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zhongliologist · 4 years ago

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Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?” you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…�� he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes. He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #s!ns

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

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vegetable stew

Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)

Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)

Word Count: 2.1k

Kenma has always been observant.

It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.

The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?

He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.

Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.

Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.

Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.

You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.

Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).

You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.

Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.

For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.

You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.

You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.

And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.

“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.

Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.

Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.

Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.

When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.

You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.

“Welcome back,” he greets softly.

“Are you...cooking something?”

Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.

“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.

The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.

“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.

The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.

Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.

“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”

You freeze.

Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—

“I appreciate it,” you start.

Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.

“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”

Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.

“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”

You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”

“I think you’re being a little extreme.”

You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you,” he insists.

“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”

“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”

The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”

Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.

The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.

Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.

A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.

Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.

You love him more than you hate yourself.

#kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

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definitelyseven · 4 years ago

Text

it was always you

summary: in a twisted turn of events, you find yourself naked in the bed of your best friend, Mark Tuan

“You okay? You were in there for awhile,” Mark said rubbing your arm up and down to comfort you. In the corner of your eyes, you could feel Sana burn you with her stare.

You gave Mark a subtle smile, “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said walking away from him. You sat down at the fancy dinner table where your name tag was. JB came over to sit next to you.

“You alright?” he asked rubbing your back. You felt disgusted by his touch - something about knowing his intentions were manipulated by Sana didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t entirely his fault, you were the one who allowed him so easily into your life, but you could never see yourself with him.

You moved away from his touched, “I’m fine. I wished everyone would stop asking me that,” you snapped at him. Maybe if you were mean to him, he’d get the hint to leave you alone. JB’s eyebrows furrowed together, worried that something had happened.

“Did Sana say something to you?”

Were you really about to expose Sana right here at the rehearsal dinner? You didn’t have the balls to do that.

“I don’t want to talk about it here.”

JB nods and quietly sits beside you. You play with your fingers, wanting this night to be over but time was passing by so slowly.

More and more people arrived at the rehearsal dinner - even Mark’s parents who flew all the way from the States. You wanted to greet them, but you wanted to preserve what little dignity you had left so you sat idle.

People took there seats as the food started coming out of the kitchen. Mark and Sana of course was sitting in the middle of table, horizontally from the rest of the guests. Sana looked as if nothing happened; as if she didn’t just confront you. You applaud her for that, wishing it was something you could do.

Sana tapped her wine glass with her fork, getting everyone’s attention, “I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. It truly is a blessing to have everyone who loves us here to share our special moment.” She lifted her wine glass up to cheers everyone; everyone followed and took a sip after raising their glasses.

Then it was Mark’s turn to make a toast. You watched him carefully as he stood up fixing his suit jacket, picking up his wine glass. He clears his throat getting everyone’s attention - all eyes were on him now.

“Thank you everyone, for coming today. Um,” he lets out a big sigh before continuing. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his wine. Sana smiles at him, giving his hand a slight rub, encouraging him to continue.

It was unlike him to be nervous in a room full of people. He was always good at speaking in front of crowds.

“Sana and I met in university. We actually met through a really good friend of mine, my best friend, Y/N,” he looks at you, giving you a small smile. “Y/N is the oldest friend I have. She’s been through everything with me - big or small. She was always like a little sister to me. Sometimes she was annoying, but most of the time she was my rock. When we found out she was attending the same university as me, she was estactic because we could finally be together again, but inside I was more excited than her because school was never the same without her.”

His eyes never left yours as he spoke. Tears began to form in your eyes as you reminisce all the happy times you and Mark shared. It was true, you’ve been through everything with Mark - big or small.

He was your rock too.

“When I told her I thought her friend, Sana, was cute, she quickly set us up on a date,” Mark peaked down at Sana who had a big smile on her face. “I guess what I’m trying to say is Y/N gave me my happiness...she is my happiness.”

The tears in your eyes formed into little pearls as you tried to contain them from falling. People around you were whispering, not understanding where the speech was going.

Sana glared at you. She looked pissed.

Mark chugs the remainder of his wine and sets his glass down, “She’s my happiness,” he repeated before turning to Sana. “Which is why I can’t marry you.”

You and Sana both turned to look at him not believing what he just said. She quickly stood up, “Babe, this is not funny,” she says through her teeth, holding onto his arm.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he said moving her hand away from him. “I was selfish. I wanted you and I wanted Y/N,” Mark confessed.

You were just as shocked as everyone else. How could he be doing this in front of everyone? Your tears quickly fell from your eyes and onto your lap.

“Mark, please...” you begged him with tears rolling down your cheeks. “Don’t do this here,” you whispered.

He looks at you, “Because of my selfish behavior, I didn’t realize how much you were hurting, Y/N.”

“What about me?” Sana said with tears in her eyes. You can’t believe this was happening. “I’m hurting too.”

“I was selfish because I loved you both. Y/N gave me my happiness, but Sana, you were my happiness. You showed me what love was and what it felt like to be in love and I will never forget that.”

Sana reaches for both his hands as she quietly sobbed, “Then what has to change? Why can’t we be like before?”

“Everything changed when I stopped seeing Y/N as a little sister. I don’t know how or when it happened, but it did. Everything she did was engraved into my head. She consumed my thoughts, my everything.”

You never knew that. He never told you.

“I tried to pretend like it wasn’t like that. I spent more time with you and less with her. She never once blamed me for being a bad friend.”

“We can try harder. We can move out of town, away from her. We can make it work,” Sana was hysterical now. You knew how much she loved him.

“I tried! I’ve been trying this whole time! Can’t you see?” you could hear his voice grow upset. “I thought if I kept telling myself to stay with you, I’d eventually believe that I really wanted to be with you.”

You kept your eyes on Mark, afraid to look anywhere else. JB reaches for your hand, comforting you. You quickly moved your hand away from his grip, still remembering what Sana had just told you.

"I was never going to say anything about my relationship with Y/N,” he looks at Sana. “If I didn’t hear what I heard today, I might have married you.”

It was like everything froze in that moment. He knew.

He knew she confronted you. He knew how she used you to get to him. He knew about the video.

“You used Y/N to get to me,” he said as his neck grew red, veins visible. “All this...meeting me, getting me to like you was all a game,” You saw his eyes glistened with tears. “How can I marry someone whose intentions were never pure?”

“No...” she begged, holding onto his arms again. “Yes, I planned it, but it was only because I liked you so much. I’ve been trying to get you to notice me for weeks, but you didn’t even bat an eye towards me.”

“So you befriended Y/N to get to me? Pretended to be a version of someone I would like just so I would like you?”

“That’s not true! I never pretended to be someone I’m not!”

“When will you stop lying to me?” Mark shouted as tears fell from the corner of his eyes.

Sana shakes her head, “I’m not lying.”

“You were never nice to Y/N because you liked her. You were only nice to her because you wanted her to set us up. You pretended to be her friend because you knew that if I ever had to chose between you and her it would always be her and you didn’t want to risk that. You needed to be on her good side so she would feel guilty about loving me.”

He figured out everything - how much you were suffering for loving him whilst being her friend and how guilty you felt for being the other woman. He knew everything.

“My love for you was always pure. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Your sick game is scary,” Mark said shaking his head in disbelief, “You’re scary. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Please Mark...” Sana sobbed. “Please don’t do this,” she begs while reaching for her stomach, slightly caressing it.

“Don’t you dare use the baby to make me stay.”

The whispers in the room grew louder. It seemed like no one knew about this baby; not even their parents. You quickly glanced at Mark’s parents who seemed upset and embarrassed about the situation. They were always nice to you; treating you like you were their own daughter. You felt guilty for this - for all of it.

“Do you want the baby to be raised in a broken home?” Sana asked giving him an ultimatum.

“The day you told me you were pregnant, I planned on telling you I was going to leave you,” Mark confessed. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

Sana kept quiet. How could she have known?

“You put cameras in my house to watch Y/N and I. You taped us...”

Sana lied to you. The camera was setup way before she confronted you. She was watching you this whole time. You felt your stomach flip, disgusted.

“I was suspicious on how things could played out so untimley. So I called your doctor to set up an appointment for an ultrasound.”

Sana’s eyes widen, “How could you do that for me?”

“Why can’t I if I’m the baby’s father?” Mark retorted. “The doctor was confused on why I was calling because you were never pregnant,” he scoffed. “You were willing to lie about being pregnant so that I would stay with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Sana manipulated and planned all this just so Mark would marry her.

“Do I need to say anymore or do you now realize I will never ever marry you?” Mark spatted.

“Why does it have to be her?”

“It was always her,” Mark said. “I was too stupid to realize that, but I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”

“God, you stupid bitch! You ruined everything,” Sana said angrily as she came for you. “You slut! You fucking slut! I will ruin you!” she screams. JB quickly stood up blocking her way to you, telling her to calm down.

You slowly stood up from your seat as all eyes watched you. You finally looked up, your eyes meeting Mark’s and then his parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Tuan, I’m so sorry about all this,” you said as tears rolled down your face. “There’s nothing I can say to make up for how disappointed and embarrassed I made you feel...I’m so sorry,” you sobbed before running out the venue.

You needed to get out of there. You couldn’t deal with the stares and the whispers.

“Y/N, wait!”

You hear someone chase after you, but that only makes you run faster. Your five inch heels weren’t helping though because JB quickly caught up to you.

“Y/N, where are you going?” he said catching his breath.

“Anywhere but here.”

“Let me come with you,” he offered. You flicked his arm off you.

“Stop,” you said sternly with tears still in your eyes. “Stop pretending.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sana told me everything. She asked you to go to the club that night to find me - to make me fall in love with you.” You can see from his expression that he didn’t intend on you finding out.

“Yes, that’s true, but-”

You cut him off, “Would you have talked to me that night at the club if Sana hadn’t told you to do so?” you asked. He kept his head low, eyes avoiding yours. “Answer me!”

“No, no I wouldn’t have.”

“You’re just as bad as she is!” you screamed at him angrily.

“I never lied to you. I told you it wasn’t a coincidence I saw you at the club,” he clarified. You’ve had enough of all the lies and the manipulation.

You slapped him across the face, “You used me and now you’re arguing over wording?! Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“All that stuff about seeing me at the vending machine was a lie?” you asked in which he responds with a nod.

“That was a story between my ex-girlfriend and I.”

“Oh god, I feel sick...” you said holding onto your stomach. Everything was going fuzzy and you don’t know how long you could hold yourself up anymore.

You hear Mark calling for you from a distance, “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again,” you spatted as you continued to run out of the venue.

You weren’t ready to speak with him yet. Everything was too much and you needed time for yourself - to clear your thoughts, to calm down. All that mattered was he wasn’t going to marry Sana and that was enough for you to leave.

You were thankful that you were able to quickly catch a taxi on your way out.

“Where to, Miss?” the taxi driver asked.

“Can you just drive?”

The taxi driver nods, driving off. You kept your head down to avoid speaking with him. “Hey, do you know those guys?” the taxi driver asks. You turned back to see JB and Mark fighting on the streets.

“N-no I don’t,” you lied. If you stopped now, you knew they would be able to convince you to stay and you didn’t want to. You wanted to forget all this - forget about meeting Sana and JB, forget about being the other woman, forget about the tapes.

“Have you decided where to go?”

“The airport.”

One Year Later

“Mom, I’m home,” you called out as you stepped inside your home with your suitcase. “Mom!” you called again. This time hearing footsteps approaching the door.

“Oh sweetheart! You’re here!” she said giving you a big hug.

“I can’t breathe,” you jokingly complained.

“I don’t care. You didn’t come home for a year and I practically had to beg you to come home for my birthday,” she said finally letting you go.

You gave her a subtle smile, “I’m sorry mom. Happy birthday,” you tell her, pulling her in for another hug.

“I understand honey,” she said stroking your head. “You’ll always be my little girl.”

You smiled at her. It felt good to finally be home with your family.

It’s been a year since you saw Mark; since the incident happened. A year of traveling around the world all by yourself. It was peaceful and it helped mend your open wounds. The time spent by yourself helped you grow as a person.

You were stronger.

“Where’s unnie?”

“She’s at the park with kids. Why don’t you go meet her?”

The park wasn’t far from your house. You and your sister grew up playing in the park and now she was taking her kids there. You remembered hanging out with Mark at the park all the time when you were kids.

“Unnie,” you called waving at her. She waves back, gesturing you to come to her.

“I found you,” you hear someone say behind you. You held your breath, stopping in your steps. You recognized that voice.

You exhaled, “How’d you know where I was?”

“Did you forget my mom’s birthday is the same as yours? We used to celebrate their birthdays together,” Mark said coming up next to you. “And your mother helped - she told me you were at the park.”

You nodded realizing how stupid your question was. Of course, your mother told him. She loved him like a son.

“You finally came home,” he said turning to look at you. You finally had the courage to face him. One year and he hasn’t changed one bit - still handsome as ever. You thought maybe after one year, your feelings would have subsided, but it hasn’t. He still made your heart race.

And you still loved him more than anything.

“You didn’t answer my calls, wouldn’t tell anyone where you were going until you were leaving that location. Do you know how hard it was to find you?”

You shook your head. Mark pulls something out from his back pocket; his passport. “I followed you to all 15 countries.”

You grabbed the passport from him and flipped through the pages. Every stamp you had on your passport, he had on his. You can’t believe he followed you all over the world.

“You idiot,” you said with tears in your eyes as you gently hit his chest. You didn’t expect him to chase you. If you had known, you wouldn’t have ran.

“I’m your idiot,” Mark said pulling you into his arms. “Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything.”

You hugged him back, breathing in his scent. You never stopped thinking about him, never stopped missing him. He wraps his arms tightly around you, giving your forehead a slight peck.

“I missed you,” he said, lips still on your forehead.

“Don’t think I didn’t miss you, Mark. I missed you more than anything. If I had known you were following me, I wouldn’t have ran.”

“I know. I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to give you all the time you needed.”

He pulls you slightly away from him to look at you. “Remember that tree over there?” he asked. You nodded turning your gaze away from him and towards the tree. “The year I was leaving for college, we promised each other something. Do you remember?”

You bit your lip, thinking about that day he left for college. The both of you were saying your goodbyes and the both of you made one promise to each other.

“If we’re still single in 10 years, we would be together,” you whispered, smiling at the silly promise you both made, 9 years ago.

“I spent the whole year thinking about the exact moment when I realized I loved you,” he cups your cheeks in his hands, pulling your face close to his. “And then I realized, it was that day we made the promise. It was always you.”

Tears fall from your eyes and he quickly wiped them away. He pulls your face close to his and connects his lips with yours. In that moment you also realized, it was always him.

a little note from jennie: anddd that’s a wrap! a sweet little ending for you and Mark - just kidding, i’m already thinking of writing an epilogue (1-2 chapters) because it isn’t your life if something doesn’t go wrong. stay tuned for more drama ;)

also, i introduced a new series in the last chapter. i wasn’t really feeling the plot so i wrote something new, something different. please check out my new series, deal.

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rezdogsyonder · 4 years ago

Text

Similar Circumstances (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki and reader have to tell Fury about what happened and deal with the consequences.

Warnings: smut like right off the bat, over simulation, choking, cockwarming, hair pulling, magic against the reader,

A/N: this is unfinished and will remain unfinished because I am leaving tumblr and will not be coming back. If someone were to want to continue this they are allowed to do so.

**********

You woke up feeling more exhausted than anything, you wanted to slip back into unconsciousness, but are unable to due to a growing headache. You groan in response to it getting worse before you feel something cold pressed to your forehead and you feel a bit at ease. A haze falling over you, that you can’t quite comprehend.

You are so glad for having days off after parties, it sorta became a customary rule made by Tony since him and most of the team were getting trashed at pretty much every gathering.

A dull throbbing between your legs becomes more apparent and you are forced into forming a coherent thought. The first thing to your mind is your actions from last night, the drinking, the library, and oh god... Loki. The reason for the throbbing between your legs, the reason you are a little sore. You’re glad for your enhanced healing, and hope the rest of this uncomfortable feeling goes away within the next few hours. But you have higher priorities right now.

Loki. Who is still nestled deeply inside of you. Who you seemed to have stirred awake with your moans and groans of waking up. Your wiggling probably didn’t help the situation either.

“Mmm... my love, how did you sleep?” He asked in a low morning voice. How can he sound so sexy at a time like this? He removed his had from your forehead and you whimper lightly at the loss of relief.

“Oh?” You yawned, “really good, and it might be thanks to a certain god.” You smiled into his neck. You’re still straddling him, and he seems to be waking up, from what you feel down there, you’re waking up too.

“It seems like you slept good. No?” You lean up to look at him, he kneeds your ass cheeks before stealing a kiss.

“Indeed.” As quick as his sentence was over, he had you flipped onto your back. He was most definitely hard again, there is no doubt about it. You’re already turned on already which doesn’t seem possible. The shift causing him to slip deeper inside of you. You cuss, and bite your lip.

“You like that love?” His hand reaching up lazily to rest upon your throat, light squeezes coming from his fingers. “You like having my cock in your sweet cunt all night? Hmm?”

He slowly pulls out till he has just the tip in your entrance, and he pushes back in excruciatingly slow. You feel every. Single. Vein.

You nod while moaning, grabbing the back of his neck to bring him down and kiss you. Tongues battling for dominance. You then rake your nails down his back. You realize that he must like this, because he arches his back and groans into your mouth when you do this.

It is the hottest thing when you are able to see when you do something that brings him pleasure. His low growl, the way he breaks the kiss to look at you with hooded eyes. All while he’s still torturing you with his cock.

“Loki... please.” You pant. “I need you to go faster. Please. I need you.” You plead with him,

“As you wish,” and his pace began to pick up, the sound of skin on skin ringing throughout the room. His hands reaches down and is fondling your breasts, mouth on your nipple expertly drawing moans out of you.

Your hands are everywhere, just trying to pull him closer than he already is. Which isn’t really possible. Pulling at his waist, before tracing up to his shoulders, then to his neck. One hand reaching up and into his hair, pulling lightly but just enough to get him to look at you. He growled at the sensation, and he sped up again.

“Oh you really do have a way of testing me, my love.” He claimed your lips with his own while his hands bring your knees to rest over his shoulders. The new angle makes him rub against that spot that has you incoherent and seeing stars. Your eyes roll back and Loki begins kissing up your neck.

“Do you belong to me?” He whispered in your ear before sucking onto your sweet spot.

“Yes.” Drawing out the word with a long moan.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me.”

“You... Loki. I belong t-to you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine.” He’s reaches down and begins rubbing circles into your clit. Pleasure building, you arch your back, that coil in your belly winding tight but you’re not quite there yet. You grind into him, chasing that peak.

“Cum for me darling.” That was it. All you needed was his voice to push you over the edge. You clench around him, and the moan you draw out of him is the most beautiful thing you can hear at that moment.

He fucked you through your orgasm keeping the steady rhythm, and you’re not coming back down. He’s still rubbing tight circles on your clit. At first it was feeling like heaven, but now it has tears running down your face. Your fingernails going down his back. Your moans enough to rival a porn star.

“Gods, you look beautiful right now,” he slowed, just enough for you to calm down. “Come on love, I know you have another in you.” He flipped you onto your belly and quickly thrusted back into you. He held your hips forcing your ass to stick in the air while your face is in the sheets. He is already beginning a punishing pace.

“Oh god, Loki... I can’t.” Your voice is slightly muffled, his fingers encircling your throat, pulling you back flush against him. He is rutting into you in a steady, unforgiving, rhythm.

“Yes, you can and you will.”

You turn your head to kiss him, a hand coming up to hold his head. This orgasm sneaking on you, you were brought to the edge immediately. You moan against his mouth and he gladly swallows it up.

He works you through this one as well, and it isn’t as intense but it is no shorter than the last one, but he doesn’t seem to be slowing down. Only speeding up. You feel him twitch within you, he’s close, chasing his own relief.

“Beg for me, beg for my seed. Tell me what you want.”

“Please Loki. Please cum in me. I need you.” Three more thrusts and a warmth fills you and you are able yo come down from the ridiculous high Loki brought you into. He peppers your neck with kisses and you hum with delight. The haze had left, but with every kiss that makes contact with your skin, it is slowly coming back.

“Well, good morning.” You smiled, and brought him in for a kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, asking for entrance once again, slowly mapping out your mouth before pulling away slightly. Dragging your bottom lip out with his teeth.

“Hmm, that it is.” Fingers lightly grazing over your skin before he firmly grabs your hips, he slowly pulls himself out of you while he sucks another mark into your shoulder. You let out a low whine, not liking the emptiness.

He steps off the bed tenderly holding your hand, “Come love, let us bathe together.” You smiled again, eager to continue in the shower.

**********

The shower was spent exactly as you would expect it would. But you are clean nonetheless. Dressed professionally to go admit the most unprofessional thing you could do. Fury is going to be livid. Or he’ll make fun of you two in front of the whole building. The former is actually preferable.

Loki, the lucky bastard, used magic to get himself ready. One snap and he was dressed and ready for what came next, and he just sat back and watched you do everything you needed. A comfortable silence over the two of you. You finish up your face with a nice red lipstick before you look down and see hickeys all over your neck.

You grab some foundation to attempt to hide the bruises all around your neck and using color corrector over each one. Why they are still not healed you have no idea. Though they will be gone by dinner, so you can’t really complain. You remember a time when you had to cover them for days.

“Why do you hide them?” He walked to wear you were sitting, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I don’t want to give Fury another thing to scold us over.” You feel his hand on your neck, the gesture becoming natural feeling, and he tilts your chin back and kisses your forehead. The kiss sends tingles down to your neck, a cool buzz resting there.

“There, now only my eyes can see them.” You look down to see that he’s right, you can see in the mirror that there is nothing marring your skin.

“Whoa, okay.” You shove your brush into your makeup bag, feeling a little sick to your stomach. Taking one last look in the mirror, you’re wearing a black blazer with a white tank underneath and black fitted slacks and black stilettos. Not there same ones as last night though, you can’t seem to find them and you can only hope that they weren’t left anywhere obvious.

You two go to leave your room but you stop him. “Wait,” you hold his arm before he is able to turn the doorknob. “What if we can’t be together? It’s not going to be the same when we leave this room.”

“We’ll find a way darling.” He interlaced his fingers with yours and he placed a kiss on your cheek. Turning the knob you two begin to make your way to the main floor of the Avengers workplace.

**********

You got to his office when he was out, it was a bit of a relief and somehow made it a little worse. His assistant telling you to just wait in his office, and you’re practically jumping out of your skin. It’s even worse since you can’t even sit next to Loki.

It seems Fury knew somehow and put the seats just barely out of reach of each other. Meanwhile Loki was trying to get you to calm down, telling you a story of him and Thor when they were younger.

“—I do not know how he is able to sense me, even when I am a snake, but it ruined the trick I had for him. Since I haven’t done anything to him in the past 80 years I shall—“ he couldn’t finish his story when the door is swung open in a harsh manner.

“Son of a bitch.” Fury chuckled. “Son of a bitch!” He crossed the room to sit at his desk. An uncomfortable tension falling over the room when he just sits there staring at the two of you.

“You could not keep it in your pants for one day? I expected more from you L/N, maybe not from him, but you?” You look down, feeling as though you’ve gotten in trouble and sent to the principles office.

“With all due respect sir,” you gulped, trying to look him in the eye, “it wasn’t planned. At all.”

“I know it wasn’t planned smart ass, but there are rules. Regulations you have to abide by. You can’t just think that you’re exempt just because you’re a fan favorite,” he gestured to you. “Or a newbie, and by the way, great first day.” Fury smiled sarcastically.

“Why thank you sir,” Loki said in a slightly monotone voice, clearly not bothered at all, “the reason Y/N and I came here today was to tell you of our flout of the afformentioned policy, we realized our mistake, and came straight to you, and I don’t know why you would make such a rule but it is quite ignorant. If you are going to get mad at anyone it should be me, I am the one who pursued Y/N. Not the other way around. I would like to also tell you that I am going to continue pursuing Miss L/N, whether you give me permission or not.”

You had no idea what to say, Loki had said it all, and a little extra. You would never have spoken to Fury that way. You look from Loki back to him and he looks pleasantly surprised.

“Okay.” Fury touched his fingers together and leans back in his chair, a faint smirk resting on his face.

“Okay?” Now you were the one who is surprised. You look to Loki who is also looking slightly confused.

“Okay,” he confirmed, “anybody who is willing to talk to me like that has some balls, and with that you have gained some of my respect. Now leave before I change my mind.”

“Thank you sir.” You quickly made your way out the door, dragging Loki behind you. You’re relieved he isn’t mad, and that there isn’t really any punishment, but the uneasy feeling in your stomach is still there.

Upon arriving in the elevator you press the floor for the tower common area, which had all the rooms on it. As soon as the doors closed Loki was wrapping his arms around you and picked you up twirling you. A small gasp and a squeak escaping your lips.

“See my dear? There was no reason to fret over Fury.” He’s smiling up at you before slowly letting you slide down to let your feet touch the ground. “So now that we have the blessing of Fury, will you be mine?”

The unease is washed away, and another haze comes over you, like a veil. “...Y-yes, of course.”

He grabs your face and brings your lips together in a loving, sweet kiss. Not as intense as his earlier kisses, but you still feel that electricity. Your hands move from his shoulders the left one coming down to rest on his chest, the right going up to the nape of his neck. The kiss slowly becoming more heated, and you want to keep pulling him closer. Too preoccupied with each other you two don’t notice when the elevator door opens and—

“Whoa, what the Fuck?” Sam averted his eyes dramatically, causing you to roll yours.

“Shut it Wilson.” You separates yourself from Loki and walk past him. Loki following close behind.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Y/N and Loki sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Sam laughs as the doors close slowly. Too slow for your taste.

“I imagine the rest of the reactions will be of the same nature.” Loki smirked behind you.

“Ugh, god I hope not, but probably.” You keep walking till you get to the kitchen area. “You want breakfast?” You turn to look at him as you put an apron on.

“Yes that would be wonderful. I haven’t had a Midgardian breakfast.”

“Oh really, what did you guys have on Asgard?” You pull out your ingredients and start the stove.

“Dagveror the day meal, and Nattveror the night meal. Both were filled with copious amounts of meat, wine, and fruits.” As he’s talking you mix everything to make the batter.

“Oh well, we have pancakes!” Holding up your bowl. You bring it to the now heated stove, expertly pouring a perfect circle, and heading to the fridge for the many fruits that are always there. Turning around you bump into Loki’s chest.

“That sounds delightful, but I can think of something else I would rather ravish.” His eyes roaming all over you. You can’t do anything now that you’re in his hold, he places his forehead on yours and you close your eyes.

Your lips finally touch, slowly moving together, his tongue moving over your bottom lip. You allow him entrance, the kiss is slow but no less passionate than your other kisses.

A throat clearing interrupts you two and you pull away to look at who it is. Tony is standing there, hands on his hips in a robe looking disheveled.

“Gross.” The single word statement said a lot more than what was heard. His disgust clearly displayed on his face and in his tone. He went around the two of you quickly to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice. Leaving the room without another word.

“Hopefully the others take the news a lot better than them.”

**********

#avengers #marvel #avengers fic #powered!reader #marvel fic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #dark!loki x reader #dark!loki #dark #dark fic

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renxamamiya · 4 years ago

Text

Bitter Madwoman

An AU I was talking about with @rui-the-galax-angel and @digifangirl97 that I finally got done!

Contains P5R spoilers. Obvs.

Also on AO3!

Warm lights illuminated the patrons that sat below them, plush seats and tables draped in beautiful white decorated the room alongside vases of flowers and potted trees, the voices of happy couples and the clattering of cutlery on plates from hungry diners echoed from the ivory-coloured walls, golden accented windows framed the Tokyo skyline as lights from buildings and cars twinkled in the murky blue-black haze of night as the full moon rose above them.

Takuto smiled as he watched Rumi laugh, a light blush appearing on his cheeks as he chuckled alongside her. They were at an outing together, their time apart too long for either of their liking as their commitments pulled them apart, moments between them before shared only by fleeting meetings in the cafeteria they shared before going about their education. They had missed each other, yet when the shackles of work and obligations loosened, they both jumped at the chance of arranging a formal date between them, and what better date then the anniversary of their relationship?

They had also met for another occasion: the meeting of Takuto's parents. Four years into their relationship it felt appropriate to meet the ones who raised Takuto, as he had met Rumi's parents a couple of months ago, a courtesy that was suggested by Rumi herself before they parted towards their own personal obligations.

“I can’t- I can’t believe that happened!” Rumi laughed, clearly entertained by the tale Takuto told of her of his childhood, giggling between breaths as Takuto rubbed his neck in sheepish embarrassment, having told her a tale of a camping trip gone awry.

"Yeah," Takuto said sheepishly, yet he peaked a look at Rumi as she continued to laugh. The way her red hair shone under the light, how captivating her eyes were as she laughed, how her cheeks puffed as she laughed; Takuto thought she looked captivating, an angel on Earth, his treasure as she reached for her glass of wine, having calmed as she took a sip from the cup. "I'm sure that the deer was more startled than me. My parents were less than impressed with me going off on my own into the woods at night, even if I was desperate for some privacy,"

"I'm sure they were just looking out for you," Rumi rationalised, fiddling the simple apple-like pendant on her neck that Takuto had given her that night, "Though to be honest, you were a lot braver than I would have been. I remember being so scared of bats that would swoop by our tent. My parents would insist they wouldn't get in but, little old me would still be deathly afraid of them,"

"Oh? I thought you would have at least fought them off," Takuto jokes, and Rumi pulls an unimpressed face.

"So, your father's a no-nonsense man who would fight a deer in order to protect his son," Rumi summarised as she curled her finger around the chain of her pendant, still amused by the camping story Takuto had told her, "What about your mom?"

"My, mom? Well," Takuto blinked, gazing in thought, "Oh, my mom! Well... she's... interesting,"

"Like all mothers,"

"Yes, like all mothers. She's, uh, trendy? Unlike my father, my mother tends to be ore in the know when it comes to trends and technology, always insisting I go into computing or the sciences when the Internet was still in its infancy, though I remember my dad needed to be thoroughly convinced that the investment of a home computer wasn't a total waste," Takuto explained.

"I bet he regrets his perspective as technology continues to improve," Rumi said almost mischievously, and Takuto chuckles.

"Maybe, I don't know. He still insists that traditional pen and paper working is more efficient, though he doesn't deny the new business opportunities the technology we have now has given him and his company. Honestly, I'm still surprised he allowed me to pursue a degree in psychology, being the traditional man, he is… maybe he’s finally catching up with the rest of the world,"

"Oh, speaking of psychology," Rumi piqued as their food arrived in front of them, the two thanking their waiter before turning back to their conversation, "How's your research paper on Cognitive Psience coming along?"

"It's coming along fine, actually," Takuto smiles as he digs into his meal, "I'm just finishing up compiling and referencing sources for the current chapter I'm working on. It's such a pain sometimes, you have no idea how many journals I have open on both my laptop and my desk,"

"A lot," Rumi guesses jokingly, and Takuto laughed.

"How 'a lot' are you talking about?"

"Oh, I was thinking about, 'a hurricane of paper and books scattered around the room as you try to find the paper you are actually holding in your hand' a lot,"

"That's... not really far from the truth," Takuto admitted embarrassingly, and Rumi laughed, "You really know me,"

"I mean, we spent a lot of study nights together,"

"That is also true,"

“But” Rumi started, now intensely looking at Takuto, her eyes glowing with earnest and appreciation, “This whole ‘Cognitive Psience’ research… A whole new field of psychology… It’s...”

“I know,” Takuto breathed, “It’s certainly interesting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “It certainly is,”

---

Siren lights danced dizzyingly against the heavy darkness that seemed to encompass the narrow neighbourhood that Takuto’s parents lived in, Rumi taking a sip from the warm cup of water she nestled in her hands as she looked worryingly at the crime scene in front of her.

Takuto had yet to emerge from the house, yet Rui could not blame him. He was the one who first stumbled upon the obscene, visceral aftermath of a robbery gone horribly, horribly wrong. Rumi gagged remembering the sour, metallic smell of blood, the amount of it. The pool; it seemed to inch towards them, Takuto just standing there, mouth agape and skin pale and eyes wide and-

She swallowed the bile that rose from the back of her throat, quickly sipping another gulp of the water that the paramedics had given her, pulling the comforting blanket they provided her tighter as she stared down at the worn concrete of the road. It wasn’t her who’d had called the police, but a neighbour who was thankfully up at the time after hearing gunshots, though she would have wished they had called sooner…

“Miss Tanaka,” a small, petite woman in a paramedic uniform approached her, “How are you doing? Is there anything you might need?”

“Takuto,” she thought as she looked at the nurse with a dull expression, feeling nothing but numb. Her chest was hollow, the rhythmic feel of her heart was intangible to her, and she begged silently that this was some sort of sick, twisted nightmare. That Takuto’s parents were still alive, that Takuto was beside her, carefree and romantic in what felt like an age ago.

“I-”

A scream that was not hers rang from the house; Rumi instinctively jolted onto her feet as the paramedic ran back in alongside police. Thrashing could be heard, the sound of broken pottery and glass and falling objects echoed out from the doorway as more personnel went in. Rumi wanted to ask someone what had happened. Had they caught one of the perpetrators? Had they found another relative miraculously alive? Yet when she saw the familiar curl of hair her stomach sunk as Takuto was dragged outside into the cold, February air, screaming and howling in frantic despair as police officers and personnel alike restrained him, flailing about in their grip as they tried their best to escort him back into one of the ambulances.

“Takuto!” Rumi screamed after her love, dropping the cup in her hands, the metal clanging onto the faded asphalt as she rushed to be at his side, the blanket that hugged her shoulders desperately clinging onto her small frame as she ran through the crowd of strangers, only to be stopped by a police officer who cut the path before her.

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down-”

“Calm down?! Calm down?!” Rumi snapped, denial swelling into anger as she shouted at the officer who impeded her path towards Takuto, “My boyfriend’s parents are dead, and he’s currency screaming like a lunatic, how can I calm down if he’s suffering?! I need to be at his side, I need-”

“Ma’am, please be assured that your partner will be safely escorted to a nearby hospital,” the officer informed her with professional calmness, his gaze sympathetic towards the redhead as Rumi stared at him with hateful eyes.

Seconds passed between them before Rumi sighed defeatedly, her shoulders relaxing as she looked sadly passed the officer to see the paramedics finally able to escort Takuto into a nearby ambulance, one of them poking their head out of the vehicle, but not before making eye contact with the solemn redhead, giving her quick, pitiful look before closing the doors fully, Rumi watching wearily as the man she loves being sped away. She stood there, long after the red and white vehicle disappeared amongst the houses, and clutched the blanket tightly around her, allowing herself to be escorted by the officer away from the scene of the crime.

---

The claustrophobic room was dark, the only light that illuminated the words were from the desk lamp that buzzed lazily over the papers in her hands as Rumi began to read the familiar handwriting of Takuto. Her fingers were coiled around the lined paper of his notes, back hunched while she sat as she intensely scanned the pages for anything that could help her in rescuing Takuto from his trance-like state. She was desperate. They had told her - assured her even - that Takuto would come out of this paralysed state, that they were putting him through treatments to coax him out of his traumatised state; but that was weeks ago, and with no improvements to his condition, Rumi desperately turned to his research.

Cognitive Psience, the study of the supernatural foundations of the human mind. Rumi remembers while in university together Takuto expressed a fascination, often sending articles and stories about the untapped potential of the human mind, the perception of the world around them, and the fascination of concepts that were totally 'fake' becoming 'real' in the public's eye. Though the human mind had been explored countless of different ways in numerous case studies and experiments, this field was something new, something uncharted, and Rumi could not deny the spark Takuto had in his eyes when discussing the possible applications this new research could help in the field of therapy.

She continued to flick through the pages, scrambling in trying to find anything that could help Takuto, almost tearing the pages as she turns them, yet when she reaches the blank, back of the notebook she felt like crying in frustration, slamming the book closed and tossing it away among other similarly bound books, and she buries her face in her hands.

Days. She spent so many days reading and rereading his notes, trying to find something that could help her, yet the despair and grief she had been running away from all this time had finally caught up to her, gripping her throat as the sobs she choked on as she allowed hot tears to roll down her pale face. The sleepless nights that continually plagued her, the aching loneliness she felt when her hand drifted into Takuto's space on the bed. Even cuddling his shirts, inhaling his soft, familiar musky scent did nothing to ease the stress and desperation she felt knowing Takuto wasn't there with her. She missed how sweet and gentle his laugh was, his warm eyes glimmered under the light of the setting sun, the comforting feeling of security and ease when his arms were wrapped around her. She missed him, and her heart ached more each time she defeatedly wandered back into Takuto's hospital room to find the man she loved now reduced to a hollow, staring statue of his former self.

Her head ached as much as her heart, Rumi groaned, reflexively reaching one of her hands to massage her eyes. The headaches she got from lack of sleep were quickly becoming commonplace as she continued her search for anything that could salvage even a fragment of her lover, a dull thud pulsated in her skull alongside her heavy eyelids and stinging eyes. She felt sick, she felt awful, but she needed to keep going, she thought to herself, she needed to-

A sharp, more forceful pain shot through her head, Rumi yelped in pain as she clutched a fistful of her red hair. She felt sick, dizzying nausea taking over, her vision swimming as she splayed her other hand onto the table, and she swore she could see something hover near her; a foreign voice echoed in her mind, calling to her.

“H-Hello?” she called out into the empty room; her voice weak as she tried to fight through the oppressive exhaustion that clawed away at her sanity. She got up from her seat, immediately regretting her decision as her legs wobbled weakly under the weight of her small body. A hand on the desk as she called out again, "Hello? Is… is anyone there?"

"...o...mu...eek...e..."

She gripped her head again, her surroundings flashed before her eyes. That voice. There was something. Something behind her. Something with her. Yet when she turned again there was nothing but scattered papers and silence.

---

“Hello Takuto, how are you feeling today?”

Light shone through the wide windows of the hospital room, the slight sterile smell permeated throughout, only tempered with the fresh scent of flowers - daisies and hydrangeas - that sat next to Takuto on his bedside table. Rumi sat next to him in a small, sturdy wooden chair, a cheery smile on her face, yet her eyes betrayed her hidden anxiety as they darted around Takuto’s body for any sign of recovery.

It has been more than three months ever since the robbery-turned-murder of his parents. Each day Rumi never once failed to visit Takuto in his room. Each time she arrived she would sit on the same chair that had never left its spot beside the bed, and each time she would talk to Takuto as he stirred from his sleep into the same, empty stare she had to grow used to. She would talk about mundane topics, updates on his parent’s murder case, her life outside the hospital walls, and all Takuto would do, day in and day out was stare blankly while she talked.

She hated it. Hated out absent his eyes were. Hated his still, vacant expression as he stared into oblivion as if he himself was staring at the inner workings of the universe. He was alive, as much as his beating heart would correct anyone, but he wasn’t the man she loved; he wasn’t Takuto, just a living mockery of him as she rested her pale hand on his lap, trying to seek any comfort she could get out from this hideous state, yet knowing she was get nothing from him.

“I’m doing okay,” Rumi smiled desperately as she continued her one-sided conversation, a skill she mastered while watching over Takuto, “And Shibusawa is doing well. He’s up to… well… Shibusawa things, as usual,”

No response.

“And I was looking through some of your research notes as well,” Rumi said, unconsciously reaching for the bags under her eyes that were masked with concealer, “you were always talking about that ‘Cognitive Psience’ stuff to me, and while I still don’t quite understand it, everything you’ve gathered so far in the few years has been such an eye-opener, and possibly has recontextualised the entire science as a whole! You’ve really outdone yourself, Takuto,”

No response.

“They um… They also caught the culprits who took away your family. They’re in police custody right now,”

No response.

“I-”

“Rumi… f… amil...y,”

Rumi scrambled closer towards Takuto. Was she hallucinating?

“Takuto?”

She swore he spoke.

“F...ami-”

Takuto suddenly lurched forward from his sitting position, running his fingers through his brown hair and clutching tufts of it tightly as he squeezed his eyes tightly, as if in extreme pain.

“No!” he screamed before Rumi could act, thrashing his head side to side as he wailed. Rumi rushed next to him, almost getting hit as he struggled in the bed, Takuto paying no heed to his surroundings. It was almost as if he were back at the scene of the crime all those months ago, having seen the butchered corpses of his parents… Rumi swallowed sickly as she pushed the intercom, crying out for a nurse to help her subdue the flailing Takuto, “I can’t… this can’t be happening!”

“Takuto, Takuto it’s okay, it’s going to be okay!” Rumi pleaded to Takuto, trying to calm him down as she put a hand on his back, the best she could currently do as she desperately waited for a nurse to assist her in pacifying her traumatised lover.

“No! Mother, father! Why?! Why?” he wailed, clearly a world away from her, trapped in a never-ending nightmare where all that encompassed it was the dishevelled corpses of his parents and the sour, metallic smell of blood. Rumi could not help but pity him; it was as though he was a scared child, and the touches of comfort that she gave to him was all she could do as Takuto continued to beg for the Gods to return his family to him once more.

“...ou...want...”

The familiar migraine returned, Rumi clutching her hair in pain as the familiar sensation ripped once more. The headaches were becoming more frequent, the woman explaining them away as the result of the added stress of worrying about Takuto and her own responsibilities, having just finished getting her psychiatric degree after a gargantuan round of exams and sleepless nights. However, the intensity she felt at that moment was great; as if reality around her warped for a heartbeat. She uttered a curse under her breath. After calming Takuto down, she really needed to pick up some painkillers, she noted to herself.

The nurse came soon after and sedated Takuto, Rumi felt sickly as his thrashes became less and less energetic before he was medically lulled into sleep once again. The nurse gave a shy nod to Rumi before retreating out of the room as soon as he laid still on the bed, and Rumi was left on her own with Takuto’s sleeping form once again.

“Takuto,” she murmured once silence fell onto the room once again, approaching Takuto’s sleeping form to stroke his fluffy hair from his face. It was getting harder and harder to bear seeing him like this, a tear rolling down her face as she continued to tenderly curl the locks of his hair gently between her fingers. She wanted to free him, free him from the vicious cycle that was brought on by the memories of his trauma. Could he even recover from this? She wasn’t so sure, cases like this, where the patient was too far gone… Rumi doubts Takuto could be saved, it would take a miracle to-

“...seek...me...”

Another headache, Rumi squeezed her eyes in pain as it came and went, the same intensity as before; yet the voice. It was… calling to her? Rumi laughs at herself out of comfort more than humour. Great, she too is going mad.

“Rumi?”

Rui reacts to Takuto’s voice, his eyes still closed in an uneasy sleep.

“I’m..hurt...make...it stop...I want to…forget...”

“Forget?” she mumbles sadly, “Takuto, I don’t… I don’t know how to make you forget… But we’ll think of something, okay? We’ll-”

She remembers something from Takuto’s notes.

“By altering a subject’s cognition- by changing their heart-” Rumi recalled out loud, “any related trauma is eliminated.”

“You must seek me!”

“So, if I’m able to… if I’m able to change Takuto’s heart, I should be able to remove his trauma, and anyone else’s! I can save them!” Rumi exclaims triumphantly, absorbed in her resolve to save Takuto, too concerned with saving the man in front of her to even acknowledge the strange voice that now echoed freely in her head.

“Seek me… I am that who manifests thought itself. I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may together change the world… Now, call me forth!”

“I will,” Rumi cried desperately, “I will! Please, whoever you are, lend me your strength! Help me save the man I love! Let him live his life once again!”

Nothing happened, at first; and suddenly it was as if reality shook around her, warping incomprehensibly, until snapping back into the present. Rumi blinked, taken aback by the sudden sensation. What… what had happened? Did it, what it was, work?

Takuto wakes from his sleep.

“Takuto, Takuto!” Rumi gasps in surprise, almost choking her words as the familiar, kind glint she first fell in love with sparked in his eyes once more. It was too long for her to again feel joy once more, the last months a horrible, weighted slog of existence as the world dashed by her, Rumi once again able to allow herself some semblance as Takuto blinked curiously around his surroundings. It was a miracle. Azathoth had brought her Takuto back from his perpetual state of shock.

Yet it was too soon that she realised that her wish had come at a price, as Takuto looked upon her face with the same unfamiliar curiosity that he had when he’d woken up. He blinked at her and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hello… Miss?” he asked, too cautiously for her liking, yet she rationalised to herself that he was too dazed and disoriented for him to recognise her properly, his mind playing catch up from weeks of absence.

“Takuto, it’s me,” Rumi said, her tone a plea for him to remember their shared love, gesturing to herself by pressing her hand onto her chest, “It’s me, it’s Rumi,”

“Rumi...” Takuto almost slurred her name out loud, rolling each syllable on his tongue, as if the name itself was foreign to him. His expression narrowed to one of concentration as his eyes drifted down onto his lap. Rumi inched forward in her seat, patiently waiting for him to remember her, yet her eager smile turned into a disappointed frown when he shook his head, “I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,”

Rumi could physically feel her heart shatter.

“I’ve just had surgery,” he said, absentmindedly ignoring the slow disbelief and horror that crept onto Rumi’s pale face, “Cycling accident. I’m a clutz, so I get hurt pretty often, and unfortunately, I managed to somehow crash into a fence and broke a couple of bones. I lost my parents when I was quite young, and I lived with my grandparents before coming into the city for a University degree in Psychology. I’m actually finished with my recovery, so I’m happy that I’m finally going home today,”

Rumi looked at him with shock, her face paled, her hands shook as she balled them into fists.

“Takuto,” Rumi said, “Takuto… you… you’ve… I...”

Did… did that voice… do this? Rumi wasn’t sure, even if Takuto was in front of her, looking at her with the brown eyes she loves so, so much. Yet, there was no mistaking it, while Takuto did come out of his stupor, he… he forgot her. It was as if his entire history was rewritten. She…it didn’t matter… What mattered to her then was that Takuto was okay.

Takuto looked at her with concern, his eyes churning her stomach.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“I’m,” she swallowed her nervousness and disbelief, putting on a facade of happiness as she continued to address him, “I’m sorry, I must have had the wrong Takuto, I must have not looked where I was going,” she laughed as she stood up from his chair, giving him a nervous laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, “I’m such a clutz as well haha, always having my head in the clouds!”

“Oh,” Takuto smiled, that innocent smile that tugged the strings. He was smiling but, what happened if he relapsed? She needed to go, but she didn’t want to look away, “Is he a friend?”

“Boy...friend,” Rumi answered forcefully as she choked back a sob, “He’s sick as well, and...”

“You should go to him,” Takuto said as he flashed a smile, and Rumi wanted to cry right there, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,”

Rumi could only nod, her mouth left agape as she turned on her heel and opened the door behind her.

“One more thing,” Takuto said, and Rumi turned to face him, yet she was reluctant to meet his eyes, “I know this is forward of me to ask but, may we meet again? I’ve enjoyed our meeting and would love to get a coffee with you; platonically, of course,”

“I… I don’t think so,” Rumi almost heaves the words out of her throat, her fingers tapping on the ajar door, “I’m very busy right now, sorry. He died not long ago… I’m sorry,”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Takuto apologises, “But, it was nice to meet you. Please take care of yourself, and send my regards to his family,” he smiled melancholy at her, and she weakly smiled in turn, vomit rising from her throat. Spilling into the hallway she lethargically wandered towards the exit of the hospital, barely making eye contact with the various nurses and doctor she passed. The whole world around her felt it like it turned mute, colours that were once vibrant now dull.

She did not recall when she finally made it back to her apartment she once shared with Takuto, throwing herself onto her couch. She had no idea how much time passed, she lied there, staring at the blank ceiling above. It was sunset when she finally allowed herself to cry.

---

Rumi sat across the downtrodden girl, her hands resting on the clipboard that was placed on her lap as she waited for Sumire Yoshizawa to speak. Sunlight shone through the windows beside them, illuminating the bowl of sweets that sat on the round table, Rumi seeing Sumire’s gaze shifting between them and her feet as her face hid behind the bangs of her long, red hair.

Her sister had died in front of her, Rumi was informed by her grieving father as he ushered her into the room. An accident with a speeding car at the crossroads of Shibuya, where her sister had pushed her away from getting hit. It had caused Sumire to retreat into her shell, eyes empty, barely eating and drinking, and her father was desperate not to lose another child.

Rumi herself was aware as to why her father sought her out specifically to treat his near-catatonic daughter. After Takuto’s recovery - his change of heart - Rumi went on to use her powers to help people, to ease their trauma, practising her ability to shift the attitudes and personalities with the help of her newfound friend. Her reputation grew with each heart she changed, a rate of success never seen before for a fresh hire, but Rumi did not care.

Rumi shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs as Sumire fixated on the table in front of her. Silence returned between them. Neither of them said a word.

“Hello, Sumire Yoshizawa,” Rumi started, breaking the tension between the both of them, yet the girl did not appear to shift her gaze, “It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Dr Tanaka, and I’ll be your counsellor,”

Sumire merely nodded in acknowledgement.

“Thank you for coming to see me today,” Rumi continued, trying to stir conversation out from the troubled teen before her, “I really appreciate it,”

“Thank you… for seeing me… in the first place,” Sumire spoke just above a whisper, her voice hesitant, still avoiding eye contact with Rumi, “Though I don’t quite know what to talk about…To be honestly, I only came here because my parents wanted me to be here...”

“It’s okay,” Rumi assured her, voice comforting as she settled her clipboard onto the table, “It’s hard to talk about what’s troubling you, I certainly don't expect for you to trust me with something so personal,”

Sumire did not respond.

“How about we just, chat?” Rumi offered, “Until your time’s up, of course,”

“...Chat?” Sumire mumbles.

“Yeah, about anything you’d like. It can be about anything, school, boys, any TV shows that are currently on… Oh! And I’ve got some snacks for us to share if you like! Plenty of snacks, so feel free to help yourself with them,”

Sumire stares at the bowl of sweet in front of her.

“Do you like to cook?” Rumi piqued up, “I do, a lot. It usually takes my mind off things after a long day of work. The other day I saw a great deal on some apples, and they looked amazing too! So, I bought some to make an apple dish, just to mix it up you know?”

Sumire did not respond.

“But, the result was… not that good,” Rumi laughs awkwardly, continuing her tale, yet her eye flickered observantly towards Sumire, “Tried some other sweet and savoury combinations in the form of some European dishes, but those didn’t turn out so great as well...”

“Apples do make for good ingredients,” Sumire replied, and Rumi snapped to attention as the girl in front of her talked, “If you grate them, you can make a surprisingly versatile sauce. I use the fruit in plenty of my dishes when I can. It’s pretty nutritious and good for digestion.”

“You cook as well, Yoshizawa-san?” Rumi inquired, relieved that she was able to get the girl to talk, “And I’m impressed that you care a lot about nutrition at your age. Most teenagers seem to be eating a lot of junk food and pre-processed meals everywhere I look… not that I blame them, of course,”

“It’s fine,” Sumire sighed, “I’m a gymnast. My coach has told me more than once to be conscious of everything I eat,”

“How amazing,” Rumi praised her, yet Sumire’s expression did not change, “You must be really dedicated with practice. How is it going for you lately?”

Sumire winced at the mention of her practise.

“It… has been rough lately,” Sumire admits, something Rumi couldn’t blame her for. Grief was something hard and heavy; to see a loved one perish right before your eyes. Rumi knew how it felt, “It’s nothing I can’t handle, but...”

Sumire takes a minute for herself.

“It’s not going well,” she said, her voice forceful as if coughing out her admittance, “I… I don’t even know what I want to do anymore,”

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that, Sumire,” Rumi apologises to Sumire, her eyebrows knitted together with a sympathetic expression, “Do you still enjoy gymnastics?”

“I’m… I’m not even sure of that. My older sister… Kasumi… and I made a promise… We’d both compete and win the biggest gymnastics awards in the world… But...”

She again looked away from Rumi.

“She… passed away...” she swallowed, “She… protected me from a car...”

The incident. Rumi was aware, yet it was utterly heart-breaking to see the tears welling from Sumire’s eyes, her wide eyes. Her terrible, wide eyes as she leaned forward, now hiding her face from Rumi.

“I can’t, I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t go on like this,” Sumire started to sob. The way her voice wailed, the tears down her framed eyes… Rumi gripped the frills of her lab coat... It was like Takuto all over again, “If Kasumi were here instead, I know she’d make her dream come true, only Kasumi could have done it, no matter how long I try to compete, it’s not going to change anything, it’s not going to...”

Sumire took a deep breath, hastily wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, unconsciously tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Please don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong, Sumire,” Rumi assured her, wanting to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Sometimes we just need to vent about our feelings, it’s perfectly natural to want to relieve bottled emotions; especially when dealing with a loss of a lost one,”

“Yeah,” Sumire mumbled, “It’s just… I can’t really deal with anything anymore. I can’t just go on, living like this. I’ve been feeling like this for a long time; everything I do, even when Kasumi was still...”

She chokes another sob.

“If Kasumi were here instead, I know she’d make her dream come true… Only Kasumi could achieve it. No matter how long I try to compete, it’s not going to change anything,”

Sumire looks at Rumi.

“I’m sorry,” she apologises again.

“It’s alright,” Rumi smiles comfortingly at her, “I don’t judge, and I’m glad that you’re able to at least confide with me what’s troubling you,”

Sumire looks down again.

“It’s just...” she starts, her gaze wandering, her voice trailing, “I…. I sometimes can’t help but think that… things would’ve been better if I was my sister… if I was Kasumi Yoshizawa… After all, just wishing to make her dream come true does nothing for her in real life... considering she’s...”

“You want to make her sister’s dream come true, huh?” Rumi muttered to herself in thought. Maybe…

She turned to smile at Sumire.

“I can see where you’re coming from, Yoshizawa,” Rumi said as she leaned back in her chair, “And really? Wanting to become someone else isn’t an entirely bad thing,”

“You… you think so?” Sumire asked with a confused expression.

“Of course! Everyone has the ability to change themselves - the only limit is your imagination! By imitating the actions of another person - asking yourself ‘what would this person do’ in a given situation - helps you better emulate them! Thought exercises that utilise this can lead to people eventually becoming like the target person themselves,”

Rumi leans closer to Sumire.

“Can you still imagine what your sister was like?”

“Yes...” Sumire said.

“Well, if your sister were in your shoes, what do you think she’d do?”

“Well, she wouldn’t cry,” Sumire started as she shook her head, “and if she had to, she’d just practice more instead...”

Sumire’s voice drifted into silence.

“Dr Tanaka...” her voice wavered, “I want… I want to become Kasumi,”

“I know, Sumire. And I’m sure you can, too! You just have to believe in yourself,”

Rumi could feel Azathoth in her heart. Her… friend… stirred. Sumire closed her eyes, reality flashed before her eyes, the familiar twisting and warping feeling around her subsided as fast as it came.

Kasumi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open. The light that flickered in them complimented her smile. She seemed happier; much happier.

“Are you feeling any better?” Rumi asks the girl, yet she felt that she knew the answer as Kasumi nodded happily.

“Yes!” Kasumi exclaimed, “I feel like a weight’s been lifted off of me!”

Rumi smiled.

“You’re amazing, Doctor!”

“I’m happy to help,” Rumi smiled, watching as Kasumi reached for her bag, “It seemed like my counselling approach did some good,”

Kasumi zipped opened her bag, reaching for something inside of it. She took out a ribbon and scooped some of her red hair, before tying it into a ponytail. She took off her glasses. And smiled at Rumi.

“Thank you again, Dr Tanaka. I’m not sure how to put it, but… I feel like I’ve been reborn all over again,”

“I’m glad to hear it, Yoshizawa!” Rumi said, “Now if you need anything else, or something else comes up, please don’t hesitate to come into my office, okay? We can just even have a chat, like today! And please feel free to have some snacks,”

“Thank you, Dr Tanaka. I would like to actually pick up from where we left off, talking about-”

Kasumi’s eyes suddenly widened in shock.

“Is something the matter?” Rumi inquired worryingly.

“It’s just that… now that I think about it… I’m not any good at cooking!” Kasumi laughed, “I don’t know why I said those things earlier. My younger sister’s the one who was really great at it,”

Rumi’s smile grew wider, admiring the work she’d done in front of her.

---

Rumi settled into the small sofa that sat in front of a small coffee table, pulling her lab coat inwards, the pendant that Takuto had given her clung proudly around her neck. She had to get used to the sharp smell of disinfectant that permeated throughout the relatively small room, her eyes scanning the various labels of bottles that were locked in the cabinet beside her. She had tried to make the room more comforting; her favourite sweets, one of the only things she had left of Takuto, sat on top of the table before her. The stark, buzzing lights above reflected against the multicoloured plastic, Rumi unconsciously reaching for them, before she motioned a delicate hand to the piping hot tea in front of her instead.

Shujin Academy. The school had purposely reached out for her as she left her old position, wanting to broaden her horizons and helped more people, especially the current youth of today. Her meeting with Sumire - now Kasumi - had opened her eyes on the mental health needs of the teenagers that inhabited the city; how oppressive the curriculum had become, and how many teenagers were drowning in their own depression and grief, most reaching the point of no return until they never realised it until they were suddenly teetering at the edge of a building.

Shiho Suzui, the catalyst of her prompt interview and hiring, the girl who had sent the school’s administration scrambling to find a counsellor, resulting in her immediate interview and hiring.

It was evident that the school only hired her to save their reputation, having heard about the abuse the volleyball team had to endure under the hands of an ex-Olympian Volleyball Coach, Suguru Kamoshida. Though she wasn’t aware of it back then, only hearing whispers about how a poor girl threw herself off the school roof intending to die, the revelation made her gag. How could abuses so severe be brushed under the rug?

The truth wasn’t the only thing that spurred her to take the job, rumours had been circulating about a vigilante group that slinked around the school that travelled among students as she wandered the halls towards her new office, a group only known as the Phantom Thieves. They had targeted Kamoshida if the rumours were to be believed; the ones who stole something from him… a ‘treasure’... one to enact a ‘change of heart’. She almost wished she was there to see the aftermath, as students regularly commented on how the man was reduced to a wailing, sobbing mess in front of the school, begging for forgiveness, wanting to end his life there and then. It was a sort of poetic justice when one of his victims, Ann Takamaki, called him out for being the coward he was.

But she didn’t trust them. Yes, they had enacted justice for those who needed it, but who’s to say that it was merely a facade to placate the public? To trick them into letting their guard down, before enacting crimes? Rumi did not trust this facade of vigilante justice, the word ‘thief’ alone soured her perspective towards them. Thieves, that work to bring the law unto the lawless? An oxymoron, their true intentions as murky as their identities.

Though she had her suspicions. On coming out from her interview, clambering down the steps she saw a sight that left her startled; three teenagers, students from the school appearing out of thin air, all huddled together around a phone in an alleyway. She managed to walk away before they saw her, the woman dazed and confused, and ever since witnessing such an event she pondered to herself: did those kids have the same powers she did?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter; what mattered to her the most was her need to save them from misery, to save them from pain and cruelty, and to ensure that crime on a wider scale was eradicated from the World. No one should suffer the same fate she did, the same grief Takuto and Sumire had to endure. She had Azathoth, had the power to change reality, and she had few scraps of Takuto’s notes hidden away, to be developed upon, to be used to achieve her own goal.

Rumi looked down at her clipboard. There were students she was told by the Principle himself to look out for, mostly ones that suffered under the hands of Kamoshida. There were three kids that stood out to her; they were the same ones that appeared spontaneously into existence that day in the alleyway in front of the school. The first one: an ex-track member named Ryuji Sakamoto; his dyed blond hair evident in the semi faded picture she had of him. The second one: Ann Takamaki; a victim of Kamoshida’s abuse and a friend of Shiho Suzui, the girl who jumped off the roof (and Rumi felt sympathetic towards her). And the third one: a transfer student currently on probation, Ren Amamiya; the delinquent.

Her gaze lingered at Amamiya’s portrait. His hair curled wildly upon his head, grey eyes staring at her behind thick-framed glasses. A delinquent… she would have to keep a close eye on him, she can’t allow him to spiral into a life of crime, she can’t allow him to become a criminal, like those thieves, those thieves turned murderers, who killed Takuto’s parents, who killed her Takuto…

Hearing the room’s door open snapped Rumi back into attention. She looked up to see sheepish grey eyes stare back at her. It was as if looking at Amamiya’s portrait had summoned him, the boy blinked sheepishly behind the door, his head poking out, wild hair sticking out in all directions.

“Excuse me,” he inquired politely, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Rumi exclaimed, gesturing towards the seat in front of him, “Come on in!”

Her plan was in motion. Amamiya sat in front of her, ready to talk, Azathoth stirred in her head, power sparked at the end of her fingertips. Her new project, Amamiya, was the final push she would need before she had the confidence to spread her power towards all of reality. To fix the heart of a delinquent child, meant that she could save him. She could save all the troubled youths of the world and beyond.

Whether they knew it or not, she was going to save them.

She was going to save them all.

#persona #persona 5 #rumi #takuto maruki #dan's log #txt #mywriting #myfanfic

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skullrock · 5 years ago

Text

the partners, chapter 5 - Steve x Reader

chapter 5 - I know it’s over

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve head to Bartini to investigate; you pursue your feelings for Steve with devastating results.

warnings: swearing, angst!!!!!!!!!, drinking, mentions of getting sick

word count: 4k (oof!)

a/n: here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. pirate door scene from this��and make sure you buckle up for this chapter fellas

=====

Saturday comes around, and you prep for the night. You throw on your disguise, which is just a dress that you typically would not wear and a wig from Halloween a few years ago. You attempt to do some makeup that you wouldn’t typically do as well – Steve said it had to be good. Steve also recommended carrying a weapon, just in case – you grab a switchblade and tuck it into a garter that your mother had given you years ago. You find yourself obsessing over how you look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re worried of being caught or worried that you won’t look good enough for Steve.

Your palms get sweatier the closer you get to his house, and your heart rate picks up. You mentally kick yourself over this, but it’s not like it helps.

You pull up to his house around 10 pm, honking the horn once to signal your arrival. Steve steps out a few seconds later. You can’t see much of him in the dark, but you can make out that he’s carrying something pretty large in his hand. Your brows furrow and you watch as he opens the back door, the back seat illuminated by the light in your car. He throws in a wooden bat, riddled with nails, and shuts the door.

Shocked is an understatement.

“Hey!” he says, climbing into the car.

You can’t talk for a moment. “Steve, what-“

“You look so great,” he says, and he means it. He thinks you look downright breathtaking, not that he would admit that to himself or anyone else.

“No,” you say harshly, turning the lights in the car on. “What the hell is that?” You point to the backseat.

He looks at you innocently. “A bat.”

“Steve, that’s not a bat. That’s a fucking – that’s a war weapon. That’s shit they used to use in medieval times to kill- to kill monsters and shit.”

He is impressed by your accidental accuracy.

“We might need it,” he retorts.

You shake your head in disbelief and laugh slightly. “For what?”

“Just trust me, alright?”

“Who even gave that to you?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Byers?!”

“Yes.”

You stare at him, slack jawed. “What?!”

“Look,” he sighs. “I need you to drop this and just trust me, okay?”

“Okay, but you can’t take that into the bar.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I just – I need it, alright?”

You don’t understand, but he’s your best friend and you care about him, so you relent. It’s now that you notice him, looking sleek in his black duster, sunglasses hanging off his shirt. His hair is slicked back. He looks like a movie star, and it catches you off guard.

“What’s this?” you muse finally, tugging on his jacket.

“It’s my risky business costume from ’84,” he smiles. “Do you like it?”

“No,” you respond, to his surprise. “You don’t look different enough.”

Steve scoffs. “What do you mean? My hair is slicked back, dude.”

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, sifting through it. He watches you nervously, making sure to take his eyes away from looking at your exposed thighs, because it’s weird to look at your friend like that. He looks away sharply and clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. You eventually produce a stick of black eyeliner and red chapstick.

“No,” he says. “No way!”

“You have to!” you plea.

“You are not putting makeup on me,” he huffs. “End of discussion.”

“Steve, stop being so fragile,” you say, exasperated. “Men in makeup look hot.”

He stills. “Do you think?”

“I don’t think, I know,” you say, twirling the eyeliner in your hand. “Now lean over here and close your eyes.”

Steve does as you request, closing his eyes and leaning over to rest his arms on the center console. He laughs awkwardly as you begin. The little lighting in the car isn’t much, but it doesn’t have to be perfect. He has sunglasses, anyway. You quickly put it on, smudging it, explain to him that yes, you need to smudge it, and no, this isn’t a joke.

“Open,” you say, and he opens his eyes.

You’re both just inches apart, and your eyes lock. Your stomach flips and palms sweat. You want to look away, but you couldn’t – you were completely enamored, impressed with his warm brown irises, the speckles of gold within them, how happy and soft he looks as he meets your gaze.

“Um,” you say finally, dropping your eyes down to the chapstick. “You’ll need this, too – it’ll tint your lips.”

“I’m going to look like a vampire,” he mumbles, amused, and you smile gently. You uncap the chapstick, but instead of giving it to him to do himself, you lean over and run it across his lips. His heart skips, but he figures it’s just from surprise. No one has ever applied chapstick on him before – well, not this way. You run it along his lips slowly, making sure to get every crevice. You now notice just how soft his lips look – like pillows, red and lush, as soft as his eyes. Your eyes linger a little too long, and you don’t notice that you slowed down, stopping your swipe half way.

“Uh, Y/N?” he says through the chapstick.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper. “Sorry – I was just – uh – I was thinking about something else.”

He quirks a brow, but doesn’t question it.

Steve’s nervous – no, Steve’s scared shitless. He had the shakes the entire day, considering not going through with the plan. He was horrified at the aspect of getting caught again, but more importantly, he was worried about you getting hurt. He would never be able to live with the guilt of getting you into something dangerous. The very thought of you getting the same treatment he did last year makes his stomach turn, makes him feel faint, makes him breathless. He was momentarily distracted from the fear when he saw you, but it’s back full force as you drive to the other side of town.

You notice his stiffness and the tension in the air. “Steve?”

“I’m scared,” he says, teeth chattering.

Your brows pull together in worry. “Do you want me to pull over?”

“No,” he says quickly. “No – I’ll be alright.”

You know better than to ask for an elaboration. You glance over at him and see his hands shaking, so you grab one and squeeze it. He squeezes back, and it’s a nice gesture – the bond of trust that you both have, solid and strong.

You pull into the parking lot at the bar and shut the car off. You turn to face him fully. He really looks like a vampire with his face drained of all color, terrified, but he swallows the apprehension and smiles. You smile back gently.

“ID?” you ask. He pulls his out and shows it to you – your hook-up was able to be quick and got it to you within a few days. Steve’s fake name was “Ford Skywalker” – you tried to explain that it was a silly name that was way too obvious, but he insisted.

“Weapon?” Your eyes glance to the bat, but he pats his hip and nods.

“Warning phrase?”

“Ghostbusters is on.”

You nod and sigh heavily. “Let’s do this.”

Steve is shitfaced within an hour.

You had suggested he try to drink something to get his nerves calmed, but he went a bit overboard. While you socialized and tried to find any clues that something was happening, Steve slammed back beer after beer. He felt lighter, better, happier with each sip, and by the time he was totally slammed, he was nearly in bliss.

Steve walks over to where you’re leaning against a tall table, where you’re nursing your first beer and observing the crowd. The bar was admittedly a bit crazier than you expected, more of a club than anything. Lots of people were dancing, the music was loud; if it weren’t for the potential tie to a murder, you’d think it was a great place.

Steve’s eyes are again drawn to your exposed legs, but also to your exposed neck. He thinks to himself how beautiful you look, how beautiful you always look, how it seems like you don’t even have to put effort into it.

“Hey,” he says as he leans in beside you. You smell him and know he’s gone too far. You open your mouth to scold him, but he cuts you off.

“You see that door over there?” he says, pointing towards a darkened corner. “The one that says ‘pirate’?”

You follow his gaze, eyes hardening when you see the door he is talking about.

“You think a pirate lives in there?”

You turn to look at him, pupils flaring. “I see a door marked private.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times, embarrassed in his drunken state. “Uh… that’s – yeah, I said that?”

“No –“

“What did you think I said?” he slurs.

“Steve, you definitely said –“

“Are we gonna go find out if a pirate lives in there or what?”

You sigh out your entire soul and pinch the bridge of your nose. He is the one who suggested going to this bar, and now you’re carrying nearly all the weight of this investigation while he gets hammered. It’s irritating, to say the least, and all the weird things he has done since this started creep into your memory. But he did point out the door, and you hadn’t seen it before, so at least he was good for something tonight.

“Stay here while I go check it out,” you say. “I mean it – stay put.”

He salutes, then adds, “I’ll miss you.”

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach and head over to the door.

Upon closer inspection, it reads “VIP – PRIVATE LOUNGE.” Your brows furrow and you look around before pressing your ear to the door. Of course it’s loud all around you, and you can hardly hear – but you definitely hear some voices behind the door, and the language does not sound like anything you knew. You look around again and drop to the floor, peaking under it. You can see shoes, which is a start, but nothing very helpful. You sigh and dust yourself off, heading back to where you left Steve.

Except he wasn’t there.

You groan and search the crowd. He’s not very hard to find, dancing erratically in the middle of the floor, arms flailing about. You should have known better – of course he was going to dance. He dances all the time when he’s sober; it must increase tenfold when he’s drunk. You push past people to reach him, and he looks happier than you’ve ever seen him. It breaks your heart a bit. You wish he was this happy all the time, this carefree. His eyes reach yours and he grabs you quickly, pulling you to him. You open your mouth to protest, but the song changes.

It’s Come on Eileen. It’s Steve’s favorite.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he shouts, fist punching the air, and he grabs you again, spinning you around before dancing.

Seeing Steve dance sober was a spectacle enough. Seeing Steve dance drunk was almost too much to handle.

His body has no limits. His arms fly out, he spins, he kicks. His head bangs so hard that it must hurt, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have a care in the world – all he notices is the beat, the music. Steve moves all around, crazily, happily, and you can’t help but laugh at the sheer delight he exhibits.

You think he looks beautiful. You think maybe you love him.

He grabs you and spins you again. “Dance with me!”

You decide that you will, letting some stress off of you, too. He flings his arms around your waist as the song slows. You wrap yours around his neck and stare up at him, once again captured by his eyes. He’s caught by yours, too, and he thinks he feels even dizzier while he looks at you, hardly even moving, just taking you in.

As the pace picks up, Steve’s hands slide up, grabbing yours. He clutches them tightly and smirks before spinning you. It garners attention, and you beg him to stop, but he keeps spinning you until the song takes off again. He spins on his own and continues to dance while you laugh and catch your breath. You wish you were still mad at him, but seeing him like this makes you remember why he was so special to you.

The song fades and he turns to look at you. He’s smiling widely, but then his face falls.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You usher him outside quickly and pat his back as he leans over a set of bushes. He pulls back and wipes his mouth, making your face scrunch. He smiles cheekily. “You’re cute when you’re grossed out.”

“Come on, Ford,” you say, leading him to your car. You get the door for him and he bows, laughing nearly hysterically, before climbing in.

“If you puke in my car, you’re dead,” you warn, and he nods with a thumbs up.

As you drive, his hands reach over to you and rest on your knee. Your heart leaps to your throat, but you try to seem unfazed. “Getting handsy, buddy?”

“Legs,” he responds.

You pause. “Yes.”

“They’re nice,” he says, rubbing circles into your knee. You roll your eyes as you scream internally.

You pull into his house, bat forgotten in the back seat, and you help him inside. He steps inside and shouts, “Daddy’s home!” before reaching into the pockets of his duster and pulling out two cans of pepper spray.

Your eyes follow the cans as they drop to the floor, head racing – didn’t he just point to his hip earlier? He continues to undress, for no apparent reason.

“Hey, hey,” you say, lunging for him before he takes his shirt off. “You’ve got company, bud.”

“Oops!”

Steve reaches down into his pockets and pulls out a swiss army knife and a tactical pen. He reaches into his waistband and produces another knife, similar to the one you have. You’re thoroughly shocked and confused. “What the hell is this all about?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid. “I have to have weapons, Y/N.”

“Where did you even get these? Did Jonathan get you them, too?”

“Nah,” he slurs. “Got ‘em myself after last year.”

Your heart slams in your chest and you want an explanation, but you know you won’t get one. What the hell happened to him last year that makes him carry around this kind of shit? And that bat?!

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. He steps towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. Your cheeks flush but you have no complaints. His hand reaches down and he runs it lightly up your leg. “I know where you keep yours!”

“Steve!”

“What?” he asks, genuine confusion written on his features. You step out of his grasp (it was admittedly not that tight) and he seems to forget the incident even happened. You’re disappointed with yourself – disappointed that you wanted more than that, and the heat of his fingers was still felt on your thigh. You shake your head to clear it and you sit him on the couch. After getting him a water bottle and some pills to take in the morning when he inevitably has a hangover, you pull him back up again. You guide him to the bathroom and he brushes his teeth.

He frowns as he looks at himself in the mirror, then grabs a washcloth and wipes the makeup off. “I look like a clown.”

“You are a clown,” you tease, and he smiles, content with the observation. He runs his hands through his hair rapidly to release the gelled-down locks and shakes it out. It’s wild, but quite handsome.

“Better?” he asks.

“That’s up to you, champ,” you say, taking his arm and leading him into his bedroom.

“Did I tell you that you have a really nice house?” you ask, lugging him down the hall.

“Do you wanna tour?” he asks, stumbling a bit.

“I want you to sleep, Harrington.”

You follow his lead to find his bedroom, as there are quite a few doors in his house. You’re surprised at how well kept it is – he even made his bed.

“Thought you’d be a slob,” you quip, and he shakes his head vigorously, but has no verbal retort.

You look away as he changes into a shirt and boxers, instead focusing on putting the pills and water bottle down and getting his bed ready for him. You hear him come up behind you and begin to turn, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you right into bed with him.

You don’t know if this is your worst nightmare or best dream. You’d always wanted to be close to him like this, but not like this. Not while he’s drunk and stumbling, slurring his words together. But the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, pressing you against him, was nearly too much to handle.

“Stay,” he whispers. “Please.”

“Steve,” you whisper back, avoiding eye contact. You know if you look at him that you’re fucked.

“Please,” he repeats, pulling you tighter. Your hands rest on his chest, and you chance a look up.

Big mistake.

To you, his eyes say everything. Steve looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. It’s intense and passionate, yet quiet and contemplative. His lips are quirked up in a smile, and you don’t know if you’ve ever seen a more beautiful sight than him above you, messy hair covering his forehead, eyes locked with yours.

Robin’s warning rings through your head. “You need to be careful with him.”

“I’m worried you’re going to fall for him, and not be able to have him.”

Maybe Robin was right – or maybe she was wrong. She’d been wrong before – one time she told you a note was an E flat when it was an F sharp, and one time she told you that it was spaghetti for lunch when it was actually hamburgers. So she could be wrong about this, right? And drunk people are the most truthful, aren’t they? Steve’s being pretty handsy and sweet tonight. Maybe she was wrong.

“Steve.”

He leans in, not to kiss, but because he can’t hear you.

But you think it’s for a kiss.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, barely audible.

He thinks you’re talking about staying the night.

“Yeah,” he slurs, brows knitted. “Of course.”

You smile, heart soaring. If you’ve ever been this happy before, you don’t remember.

You start to lean in, and Steve’s brows knit together even more, to the point that it hurts. For a second, he’s confused – but then he gets it.

He’s out of the bed in less than a second.

You blink in surprise and sit up, pain and confusion coursing through you. Steve sobers up enough to realize this cannot happen. He sobers up enough to remember why he can’t be with you, why he swallows his feelings, why he has been vague and discreet with you the past few weeks. He remembers why he didn’t hang out with you for a long time.

He remembers why he can’t have you.

The room is silent before he finally speaks. “What are you doing?”

“I thought –“

“What are you doing?”

It feels like a slap in the face. Irritated and hurt, you respond, “Well, I thought you were trying to kiss me.”

He shakes his head, eyes wide. “What? Why?”

You crawl out of the bed, standing on the opposite side of Steve. “Because I asked if you were sure, and you said ‘of course’?”

He blinks, dumbfounded. “No, I didn’t.”

Confusion twists into you deeper. “Yes, you did?”

“Y/N,” he breathes. “I can’t kiss you.”

“Why?” You’re hurt, but more confused than anything. Like Steve is trying to pull a sick joke or something. “You’ve been feeling me up all night – looking at me like –“

“Like what?” he snaps.

You shrink, eyes downcast. “I don’t know.”

“Like what?” he repeats, standing still as a statue. His anger grows and he directs it towards you. “Like what, Y/N?”

You shake your head, desperate. “Like – like you – I don’t know, like you thought… like you liked me.”

He shakes his head again. “Y/N, we’re just friends. We’re friends. I’m sorry if you misinterpreted things.”

Your heart pangs. Your confusion turns to fury. “Why do you always lie?”

“What?”

“Why can’t you be real with me, for one minute? Just one minute? Why can’t you tell me what’s going on – why can’t you be real with me?”

He crosses his arms and scoffs. “Want me to be real with you?”

You nod.

“It is impossible for me to love you.”

The silence that falls over the room is deafening. You swear you could hear your heart breaking, splintering apart like wood.

The pause lasts a long time. Finally, meekly, you whisper, “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I mean it,” he spits, eyes glaring into yours. They aren’t warm anymore; they’re cold and unforgiving. They’re mean. They’re sharp and harsh. “It’s impossible for me to love you, to be with you, to think about you like that. I could never be with someone like you.”

Steve’s voice is unwavering, as is his gaze. He reminds you of stone, rough and painful and cold. The confession, however, is devastating, and it takes a conscious effort for you to keep upright. You swallow hard as a million thoughts race into your mind, as your emotions come and go rapidly.

“I thought you changed,” you finally say, voice cracking. You can’t stop the hot tears from falling onto your cheeks. “I thought you changed, Steve. But you’re the same asshole you were in high school.”

You turn on your heels, beelining for the door. As you swing it open, you look back at him – his face is still nothing but mean and uninviting. You’ve never seen him like that before. “Enjoy being alone again, your highness.”

You slam the door behind you but stop yourself from going down the stairs. A part of you thinks he will come out and get you – wrap you up in his arms like he always does, pull you to him, say he’s sorry.

But he never comes.

You descend the stairs slowly, listening with strained ears for any sound of him following you.

Nothing.

You pause at the front door, fiddling with the lock. You click it so that it’s ready to lock behind you. You look back up the steps, but only find darkness. You look forward again and step over the threshold, slamming the door behind you.

Steve crumbles to the ground when he hears the front door close. He puts his head in his hands and sobs, pulling his arms around himself tightly. The image of you, heartbroken, sad, devastated, all because of him, floods through his mind.

He tried to protect you the wrong way, from the wrong people.

He’s not really sure why he’s so upset – it’s not like he’s never lost friends through a big blow out before. And he doesn’t regret pushing you away – it’s what needed to be done to keep you safe. But the emptiness he feels inside himself is greater than he felt when he cut off Tommy and Carol, and he can’t understand. All he knows is that it hurts.

You lean against the steering wheel of your car, absolutely enraged that it still smells like his woodsy cologne. You sit up to wipe at your face and remember the bat in your back seat. You feel the urge to bring it in to him, but you can’t bring yourself to go back in. Instead, you grab a Smiths album from your console – playing it not only because you’d feel it, but also because you know Steve hates them – and blast it as you pull out of his driveway and careen down the road.

You didn’t notice the black car sitting on the corner as you sped off, and you didn’t notice it pull into Steve’s driveway as you left him behind you.

=====

taglist (join here): @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready @m-blasterrr @sourapplebaby @bluebellbrooke @sassisaluxury @comedy-witch

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #the partners #my fics #very PROUD of this one fellas... (lights cigar)

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.84 prt.2

Running across the room they made slipped into the library stacks. Keith pressing himself into the shadows of the corner. In his ear, Shiro asked

“What’s happening?”

Keeping his voice low, Keith’s attention was more on Lance who was squatting in front of the window between two bookshelves

“Company. It’s fine. It sounds like maybe it’s the librarian”

“Let me know if you need a distraction”

Lance interrupted

“No need. We can go out the window”

The what now? Shiro as confused as he was

“What was that?”

“Lance has an idea. Let me check it out”

The window in question was roughly the same size an A3 piece of paper. Lance had worked the bolts out, before lifting the frame free from the housing. Poking his head out, his boyfriend seemed proud of himself

“There’s a ledge. It’s a thin fit, but if you can get on there, I can get us down”

Drawing back inside, Lance gestured to the open window. Keith crouching down to echo his boyfriend’s move

“Babe, the roof is too far”

The roof below was a good three meters. Probably why they thought bolting the windows was enough instead of riveting them in place. Lance’s vampire strength had made easy work of them

“For a human”

Keith was bewildered

“What? You want to jump and leave me up here?”

“No. Look, just get out on the ledge and I’ll get us down”

It was only a matter of time before the theft was noticed. He didn’t want to face an angry librarian

“If I die, I’m coming back to haunt you”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not about to die”

Keith was kind of sure he was about to. The ledge seemed a very bad idea but they didn’t have time to debate it. With zero grace, he climbed out onto the ledge, trying not to look down as he did or drop their pillaged loot. This was a terrible plan and he didn’t even know what the plan was.

Lance climbed onto the ledge as Keith shuffled to the right, to scared to let his fingers leave the glass

“Wrap your arms around me”

“What?”

“Your arms. Wrap them around my shoulders”

“Maybe we should go back inside...”

“Keith, I promise I’ve got this. Do you trust me?”

“You know I trust you”

“Then let go of the window. I’ve you”

Keith shook as he forced himself to wrap his arms around Lance

“Good. Now close your eyes”

Oh fuck... He got the plan now

“Babe...”

“Hold on tight”

As Lance leapt, Keith was hefted up against his chest, burying his face against his boyfriend’s neck as the cool wind whipped past them. Landing hard, Lance kept him up against him

“He’s found the case empty. It’ll be faster if I carry you”

Keith’s stomach was somewhere back on the ledge. What was with Lance and jumping out of windows?! Jogging along the roof, Keith peaked out from his boyfriend’s hold

“Not bad, is it?”

“I reserve the right not to answer”

“Fair. Okay, I’ve got jump down to the next roof here, then off the side when we get to the hallway”

“Wa-...!”

Lance jumped down to the next roof level, Keith trying to tell him to wait turned into an embarrassing squeal as she scrunched his eyes closed

“Keith?!”

No wonder his brother sounded concerned. His voice hadn’t been that high since before his balls dropped

“I’m fine, Shiro!”

Fine for now...

Lance didn’t stop until they’d reached the ground. Standing Keith up carefully, Keith couldn’t describe the love he felt for the grass beneath his boots. Lance pulling out parkour moves didn’t feel right. His boyfriend usually to uncoordinated to be “cool”

“Told you I could do it”

Eyeing his boyfriend, Keith noticed two thick bat wings standing tall from Lance’s back, Lance shooting him finger guns

“I don’t know where they came from but they came out when I jumped”

Lance was acting like a weird vampire again. It worried Keith

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You’re the who hid his face as I jumped. We better move. The librarian would have called the police by now”

“Are you guys out?”

Keith nodded, though Shiro couldn’t see him

“Yeah. Near the front gates. We need a pick up. Lance has his wings again”

Trying to get a better look at them, Lance was turning circles like a moron. Kind of the same feelings rising in Keith when he’d watch Kosmo chase his own tail

“On it, number two! You and number three hang tight”

Coran sounded confident. Keith was not confident in Coran’s driving. His intuition turned fact a good few minutes later as Coran bunny hopped to a stalling stop in front of the school gate. Grabbing Lance by the hand, Keith pulled him along as he jogged to the van that wasn’t conspicuous at all.

Pulling Lance into the back of the van, Lance tugged his mask off as Keith pulled the rolled door shut. His teeth were long enough to poke out, and he was absolutely beaming

“Hell yeah. We did it!”

Coran stalled as he started the van up. Trying again, he managed to get the engine running

“You did very well the pair of you. I knew you made an excellent team”

Keith couldn’t find any enthusiasm in him. They’d pulled it off, but helping Lotor left him feeling sick

“I know right. It was totally Keith though”

“You’re the one who jumped out the window”

“Off the ledge, not out the window. Come on, Babe, I cradled you in my arms as I did”

“You still jumped. How do you have energy?”

Keith wanted to go to bed. The adrenaline in his system was wearing off left him sleepy

“I don’t. I want my pyjamas, my robe, my slippers and a hot shower”

“Shower first. You need to clean up”

Wrinkling his nose, Lance looked to his crotch

“Yeah. It really doesn’t feel nice at all. I’m glad we got out of there fast”

From the front of the van, Coran cheerfully agreed in a way with Lance

“I was quite nervous for the pair of you when you had company. No one entered of left, and the campus was supposed to be vacant given the hour”

“Some warming would have been nice. There’s death in there. Plus at least one member of staff that’s already noticed the theft. Are you right to drive manual?”

“Manual?”

Did Coran not know the car had a manual transmission? Why did Keith get a sinking feeling?! They should have had Shiro drive and Coran stay behind. They hadn’t needed

the fae’s weird magic

“I’ll drive. Move over so I can climb through”

“Never you mind, number three. I can handle this”

“I mind when my boyfriend isn’t properly restrained. Move over so I can get through the gap”

The gap between the front and the back was slim, and it meant climbing over the bench seat

“You’re not going to fit. Stay in the back”

Lance cocked his head, Keith explaining

“You wings. They’re too big”

The vampire’s lips formed a silent “oh”. Coran sounded even happier than before as he threw over his shoulder

“He has a point. Never you two mind, we’ll be there in a jiffy”

Closing his eyes, Keith sent out a metal prayer they would.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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colawinston · 5 years ago

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“I don’t like ‘em...I just...”

♠︎ A little angsty dally / reader fic where reader comes to tell her boyfriend that she’s pregnant....and he’s not friendly about it. ♠︎ tw: no trigger warnings, except maybe language? talk of an abortion? mentions of sex. this is kinda jank omg sorry

He was at Buck’s again. That’s where he seemed to stay most often nowadays. ‘Spose it made sense — they were rodeo buddies, friends (even if Dallas refused to admit it), and Buck never seemed to mind to give Dally a place to sleep and sometimes you, if you bothered to be comfortable enough to spend the night in his home, as noisy as it became on weekends. It was the ideal place to find him, but then again, you figured it was better than nothing.

Better than the Curtis’ home...

Yeah, had you been there, this would have been a lot different. At least here, you could get a little privacy with no worry of a group of boys running around your ankles like a group of toddlers, hollerin’ and jokin’ like they did, eavesdropping in business that wasn’t theirs. Of course, even if you were at the Curtis’ home, you could get Dally alone, talk to him without curious ears.

But you weren’t. You were standing outside the door of Buck’s having knocked, and you waited. Nervously, almost impatiently. You twisted Dally’s ring on your finger, the thread that had been wrapped around the thick band to ensure it fit your digit practically rubbing your skin raw. What was taking so long? It was damn well past eleven-thirty on a Sunday, the both of them should be up should’t they? Just as your hand rose to knock one more time, the lock clicked and the door was cracked open.

“Y/N?” A groggy Buck rubbed his eye with the back of his fingers, voice still thick with sleep. “Lookin’ for Dally?” He asked, but barely waited for an answer before he stepped back to let you in.

You shut the door behind you as you stepped past the threshold, the house far cooler than the air outside — out of the sun, out the heat of the Tulsa summer. The house was quiet except for the creak of the floorboards beneath Buck’s heavy foot steps as he made his way toward the kitchen. You stood quietly in the foyer area, still twisting the ring, rocking on your feet. Was he going to say anything? Tell you where Dally was? Offer to let you go upstairs? Of course, you could probably of just gone up without asking — you’d been over plenty of times, had been up and down those stairs over and over again. You could go up, right? It seemed buck had caught on to your awkward politeness, peeking from his kitchen.

“Dally’s asleep upstairs,” He said, and without hesitation, you bounded up the creaky stairs.

The door was already cracked, and it swung open silently with the slightest push. The room was still dark for this early in the day, curtains draw to keep the bright summer sun out. Dally was sprawled out on his front, the blue comforter pooled around his waist, his hands tucked beneath the pillow and his head faced the wall. You lingered in the doorway, watching him, eyes raking over the curve of his shoulders and down his back. He was always so tranquil when he was asleep, and you almost didn’t want to wake him up. But he had to know, he just had to.

The door was shut with a quiet click, shoes toed off by the door and the distance closed. Your knee met the mattress, pushing yourself over Dally’s sleeping body to come settle next to him. He stirred slightly at the commotion, one eye peaking open.

“Hey, baby,” He murmured, voice thick with sleep and gravely. He didn’t seem all to annoyed that you’d woken him up, but he rarely ever did. Guess it was just seeing you that kept his blood from boiling over so quickly because he was disturbed. “Come in for a little early morning worship?” He teased, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand as he turned over to lay on his back. He got a little chuckle from himself, but you were far more focused on the bruises he was sporting now that you could see them.

“What happened to you?” You asked immediately, reaching out to lightly touch his face, but Dally batted your hand away.

“Got into a fight with Tim Shepherd.” He told you, still blinking sleep from his eyes and noticing the look on your face. “I played fair, don’t worry.” He reached out to tug a bit at your sleeve, eyebrows raised. “What’s up with you?”

Dallas Winston wasn’t good at much besides fightin’ and getting himself into trouble — and he’d tell you as much — and talking really wasn’t one of his strong suites either unless he was ragging on somebody or cussing up a storm and threatening someone, but he’d gotten good at reading people, at least reading you. He’d gotten real good at picking up when you were upset and things of the sort.

You opened your mouth to say something, but shut it again. It felt like your heart had dropped into your stomach. It didn’t feel right telling him, but it’d be wrong not to tell him. It’d be wrong to hide it, pretend you didn’t know until it was obvious, that you’d been late, that it was obviously his. Perhaps if you hid it, shit would hit the fan when it was discovered and it would only be dramatic. But it felt wrong. Why? Oh, you didn’t know — it was ridiculous. This shouldn’t have been this hard.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Dally propped himself up on his elbows, brows bunched together in a thin line as he looked at you. A look of concern crossed his face. Before he could open his mouth and say anything else, you spoke up.

“Dallas, I’m pregnant.” It came out quickly, rushed and quiet. You looked at him only long enough to see his face change — the concern washed away and replaced with shock, and then softened into something else you didn’t bother to pick up by the time you averted your gaze.

The room grew quiet, almost tense. It felt heavy, but wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt as though a heavy blanket had been draped over your shoulders, weighing you into the bed. Neither of you said anything, but Dally had pulled himself to sit up completely, mulling over the situation. You didn’t want to look at him, you knew how he felt about kids and shit like that. You both took the precautions you could, which really involved him buying condoms and making sure he used them — but that wasn’t foolproof.

He was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. “You sure?” He asked, voice rough and low. It didn’t help the growing knot in your belly.

You merely nodded, unable to find your voice. Was it supposed to be this scary? Well, surely! You were both seventeen, for Christ’s sake! You weren’t old enough to be a mother! You hadn’t graduated high school, your parents were going to kill you when they found it — and it’d be worse considering Dallas Winston was the father of the unborn baby. Not like you were the most upstanding citizen, but your family was well enough off that it’d tarnish something important. “Yeah,” You finally squeaked out, rolling your lips in. “I’m two months late...I’ve been getting sick lately and am exhausted....”

You only looked up to see Dallas getting off the bed, fixing the waistband of his boxers before he bent to grab his jeans. The look on his face was indiscernible, though the way his muscles tensed and rippled beneath his skin you could tell he was unhappy. The knot in your belly tightened, got heavier.

“You’re not just pulling my leg? Sylvia did that shit with me, and I don’t fuckin’ like it...” He started, pulling his jeans on and buttoning them. His voice was hard, but when he looked at you, he almost looked hurt. Well, maybe not hurt. Dallas Winston didn’t get hurt, he’s the one who hurt people. He looked as though he’d been struck in the face. When you barely gave a nod, he shoulders dropped. This is it, you thought, he’s going to end it.

“Can’t you like...get rid of it? Markowski’s sister did that an—”

“Dallas!” It came out louder, harder than you expected it to, and now it was your turn to look hurt. You gave him an incredulous look, and in turn he shrugged and looked away. “I...Wh-....I can’t do that.” You say. This earned a small shrug from Dallas, who pressed his tongue into his cheek. “That’s...That’s illegal and wrong and...and...” And it’s our baby.

He finally looked at you, hands hitting his thighs, and his features softened. “I’m just saying, y/n...We...We can’t...” he paused and sighed, it nothing more than a frustrated huff. “I can’t fuckin’ be a dad. I don’t even like kids. You really want me to be a dad! Do you?” He asked, waving his hand some. “And I really don’t think you’re gonna haul ass off to Florida like Sandy did Soda. Look, there’s ways, and —”

“I’m not getting rid of it, Dallas!” You told him, and shutting him for a split second. The anger and boldness died quickly however, as your eyes stung with tears. Impatiently wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand, you kept your gaze off him. “Look, I’m scared and maybe it was foolish to come to you about it....” ‘Y/n...’ “I don’t want to be a mother as much as you don’t want to be a dad, but...but this is where I am, Dally, and I need you. Please?” It was desperate, pleading. Silence grew between the two of you again, and you could feel his eyes boring into you, already able to envision his tight jaw and cold eyes.

The dresser drawer opened, and Dallas sighed once more. “I’m going out for a smoke. We’ll talk about it.” He muttered, tugging a shirt over his head and had no hesitation to leave the room, leaving you sitting on the bed and staring at the empty space where he’d been laying moments before. We’ll talk about it, he said, and that only made the knot in your stomach bulk and writhe.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dally imagine #dally x reader #sorry the ending is so JANK #i havent written a fanfic like this in a while hshsdkj #rumblincadefic

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negans-wifeyy · 5 years ago

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Shake Hands with the Devil pt.1

Summary: Laila was hungry for revenge ever since the death of her sister. The only way to fight the monster who killed her is to confront him in his natural habitat: the Sanctuary. As she infiltrates the kingdom of the leader of the Saviors in the hopes to kill him, things will not go the way she thoroughly planned. What will she do now that Negan has gotten her in the palm of his hand?

Pairing: Negan X OFC

Warning: None for now but eventual smut

Tags: revenge, hate, possession

Word count: 2361

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fiction that I ever post anywhere, and I chose Negan as the male protagonist because I’m literally obsessed with his character. I also chose a black protagonist because I couldn’t find ANY good fics pairing Negan with even a person of color on Tumblr, fanfiction.net or even Ao3. Since there wasn’t anything I could identify myself with, I decided to write my own thing. Hope y’all enjoy. PS: English is neither my first or second language so please be patient and correct me if there are mistakes or it’s not coherent. Also, the text in italics is in the past and time-lapse are separated by asterisks.

A/N 2: This is a repost from the @thoughtsandthotsss blog. I wanted this fiction and other content to be on a blog focused solely on TWD. So there you have it again and make sure to like and follow again :)

———–

For the past weeks, I’ve been doing everything possible that was asked of me to do in the Sanctuary. Attending to my duties, keeping my head down, staying away from trouble and most importantly, avoiding the leading man of the Saviors. But here I was now, sitting face to face with him in his “office” and waiting for my faith.

“Well, well, well” Negan started as he stood up from his seat. “Here we are again, Laila. Just you and me. Last time we were here together, you infiltrated my kingdom, killed a dozen of my best soldiers and then, came to this very room with a gun pointed at the back of my head to avenge your sister’s death.”

I avoided his gaze and stayed silenced. Just being in his presence made me sick to my stomach. Unlike everyone around here, I didn’t fear the man with the barbed-wire bat. Whatever reason he called me in here for, good or bad, he could just get to the point, so I didn’t have to converse with him any longer than I wanted to.

“So, you’re just gonna stay quiet? I remember you being pretty chatty the first time we spoke.” He snickered. “Don’t you wanna know why I called you in here?”

“Not really. Whatever sick, twisted mind game you feel like playing today, I don’t think it’s going to require me to respond back to you.” I finally broke my silence.

“Still quick-witted huh? With your track record, I wouldn’t be so mouthy with me. I mean, I did spare your life and let you become one of my hit women. My most reliable one too.” He responded as he got to the seat closer to me.

“I don’t know how grateful I can be after everything that you’ve done” I caught my breath remembering the terror he caused this past year to me and my entourage. “You kept Sasha captive, you used her life to blackmail the Alexandrians and you led her to kill herself. Oh, and let’s not forget you terrorizing and murdering the members of my community. “

“I thought that we buried the hatchet on your sister’s passing sweetheart. And also, on the deaths of your Alexandria buddies.”

“You mean like Glenn and Abraham? They are not my ‘Alexandrian buddies’ they were my family. And no, I still haven’t let that go since I can’t give anyone of them proper justice.” I said angrily to Negan who just stared at me grinning.

“Don’t really remember the two others but I do miss that strong-headed Sasha from time to time” He said which made my blood boil even more. “Could have used her warrior skills here. Good thing you’re here the replace her memory.”

“Leave her name out of her mouth.” I fired at him. His words were really getting to me.

Talking about my big sister again was making me so emotional but I didn’t want Negan to see me vulnerable, so I held back my tears and stare right back into his sneering eyes. I needed to be as fearless and strong as the day I was going to kill him. Even if it was weeks ago and I clearly failed my mission, I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

Negan was wandering by himself in his office where he holds up his meeting with some of the Saviors and probably torture some others. I peaked through the crack of the door and as soon as his back was turned, I sneaked in with my AK-47 directing at his head and locked the door shut.

“Don’t you move now motherfucker” I spat at him as he raised both his hands up to surrender. Even in that position, I could still sense the smirk from that bastard.

“Can I at least turn around to see the face of my perpetrator?” Negan eventually said. “I wanna match the face to the sweet voice I’m hearing”

“Empty your pocket first ” I ordered.

“Bossy. Just how I like em” He said as he threw on the floor all his weapons.

“Don’t be smart with me. I’m gonna search you now and I better find nothing” I patted him down to his ankles in all the usual hiding spots and found a pocket knife that I threw with the rest of his armoury.

"I usually don’t need to use this one. Forgot I had it on me. Sorry sweetheart”

“Don’t give a shit. Turn around and stop calling me sweetheart.”

As soon as he saw me, he immediately recognized who I was. And that infamous grin of his slowly faded away.

“Remember me?” I asked, my voice getting angrier from seeing his face so up-close. “The name’s Laila. Not sweetheart or whatever pet name you tryna call me”

“Ok. Laila, it is then. I do remember you; you’re Sasha’s sister. I think it’s pretty obvious now why you’re here.”

“Yes, I am. I’m going to fucking kill you. For Sasha and every single person that I cherished that you killed over your ego power trip. You fucking psychopath. “ I snapped at him. His smirky little face might have gone away but he still was unfazed about whatever I was saying to him.

"Darling, if you want to end me for some sort of revenge, you’re gonna have to take a number” He said back mischievously.

“Don’t call me darling either!” I barked at him as I charged my rifle at him.

“Wooah woah Laila!” Negan shouted finally shaking in his boots "Even though I know you’re very much capable of doing it, you don’t really wanna kill me”

“What makes you think that? I want your head on a stick more than anything”

“Well, with the massacre that you already caused downstairs, adding me to the list would make you an even more disgusting person that I am”

“You and I are not the fucking same. You knew about the damage I literally just did to your people inside the Sanctuary and chose to stay in your own little space, turning a blind eye. How can call yourself a leader after that?” I said to him even more furious than ever.

“Maybe it was all part of my plan” Negan confidently said with a malicious smile.

“What pla—” I didn’t have time to finish when a sharp object hit the back of my head.

As I fell on the floor, the two last things I saw in between two blinks were Dwight behind me with a gun in his hand and a walkie under the table that was open during this entire encounter. After that, everything was blank.

I woke up possibly hours later tied up to a chair in a small dark room. The daylight coming from the small window brightened the room which meant that I was unconscious all night. In the corner to my right, Simon was standing there waiting for me to wake up. I immediately started squirming and moaning in pain when I saw him calling Negan with a radio. I tried to scream for help but the clothe wrapped around my mouth prevented me from it. It wouldn’t have amounted to anything anyway since Negan’s tall figure entered the room as I was struggling to loosen my restraints.

“Morning sunshine!” Negan exclaimed as he approached me doing his signature “leaning back” jig with Lucille tightly gripped in his hand. “As much as I love the sound of your voice with your mouth gagged right now, I’m really curious to know what you’ve got to say for yourself after the shitstorm you caused yesterday.”

He gestured to Simon to leave us alone and took off the cloth to let me speak.

“Fuck you, you prick.” I said to him without even a flinch. He could bound me all he wants but he wasn’t going to take my dignity, and I could see that it was getting him mad. Negan took his precious bat to lift it up underneath my chin.

“It’s not a habit of mine to put my hands on a woman but if you keep disrespecting me like that, I’ll make an exception. Got it? “He threatened me with the most dominating expression I’ve ever seen. Knowing what he could do, I just nodded.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’ve seen some of your work on the guards that you executed on your way to kill me and I gotta say, I’m very impressed. I don’t usually do this type of thing with perpetrators who try to gun me down but for you sweetie, I’ll bend the rules. From now on, I want you to be a part of this community as one of my hitmen or should I say hit-woman.”

“So, you want me to kill other people for you, even though I tried to kill you? Thanks, but no thanks ”

“Well, I don’t think you really have a choice sweetheart. It’s either you work for me or I feed you to the walkers that we keep in a cage at the back of the Sanctuary”

As he said that, he pushed Lucille harder into my chin. I definitely felt more threatened and trapped. With my hands tied, both physically and figuratively, I had to accept his offer.

“Fine. I’ll do it”. I finally said feeling like I fell right into the trap of the big bad wolf.

“Good. Here are the conditions: You’re going to work solely into protecting the Saviours which means no going behind my back to help the Alexandrians or to try to kill me again. If you don’t respect this, I won’t be afraid to use my Lucille here. Are we clear?”

“Yes..“ I surrounded. As soon as I did, he let go of Lucille off my chin.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Negan said a leaned closer to me and put his hands on the handles of my chair. “Whatever pet name I feel like calling you, you’re gonna have to accept it. It’s my kingdom after all and if you’re gonna be part of it, you’ll live by my own rules. Got it, sweetheart?”

I just nodded back and at that point, I didn’t know if I was more disgusted by his cruel behaviour or by myself for being a sellout.

And just like that, I became one of Negan’s executioner. Although, from my perspective, I became one of the killing monsters who did Negan’s dirty job for him. Any enemy, walker or human, who is a menace to the Sanctuary gets a bullet right in the skull from me whether I like it or not.

The first week was the hardest. I was so miserable being stuck in this place. It wasn’t because I failed my initial mission or even because I was away from my group with no news from them. It was just the daily apprehension of possibly having to gun down Alexandrians who could try to sneak into the Sanctuary like I did. With me going missing and Rick’s thirst for vengeance as strong as mine, it was very likely to happen. Fortunately, another Saviour told me that the day after my infiltration, Negan paid a visit to Rick and the members of Alexandria to tell them that I was now part of the Sanctuary. He also warned them that if any of them tried to come to my rescue, they would risk their life and mine.

It might not have come from the heart, but I still feel like that threat was a gesture from Negan to ease their minds and mine. So that I could accommodate myself better to the situation, I guess. And after that, I didn’t hear from Negan until today.

“Alright now, I won’t speak of her again, especially since she’s not the reason I wanted to meet you today.” Negan said after our back and forth about Sasha. I didn’t understand why he would talk about her knowing how it would make me feel. God, what an asshole he could be.

“What is it then?” I asked him indifferent about whatever he was going to respond.

“Usually, when I meet Saviours in this very room, it’s generally to punish them after they did something wrong, to betray me perhaps.” He said with a deadpan look in his face. At first, I didn’t care about the reason he wanted to meet me but, with those stern eyes staring right back at me, I couldn’t help but gulp. As soon as he saw me sweat a bit, Negan chuckled lightly to himself. “Don’t worry honey, it’s not your case, you can relax”

This motherfucker. He couldn’t help himself but to toy with me a little for his own sadistic pleasure I can only assume.

“You have nothing to worry about precious. Your situation is quite the opposite actually. All I’ve been hearing from everyone around here is how great you’ve been doing. And honestly, their opinions don’t really matter since I’ve been keeping an eye on you daily” Negan surprisingly said.

“Like spying on me?” I asked quite unsettled.

“Not spying on, just keeping an eye like I said.” He corrected. “It’s not like you’ve been doing anything shady babe. I observed you from afar and all I saw was a great warrior protecting her community.”

“You mean forced into protecting it? The Sanctuary is not my community.” I told him very truthfully.

“Whether it was intentional or not, I saw how well you fought and I wanted you to know how pleased I am to see that. Which brings me directly to the point of this meeting”

“I thought we were never gonna get there. Why did you call me here?”

"Hush sweetheart. I’ll tell you eventually, but I need you to keep an open mind”

“Ok..”

“I wanted to promote into a position that will give you the best accommodations you can get in the Sanctuary while still being my main hit-woman”

“What position is that?

“I want you to become one of my wives”

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signs-of-the-moon · 4 years ago

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Moon Rise: Chapter 39

Warning: this chapter features depictions of an illness that may be considered similar to Covid-19, and could potentially upset those effected by it. Reader discretion is advised

Swiftcloud awoke early the next day, emerging from the shelter of the warrior's den into the crisp morning air. The clearing was shrouded in darkness. The sky above was nothing more than a depressing gray slate. Snow still fell upon the meadow, turning everything powdery white. Even the ground underpaw was covered. Swiftcloud shivered as a chill started to seep into her pawpads. She skipped over towards the shadow of the Tall Stone, where less snow had settled. Even here the ground was as cold as stone, but it was better than standing ankles deep in the white substance.

Other warriors stood within this small clearing. Chicorynose sat above the rest, atop Tall Stone's peak. It appeared she was ready to send out the dawn patrol.

"This morning we will be prioritizing our border patrols over hunting," the deputy began, "it'll be harder to catch anything while the sun's barely risen, especially with this snow. For now, let's ensure all of our scent markers have been freshened up. Shadowfang, lead a patrol to the Twolegplace border. Cloverpetal, you'll take a patrol to the Forest Patch. And Cowpatch will lead one to Mountainclan. You three may choose whoever you want to join you."

Instantly Shadowfang turned to acknowledge his mate. "You already know I'm having you join me," he remarked to Swiftcloud.

"You'd better," Swiftcloud warned teasingly, "someone has to be around to make sure you don't go fighting any more kittypets."

"That was one time! I was young. Besides, how was I supposed to know that kittypet would one day become the love of my life?"

Swiftcloud let out a flustered mrrow of laughter, batting at Shadowfang's whiskers playfully. "So who else are you going to take on your patrol?"

"How about Bumblethroat and Sheeptail?" Shadowfang suggested

"Good idea," Swiftcloud agreed, turning. "Let's go find them."

"No need, I've already found you." Bumblethroat came padding over to the mates, tail held high in greetings. "I was just about to ask if I could join you two. I need a good jog. My chest's feeling kind of heavy today and I'm hoping the morning air will do me some good."

"Why don't you see a medicine cat about that?" Swiftcloud prompted, lifting a paw to lick warm.

"I'm sure I'll be alright. It's nothing to bother Goldensong and Mistyleaf over. How about I grab Sheeptail for you, and we'll meet you two over by the brambles?"

"Sounds good," Shadowfang agreed to the plan. "We'll be waiting. Try not to take too long."

***

The sun slowly creeped overhead as the patrol made their way across the snowy meadow. The land was still dark, the fields hard to navigate behind it's flurry curtain. But the four warriors had been this way dozens of times; by now they didn't need their sight to know where they were headed. When they'd arrived, three out of the patrol wasted no time remarking the border. One cat, however, was straggling behind.

Bumblethroat came hobbling over to the others, wheezing. His breathing came out more as a ragged pant as he settled beside his clanmates. Despite concerned looks, the tom insisted that he was fine. Shadowfang and Sheeptail chose to believe him, but Swiftcloud was skeptical.

Later, as the patrol made their way along the edge of their territory, Bumblethroat began to cough. The cough didn't appear to be a mere tickle in his throat, nor was it a one off instance throughout the rest of the mission. It became more of an upsetting, reoccurring nuisance. By the time the dawn patrol was concluded, the tabby looked as though he'd run across the whole meadow and back.

"Bumblethroat, you really should go see Goldensong," Swiftcloud insisted as they entered the camp. Bumblethroat whimpered a little, then nodded his head in defeat. The white and black patched molly watched as her clanmate made his way over to the medicine den. She stared onward for an extra couple of heartbeats to make sure the tom would keep his word. Satisfied, shr turned her attention elsewhere for the remainder of the day.

Two days passed. Many of clan awoke to the sound Sheeptail wheezing. Swiftcloud sat up in her nest to study the white tom, still a groggy from sleep. Sheeptail's head was bent and back arched, jaws parted in a pant as he tried to catch his breath. Around them, despite how late into the night it was, every cat was on edge. Swiftcloud's denmates slowly crawled away from Sheeptail, like he would lash out and kill them at any moment. Swiftcloud didn't understand why they were all making such a fuss. She stood, padding towards Sheeptail to check on him. Certainly no one else would.

"Swiftcloud!" A pair of jaws clamped around her scruff. The patched molly turned to look into the worried eyes of her mate who began to drag her back with all the might he could muster. Swiftcloud promptly pulled herself from Shadowfang's grasp, turning to face him, awaiting an explanation.

"Don't go near him. I don't want you getting sick, too," Shadowfang mewled.

"He's not sick," Swiftcloud insisted, though she was clearly in denial. There's no way a third cat could be sick. Rosebloom was isolated yesterday. The greencough couldn't possibly be spreading. Could it..?

"Can't you smell it? Sheeptail is ill, Swift. Or getting there. Bumblethroat and Rosebloom have already been confirmed to have something. It's better we be safe than sorry," Shadowfang insisted in return. Swiftcloud huffed, sitting down. Shadowfang came to stand in front of her, as if he could protect her from the possible disease with his body.

"Sheeptail, dear, why don't you go and have a little chat with Goldensong?" Quailbelly suggested to the tom, shielded behind the large form of Frostfeather.

Sheeptail lifted his head weakly. He nodded then rose to his paws, practically dragging himself out of the warrior's den. Swiftcloud's denmates let out a collective sigh once the senior warrior was out of sight. They moved back to their usual nests, tension still heavy in the atmosphere. Shadowfang shook out his pelt to rid himself of his nerves.

"I'm sorry about that. But we can't risk you catching whatever he may have," the black tom mewed, bumping his head against Swiftcloud's chin. Swiftcloud nodded in understanding, licking Shadowfang on his muzzle before settling down with him in their shared nest.

More coughing erupted outside in the morning when the warriors awoke once more. Slugsnout and Snailear were paired together, herded by concerned clanmates over to the medicine den. At a safe distance, of course. And in the days to come, more cats would follow. Meadowcall, Ladybugbite, Boulderfall, Seedpaw, and a few of the clan's kits were among them. Too many cats to house in the medicine den. A decision was made to move all sick cats to one location. Anyone with even the slightest cough was isolated in the elder's den, sending the displaced elders to live with the warriors for a while. After all, the den was halfway vacant.

Things stayed pretty contained, or at least for a few days. Then another case of greencough would make itself known, and Whitestar would begrudgingly have to order another cat to quarentine.

Grassclan's warriors were dropping like flies, and at the worst possible time. Leafbare fully settled upon the Land's Star; most prey had gone into hiding or hibernation for the season. The snow remained ever present on the meadow, making the world seem that much bleaker. Cats were hungrier now than they'd been in previous moons. And that drove the remaining healthy warriors to work themselves to the bone, as they tried to provide for the rest of the clan.

Swiftcloud was no different. Sometimes, she'd stay out long into the night trying to find a bite to eat. And when she'd catch something, the prey always went right to the queens. She made sure to that.

Three quarter moons had passed since the first cat had been diagnosed with greencough. By now it'd been two days since Swiftcloud had anything to eat. Her belly ached, so badly that she felt as if she were dying. She had no idea why she felt so awful. She'd grown used to hunger by now. Despite the risk of going, she decided to take herself to the medicine den. Maybe the medicine cats would have an herb that would cure the knawing pain in her intestines. Luckily no sick cats were in the den at this time. Mistyleaf and Snowfrost sat within the tree trunk's confines alone, shuffling through a pile of herbs.

"Do you think there's enough here to provide everyone a dose?" Mistyleaf asked. Snowfrost twitched her whiskers.

"Hardly," she admitted. "Hopefully enough to at least dull their symptoms. Adding in chickweed might help. Oh- and we'll need to add some tansy to Rosebloom's mixture today. She's running a fever."

Swiftcloud felt bad for pulling the healers away from their work, but she was desperate. "Um, excuse me?" She meeped.

"Swiftcloud!" Mistyleaf perked up. "What's wrong? You don't appear to be sick. How are you feeling?"

"My stomach hurts. It feels as though my insides are missing," she explained with a grimace.

Mistyleaf stepped away from her task, sniffing her friend. "Hm. When was the last time you ate?"

Swiftcloud blinked. The thought of food had barely crossed her mind recently. "Ate..? Um...well, I can't remember honestly. All the prey I've caught I've used to feed the queens and kits."

"But you didn't think to save some for yourself?" Snowfrost snorted.

Swiftcloud shrank in her fur. "The Code says queens and elders eat before the warriors."

"And you didn't think that the Warrior Code may want you to save at least a mouthful of food for yourself? You're a adult, Swiftcloud use your head!" The medicine cat snapped. Snowfrost gave her head a shake, putting her focus back on her herbs. She muttered to herself as she sorted through her supplies, clearly agitated by Swiftcloud's ignorance. "Warriors and their pride, I swear it's obnoxious sometimes."

"Snowfrost has a point," Mistyleaf agreed. "I'm sure the reason your stomach feels so bad is because you've been starving yourself."

Starving..? That was a concept Swiftcloud hadn't been familiar with before. In her life she'd barely known hunger, yet alone something so severe. A luxury, perhaps, she was granted due to being born a kittypet. Swiftcloud had known of starvation, but never realized it would make her feel so hollow. For a brief moment, Swiftcloud thought back to the day she had been invited to join the clan. Whitestar had warned about the dangers of Leafbare. The fierce cold, the lack of food. And yet, despite facing it all now Swiftcloud had no regrets. She would always be happy to be part of Grassclan, even if she had to go hungry.

"You need to go have something to eat." Mistyleaf's voice cut into Swiftcloud's thoughts. "Consider this a medicine cat's orders. And if anyone should gripe at you about it, tell them they can come speak to us."

Swiftcloud nodded weakly, eyes wide in shock at the stern tone Mistyleaf had acquired. She was too stunned to speak, in too much pain to even think. Instead, Swiftcloud turned herself around and brought herself out to the fresh-kill pile. The pile was the smallest that she had ever seen it. Swiftcloud knew a hunting party had recently returned home. Yet there was only a half sized mouse and a scrawny vole to choose from. Swiftcloud didn't care which she ate, all she knew now was that she needed this food. Just the smell of it alone reminded her of how hungry she truly was.

Out of desperation she gave into her temptations. Swiftcloud quickly snatched up the vole, pulling it close to her chest. The first bite she took was glorious. The flavors sang loudly on her tongue, and her stomach begged her to eat more. Swiftcloud consumed the rest of her meal in a matter of heartbeats, the delicious meat of the vole disappearing inside of her all too soon. For a moment, Swiftcloud felt satisfied. But the sight of the mouse still sitting there on the icy ground was calling to her. Well...I haven't eaten in a while. And Mistyleaf did say to eat, so... Swiftcloud got back to her paws. With claws extended she gripped the mouse up and pulled it towards her. As she was about to settle down to eat again, Rabbitstorm appeared through the bramble tunnel. His eyes were sunken, his expression miserable. In his grasp he held nothing, despite returning home from hunting. The lynx point tom practically dragged himself over to Swiftcloud, slumping into the snow as he sat beside her. Swiftcloud resisted the urge to whimper. She hated seeing her friend so defeated. Since Heatherwing had died, Rabbitstorm hadn't been the same. He was more work driven, and a bit snappier with others. It was almost as if he'd reverted back to an apprentice again; in personality at least. Although Rabbitstorm had become a bit clingier. When he wasn't doing work, he was spending time with his mother or siblings. And when they were too busy, he'd come to spend time with Swiftcloud. She was honored, honestly, that Rabbitstorm found comfort in her company. At least she thought he did. It was hard to tell. Regardless, Rabbitstorm's constant presence reassured her at least that the bond they had formed hadn't shifted back with his attitude.

Despite her stomach growling at her, urging her to go back to eating, Swiftcloud refused to do so. Instead, she pushed the mouse over to Rabbitstorm, showing him a soft smile. "Here. I think you could use this more than I can right now," she meowed. "I know it's not much, but-"

"Thank you," Rabbitstorm interrupted with a sigh of relief. He lowered his head, taking small bites of the prey in front of him. He leaned his larger body against Swiftcloud's, warming her with his long fur. Swiftcloud felt grateful for the tom's presence, and was happy to have a friend like him. In the beginning, Rabbitstorm had hated Swiftcloud. The two were practically rivals, insulting each other, playing tricks on one another. But after many moons they were finally getting along. Sure on occasion the two would pass on snarky remarks, but now it was all in good fun. Rabbitstorm wasn't such a bad cat. And Swiftcloud hoped that he thought the same of her.

Rabbitstorm let out a satisfied sigh as his mouse became nothing more than fur and bones. He purred, turning to groom Swiftcloud's shoulder. In return she cleaned his. For a few moments the pair shared tongues, comfortable in the silence that had settled between them. But a gust of cold wind blew through the camp, making the warriors jump to their paws. In silent agreement they walked with each other to enter the warmth of the warriors' den.

Here, the remaining healthy warriors of the clan were taking shelter. Most had been out not long ago, finishing patrols and returning empty pawed from their hunting parties. A gloom seemed to hang heavy in the hollowed stone den. Swiftcloud saw depression in some cats eyes. In one way or another, every cat was connected to the ill or starving. If they weren't among those directly suffering.

Quietly in the back of the den, Swiftcloud could see Cloverpetal crying. She hadn't eaten in nearly a quarter moon, and Swiftcloud knew the other molly was reaching her breaking point. But still, she refused food. She wanted everyone else to eat instead. Cloverpetal was a quiet, kind soul. She would never complain about anything, and would give someone the fur off her back if they needed it. But Swiftcloud thought the pale calico molly was being foolish. Still, she wouldn't say anything. Not long ago Swiftcloud was doing the same exact thing. She knew she had no right to judge.

In the center of the den, the clan's two remaining elders laid. Tornface was grooming his pelt, possibly trying to warm himself. While Smokesnout lay curled in a ball, his son Shadowfang beside him. The two toms were not very close, but Shadowfang still respected his father. In this trying time he was determined to provide the elderly tom some support, especially since he was the only family Smokesnout had left. Swiftcloud admired that in her mate. He cared, even if he didn't have much reason to. Smokesnout wasn't much of a father; he never showed the same compassion for his kit as Ashwhisker, the dam of his litter, did. But Shadowfang wouldn't hold it against him. Some cats weren't cut out to be parents.

Swiftcloud touched her nose to Rabbitstorm's ear gently as she tiptoed towards the center of the den. She settled by Shadowfang's side, giving his cheek a good rub with her own. Shadowfang purred a little from her affection, a warm glow in his eyes. But the glow swiftly dimmed as he turned his gaze back onto Smokesnout.

"He's gone," Shadowfang whispered only loud enough for his mate to hear.

Swiftcloud blinked in confusion. "W..what?"

"Smokesnout," Shadowfang clarified, licking the dusky elder's still shoulder. "He's dead."

Swiftcloud felt her heart drop into her paws, a ringing dulling her hearing. "What do you mean he's dead? H-how? When...?" She stammered, voice low.

Shadowfang sighed, looking melancholy. "A little while ago. I noticed he stopped breathing... But he's so peaceful, I don't want to take him from his nest yet."

"Shadowfang..." Swiftcloud pressed herself into her mate. "I'm so sorry.... But, we shouldn't keep him here anymore. The clan will want to know he's gone; they'll want to mourn him."

"I know," Shadowfang sighed once more, rising to his paws. He bent his head, griping Smokesnout's body by the scruff. Swiftcloud stood to be with them. At once, the focus of the entire den fell upon them. Every cat's eyes were dark; a knowing look passing between each of them. Shadowfang tried not to pay attention, wanting to ignore the pity that would soon be passed onto him. Rabbitstorm came over as the mates began to take the elder out of the den. He moved to Smokesnout's free side, helping Shadowfang carry his father. The three warriors emerged into the windy Leaf-bare evening, placing Smokesnout's body in the center of camp. Here he would have an easier time traveling to Starclan, and here the rest of the clan could come to properly say goodbye.

"I should tell my dad," Shadowfang realized. "Im not sure if he'll come out right away, though. Pigeon's isn't doing well... But, I know him. He'll at least want to send Smokesnout off with a prayer." With his reasoning voice, the sleek black tom turned, stalking to the elder's den.

"I'll go inform the medicine cats," Rabbitstorm decided, heading off in the opposite direction.

Swiftcloud sat alone in the cold empty clearing, awaiting the arrival of others. She stood there, in the whistling wind, staring at the body in front of her. Smokesnout's fur ruffled in the breeze, the only movement to come from the elderly tom. Shadowfang had made sure to lay him down nicely. The old tom appeared as though he had fallen asleep. It was almost eerie.

This was the first casualty of many to come, Swiftcloud realized. The knowledge of that filled her with a terrible sense of dread. She knew things would only get worse from here on. And yet, there was still a small glimmer of hope left inside of her. The gathering would be soon. Maybe Grassclan could ask for prey and herbs from some of the others. The chances were slim, Swiftcloud knew, but she had to keep her chin up. If she gave up hope now, what else would she have?

#warrior cats #wcs #warrior cat ocs #wc ocs #Signs of the Moon: Moon Rise #Moon Rise #Chapter 39

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thatmultifandomhoe · 6 years ago

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Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 17

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 1,921

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: None

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

Sitting in your American Literature class, you smiled as the professor bounced around. Not literally of course, figuratively. It was refreshing to see someone that was so passionate about the subject they taught, which in turned helped him to engage his class with the day’s lesson and his students actually learned from him.

It was a win-win situation.

But your mind was far from the Literature class that you loved. Not only was it early – eleven in the morning – but your thoughts were centered around two things. Obtaining another cup of coffee, and Hoseok. More specifically, the way that he used his hands and mouth on you last night.

Hoseok had been more affectionate these last few days, even more so than usual. At first, you thought it was because he felt bad about the decision to keep your relationship a secret from Sue. You figured that this was his way of trying to make it up to you somehow, even though you were the one to suggest it.

He was already a cuddly person, but he acted as if each touch and kiss was the last. It started from the minute he woke up and lasted until you fell asleep. On a normal day, you typically didn’t see him in the morning because he went into work earlier than you unless it was day off. But lately, you’ve been waking up to him nuzzling and kissing your neck and shoulders, and most importantly, your neck. He always apologized, but the second he kissed your lips, it was like a surge of electricity traveled between the two of you. Hands would roam, the bedroom would suddenly get hotter, and it was all too easy to forgive him and get lost in each other before the day began.

Then it wasn’t just happening in the morning.

Even when you were trying to work on homework or was attempting to relax on the couch, curled up into his side. He was like a starved man at times. A starved horny man in fact. Trying to sleep at night seemed to be the worst though.

The two of you slept together in your bedroom now. After that first morning, you told Hoseok that if he wanted to move his things into your room that he was more than welcome to do so. So that night, when you were getting ready for bed that night and he followed you to your bedroom, butterflies had been flying in your stomach.

But now, he could barely keep his hands to himself. Although you made it clear that you couldn’t have sex every night, he was having a hard time controlling himself despite respecting your wishes. A simple goodnight kiss was turning into a twenty minute make out session that left your skin littered with hickey, various articles of clothing thrown on the floor. Somehow, he kept to his promise there was no sex, but now both of you were left sexually frustrated.

“Class ended you know.”

Jumping in your seat, you looked to the seat to the left of you to see Johnny, thus breaking your train of thoughts. He raised an eyebrow and pointed at the clock. “Come on, what’s gotten…” his words faded out as he looked back at you, his nostrils flaring as he swallowed. “Oh God. Tell me you’re not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”

You tilted your head, confused as you started to pack up. “W-what are you talking about?” Slinging your bag on your shoulder, you reached up to casually scratch the underside of your jaw, trying to avoid his gaze. Considering that your thoughts weren’t exactly rated pg-13, you weren’t too keen on admitting them.

Johnny took another deep breath, his eyes darkening. “I can’t believe you.” He didn’t say another word as he hurried with his own bag and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you out of the class with an iron grip. He didn’t stop there. No, he led you out of the building and headed straight to the parking lot for students. You couldn’t even put on your hat because he was moving so fast. With his free hand, he pulled out his keys and hit a button, making the lights of a small grey car light up. He wasn’t wasting any time.

“Johnny, what the hell has gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

His blunt answer surprised you. While he was always straight to the point, this time it felt like he was disciplining a child. Keeping his word, he turned his gaze on you once the two of you were safe in his car and the doors were locked. “You do realize that as a hybrid, with our enhanced sense of smell, we can smell when a person is aroused.”

Your eyes widened in shock, shaking your head. “I’m…I’m not aroused.”

“Really now?” Johnny crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against his seat, his nose scrunching up every now and then. His eyes were still darker than you were used to seeing on him, the pheromones you were unknowingly giving off affecting him. “Okay, tell me what you were thinking about then.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Johnny, no.”

“Are you forgetting that you helped me through my heat? Honey, I know what you smell like when you’re horny. And so won’t every other hybrid on this campus if you head back out there right now.”

Feeling like your back was against a wall, you sighed. You weren’t even sure why you were getting so defensive. Johnny was a great friend and you trusted him. He helped you with Hoseok once before, maybe he might have an idea as to what was going on this time. “I was thinking about Hoseok,” you finally murmured, knowing he heard you perfectly. “He’s been…acting strange.”

Johnny frowned, but waved his hand. “Okay. Weird how?”

You squirmed in your seat, slipping the gloves off your hands. “He’s been so touchy lately. It’s like every time we kiss, he can’t control himself and it leads to more.” Sighing, you tugged at the scarf that you had left wrapped around your neck, taking it off so Johnny could see the hickeys that Hoseok had left the night before. “He’s not forcing me into anything, but he’s horny every day and night lately.”

It felt like you making this out to be all Hoseok’s fault, but it wasn’t. If you didn’t have anything to do, didn’t have work or school to worry about, you’d gladly crawl into his arms and let him have his way with you. But you had your responsibilities and he had his. When Johnny didn’t say anything, you glanced up at him.

He was biting back a smile, but when he saw the confused look on your face, he forced himself to not laugh like he wanted. “Honey,” he gently said. “Do you know when Hoseok’s last heat was?”

“I don’t know, why does that…oh.”

Oh.

Every hybrid went through a heat each month. Instead of there being a designated mating season, there was a period of time during each month where the hybrid experienced a need to mate and have offspring. It was different for every hybrid though. The duration, the intensity, it all depended on the individual. No two hybrids had the same heat and this was a result of their animal DNA being combined with their human DNA.

In a way, it was the hybrid equivalent of a woman’s period.

With modern medicine of course, scientists were able to create a pill that would suppress they hybrid’s need to mate. At first, everyone thought it was a great idea and gave it to their hybrids without a second thought. But as years went by, the side effects started to become noticeable. While it stopped their heats, the medication also messed with them internally, sometimes making the hybrid infertile or, they would still be fertile but instead of having a heat, they would be severely sick for that time period.

You had never asked Sue before, but since Hoseok came to stay with you, you never once saw him take any medication. Even if he did, it was always Advil and that was because he was sore from dance.

“God,” you breathed out. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Let me guess, you have heat ridden horny Hoseok at home?”

Narrowing your eyes at Johnny, the corner of your mouth twitched. It was a little funny if you thought about it. When it happened with Johnny, you knew exactly what was happening and he had just been freaking out. Hoseok on the other hand, he knew what was happening and was trying to take care of it himself, and you were blind as a bat to it.

“Thank you, Johnny,” you answered instead, sliding your gloves and scarf back on, this time taking the chance to add your hat on too.

His laughter filled the car as you got out, effectively ending when you shut the door. Your own car wasn’t too far away, and once you were inside, you sent Hoseok a text while waiting for the heat to warm up.

On my way home.

A minute later, it vibrated in your hand.

About that, I called out sick this morning. I’m not sure you’re gonna want to be around me.

You rolled your eyes, grinning as your thumbs ran over the keyboard.

I know. Your heat started, didn’t it?

How did you know?

Giggling, you shook your head.

You were pretty obvious. I’m coming home, all I can think about is you. I’ll be there soon.

Your phone didn’t beep with another text. Instead, it rang as Hoseok’s caller ID appeared. With a smile, you held it up to your ear and answered the call. “I’m in my car now. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Strawberry,” Hoseok said, his voice strained and catching your attention. It sounded like he was in pain. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, attempting to gather his thoughts. “Baby, I won’t be able to control myself. It’ll be different from the other times. And I’ll…I’ll want to mark you. And if I do that, that means our scents will be intertwined and you won’t be romantically attracted to other people…”

“And it means I’ve accepted you as my mate,” you gently interrupted. Inside your chest, your heart was racing. Even now when he was obviously having a hard time controlling his hybrid side, he was still thinking about you. He was still giving you the option to leave if you wanted. To stop this before it got too serious. “Hoseok, I’ve accepted you since the night we kissed. But honestly, I’ve been wanting to be with you for a long time. It just took you moving in with me to realize that.”

His line was silent except for his shaky breathing. You wondered what he was thinking, wanting to know what he thought about what you just said.

“My heat takes three days,” he warned. “And baby, I’m a dog hybrid. It’s gonna be rougher.”

“I know.”

“It’ll be nothing like what that ferret did.”

You chuckled, glancing out the window to see other cars leaving the parking lot as well. “Good. Because you’re gonna mark me.”

Hoseok released a low growl and you closed your eyes, heart thumping in your chest. It was just a phone call but your body was already reacting to his voice.

“Hurry home baby. Please.”

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maiaisbia · 5 years ago

Text

it'll be okay (one day at a time)

Ragnor asks Magnus to rescue a young warlock just coming into their powers.

Tags: Rescue, Comfort/Angst, Character Study, Protective Magnus Bane, Pre-CanonImplied/Referenced Child Abuse, Hopeful Ending, POV Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane is Good With Kids, Ragnor Fell is a Good Friend

Teen | Words: 2614 | ao3

Magnus cursed, breathing heavily as he scrambled to grip the ledge of the windowsill, ducking out of sight. He knew the little warlock was inside this house somewhere, and that they needed to be saved. Ragnor had gotten the tip because of his new, fancy role as High Warlock of London, but had been too busy to check it out. Magnus had been relatively free, though he wished he wasn't dressed for a night out on the town.

The light passed out of sight of the window, and Magnus lifted himself up to see the servant was gone. Unlocking the window with a simple spell, Magnus dropped to the floor. All around him were the heads of animals from across the British Empire. Magnus almost wished he knew enough necromancy to bring them back to life and send them on the master of the house.

Because Magnus had a good idea of where he would find this kid, and in what state. It was hard to keep his breathing even and quiet. He hoped everyone would stay out of his way, because he was not in the mood to be merciful.

Magnus reached out with his magic, trying to find where the child was. He sensed a room nearby that had a lingering magical signature. Walking to it and murmuring a spell to silence his footfalls, Magnus found the child's room. It was thrown apart, but there were plenty of toys that Magnus could use to track with. It wasn't the room of an heir to the great estate, destined to parliament and all that rot. But it was once that of a loved child. Magnus picked up a little porcelain doll whose face had chipped off. Clutching the doll tight, he focused, reaching out once more into the house.

There! The basement, of course. Magnus fixed the doll, and tucked it in his coat pocket. He snagged a book and a few other trinkets. They were the child's after all. He paused, turning once more to find a coat and a blanket. It was cold out, and Magnus knew he would need to beat a hasty retreat once they got out of there.

The tracking spell guiding him, Magnus made his way down the spiral staircase and then through the servant halls and stairs. It was one of those houses made to hide the staff as much as possible. It helped Magnus in this case, keeping him out of sight.

The basement was damp and cold. Magnus hurried to where the child was. It looked like a cell, and Magnus hated to think why such a thing was in this house to begin with. It was obviously not a new addition. Opening the door, he saw the little one was curled in the corner. Their bat wings, what must have been their mark, were wrapped around them, but still they were shivering. They flinched away when Magnus came in.

He knelt in front of them. "I'm here to save you," Magnus whispered, holding out the blanket. "We're going to go where no one can hurt you again."

When the little one peaked up at him, Magnus let his glamour down so his cat eyes showed. The child flinched away, but then moved closer, wings folding against their back.

"I'm like you," Magnus said. He looked around the cell. It was clear that the child hadn't used their powers to try and escape. They must have just been coming into them. "I'm going to pick you up, if that's okay?"

The child nodded, and Magnus wrapped them in the blanket. It was clear that the jacket wouldn't fit now that their mark had come in. Nothing Magnus' tailor couldn't handle later.

"Here, I found your doll," Magnus dug his free hand into a pocket, pulling out the toy. The kid clutched it tight, pulling the toy to their chest, before resting their head on Magnus' shoulder.

Once he was sure he had a secure hold on the kid, Magnus booked it. He wished he and Henry had made better progress on their new idea for a spell to create portals. Instead Magnus had to navigate his way through the house once more, with the extra complication of holding a very scared child.

They didn’t make a sound, just pressed close and held on. Magnus could feel the way they shook though, from cold and fear and probably pain. Magnus had to keep in control, though he felt his magic leaping within him. It wanted to burn this home to the ground, killing every person who had participated or turned a blind eye to the hurting of this child. It was hard as of late not to give in to the rage that his despair turned to. But he couldn’t cause more hurt to this child. He needed to be the one that put an end to that hurt, and the best way to do that was to get the hell out of here.

He found a servant’s entrance and unlocked it with ease. There was a man in shirt sleeves leaning beside it smoking, and he jumped when Magnus appeared. Magnus snapped his fingers, sending the mundane to sleep before running onwards. Settling a glamour over himself and the child so no mundanes could see them, Magnus hurried to Ragnor’s home.

.-.-.-.

“I wish Catarina was here, maybe she could tell us what’s wrong with the child,” Ragnor sighed. They had managed to get the child into new clothes, fed them, and cleaned them with some magic. They had healed any visible wounds but the little one wouldn’t stop shaking and hadn’t said a word when Magnus had settled them in a guest room.

“Could they be mute?” Magnus asked, grabbing a rum bottle and splashing it into his tea cup. He winced at the taste though, feeling sick, and put it down.

“That was not the intelligence I had,” Ragnor said, sitting beside Magnus. They were in his parlor, which was really an extension of his library. The warm fireplace made the gliding of book titles flash like captured sunlight. It was one of Magnus’ favorite places to be and he wished he could enjoy it. “If they can’t speak now, it would be a new development.”

Magnus swallowed, eyeing the rum again. His stomach roiled in protest. He was going to have to say this sober then. “When I... after what happened with my mother and step-father... I didn’t talk for a very long time. The shadowhunters that found me on the streets thought I was just being insolent, and would hit me to try and get me to speak.”

Even though Magnus tried to keep himself distant from what he was saying, he still felt the words choking him. Ragnor didn’t look at him as he talked, but a hand settled on his own. Magnus almost shook it off, but instead turned his so he could hold Ragnor’s back.

“It’s probably shock, or fear,” Magnus finished, not wanting to talk further about himself. “We just need to earn their trust, and hopefully they will speak to us.”

Ragnor nodded. “Thank you, my friend, for doing this. For rescuing them. I feel now it might have been unfair.”

Magnus gave a single, bitter laugh, but it was better than the sob he felt building. “It wouldn’t have been fair to most of the others you could have asked.”

“I should have done it,” Ragnor cursed, standing up, still connected to Magnus by their joined hands.

“And leave the mermaid ambassador’s requested meeting? No, we don’t need to cause such offense,” Magnus assured. “You know I’m always happy to help.”

“I do,” Ragnor said, turning to look down at him. “And that worries me sometimes. Magnus, when have you last asked for help yourself?”

Magnus looked away, focusing on the flames of the fire instead. He gripped Ragnor’s hand a little tighter. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Damn it, Magnus,” Ragnor tugged back. “Please tell me what I can do.”

Magnus shook his head, blinking quickly. “Let me stay here and help with this little one?”

“That sounds like you helping others...”

“I can’t be in my house,” Magnus admitted, though the words were sharp enough to cut his tongue. He glanced up at Ragnor, then quickly away again.

“She’s gone again,” Ragnor guessed, crouching into Magnus’ line of sight.

Magnus scoffed, more at himself than his love life. “Camille’s on a “trip,” yes.”

Ragnor scowled. “Magnus she’s...”

“I know, I know!” he snapped back. He moved to stand but collapsed to his knees, the truth he knew too heavy for him. Ragnor reached out, pulling him close, holding him tight. And that did it, Magnus couldn’t hold back anymore. His tears fell, and the sob escaped, followed by many more. He felt he couldn’t breath with the force of them, and he was hardly aware of Ragnor’s hand, rubbing his back. “I know,” he choked.

Magnus didn’t know when he was able to stop, just knew that Ragnor had sat and he was curled against his oldest friend’s chest.

“Forget about Camille,” Ragnor murmured.

“Let me stay,” Magnus croaked. “I can’t be alone.”

“Of course,” Ragnor said. “And I could use the help with the kid. You know I’m not... the best with them.”

Magnus nodded, relief spreading through him. “Okay.”

“Now, let’s get us both to bed, hmm?”

Magnus stood, and held out a hand to assist Ragnor. Ragnor accepted and they didn’t even have to say a word as Magnus followed Ragnor. Changing into a sleeping gown with a snap of his fingers, Magnus curled up on one side of Ragnor’s huge bed. Listening to Ragnor’s steady breathing beside him helped lull him to sleep. His first dreamless night in many weeks.

.-.-.-.

When Magnus was woken, it couldn’t have been the grey London morning filtering through the curtains. His eyes were drawn down as a shadow fell over him. The little child had found their way into the room, their wings stretched now above them. Their eyes were wide and they were holding the doll close.

Magnus pushed himself up, slowly so that he wouldn’t startle the kid. “Good morning,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t see their body shaking how it had been.

The little one just blinked back.

Magnus slipped from the bed, summoning a robe. The child’s eyes went wider and their mouth opened in a gasp. Magnus realized then that he and Ragnor had been fools. They just needed to use their powers, big and flashy, around the kid. That way they would know they were safe. That they were not alone

Magnus tied the warm robe around him, then conjured a little version. He held it out to the child. They pass him their doll so they could put it on over their nightshirt.

“Does your doll want a robe too?” Magnus whispered.

“Sarah,” the voice was so soft, Magnus almost didn’t hear it.

He knelt, holding out the doll. “The doll’s name is Sarah?”

He got a nod for that.

“Nice to meet you Sarah,” Magnus said, turning the doll to face him. Then he wiggled the fingers of his free hand to make another robe appear, this one the perfect size for the doll. He handed both over to the child.

“Thank you,” the child whispered, then carefully put the doll’s arms through the robe.

“What’s your name?” Magnus asked, hoping maybe with the focus on the doll that it would easier for them to talk.

“Mel,” was the whispered answer.

“That’s a very nice name,” Magnus said. “I’m Magnus, in case you don’t remember.”

Mel nodded, holding the doll close again.

“Are you and Sarah hungry?” Magnus asked.

“Sarah is,” Mel answered, voice a little stronger.

“Let’s get her some food, and maybe you can help her eat it,” Magnus stood, and held out a hand to Mel. They looked at the hand, before taking it. So small, Magnus couldn’t help but think. So small to have suffered as they had.

He set them all up in the parlor, using more magic than he usually would. He made the fire, conjuring the wood and lighting it. He summoned the food after ringing the bell. Ragnor had one servant, a mundane woman with the Sight who did his cooking. The bell rang when it was ready, letting Magnus know to get it. There was plenty of toast and sweet jams, eggs and tea. Magnus put lots of milk and honey in “Sarah’s” tea, which Mel drank. Mel also ate all of Sarah’s food, but giggled whenever Magnus addressed the doll to ask if she wanted more. Magnus had everything spread out on a blanket, as if they were having a picnic.

Ragnor found them, smiling as Magnus passed him a plate he’d kept warm with magic. Ragnor summoned his paper, his glamour fully down. Mel watched him with wide eyes, but they hadn’t started shaking again.

“Ragnor, this is Mel and Sarah,” Magnus said, gesturing. “Mel and Sarah, this is my dear friend, Ragnor Fell. He’s the High Warlock of London.”

Mel’s eyes went wider again, if possible. “Magic,” they whispered.

Ragnor smiled, setting the paper aside for later and resting his elbows on his knees. “Yes my dear. I am a warlock, like you are and like Magnus here is. We all have magic, which I think makes us rather fantastic.”

Mel smiled, nodding. “I like magic.”

“Good news!” Ragnor encouraged. “Magnus and I can give you lessons, if you want to know more magic?”

“It’s not bad?” Mel asked, and their face became pinched. Magnus had no idea what they had been told, when they were locked away. Mel was showing great improvement already, but he knew that Mel would probably have days of silence, would probably flinch away from friendly touches. He looked at them, and assured, “Magic is wonderful. You can help people with magic, and helping people is good, right?”

Mel nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Magnus warmed their tea and added a bit more honey.

“You can stay with Magnus and I for as long as you want,” Ragnor said. “But we can also help find you a new home, and family.”

Mel shrunk in on themself at that.

Magnus shot Ragnor a look, then turned a smile to Mel. “But that’s a long ways away. Right now, we’re just going to take one day at a time, how about that?”

Mel blinked, and looked at Sarah. Magnus looked at Sarah too. Mel made Sarah nod her head.

“Wonderful!” Magnus smiled. “After this breakfast picnic, do you want to explore the house? Ragnor has some meetings, so we can find all the rooms in the house while he does those.”

Ragnor nodded, flicking open the paper. It hovered in front of him, leaving his hands free to drink his tea and eat his breakfast. “My first meeting is in an hour.”

“Sarah would like to explore,” Mel said, after tipping their head as if to listen to the doll.

“Maybe play hide and seek too?” Magnus asked, raising an eyebrow.

This got another smile from Mel. Each one was a little bigger. “Yes, please.”

Magnus thought that, with Ragnor and Mel, he’d be okay. He just hoped Mel felt the same way. He and Ragnor were pretty odd fairy-god-uncles. But as Mel smiled, and sipped more of their tea, watching closely as Ragnor turned the pages of the paper with magic, Magnus thought that might just be perfect for them right now.

Together, they would make it. One day at a time.

#magnus bane #ragnor fell #warlock oc #my fic #Content warnings for: child abuse (experienced off screen by warlock child OC and references to Magnus' past)#mention of Camille's emotional abuse and some depiction of depression (Magnus isn't in a good place).

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luckydecay · 5 years ago

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A sneak peak of a Reddie fic I have been working on....

... He’d known by that point that he was head over heels for the fanny pack wearing hypochondriac, and on some days he thought maybe Eddie felt the same way. But anxieties and insecurities and a constant hot and cold relationship made it impossible to bridge the gap, so Richie never acted on it. On the days he felt really confident he thought maybe he could. Other days his mind was in a constant whirl of what-if’s and the possibility of a negative reaction was enough to make Richie lose his appetite for a week until the spiral of negative thoughts pushed him so far down that he could slowly make it back to the surface.

That night at Homecoming had been different.

Something was in the air and the off feeling he’d been experiencing more and more recently was flaring up again. He didn’t have a name for it, but it always came like a wave. His spine would tense up and his stomach would feel like it were dropping out of his body. His jittery, ADHD-addled brain would rear into overdrive, making him feel so on-edge and unfocused that if he didn’t somehow get the unknown thing out of his system, he might actually short-circuit and die.

Watching Eddie dance with the cute girls who liked clean-cut boys wasn’t what had him on edge. They’d been to parties before and Eddie had danced with a pretty girl before after getting over his phobia of touching new people. Richie never cared before, because half the time they were all shitfaced anyway and Eddie always looked so nervous and meek that all Richie could ever think was ‘cute, cute, cute’ as he would watch him.

Homecoming had been different. Eddie was sober and he’d had a date. A real date, someone he actually went and picked up and was sober to dance with. Someone who looked at him all shy like and batted pretty eyelashes at him, even though they were the same fucking height because Eddie was, what Richie lovingly called ‘pocket sized’. He looked so fucking cute in his suit.

And it had made Richie’s skin feel like it were on fire, watching him hold his date’s hand and laugh whenever he would lean in to her ear to hear whatever she had to say.

It shouldn’t have bothered him so much, but it did.

So Richie did what Richie did best: acted as obnoxious as fucking possible.

He’d got himself tipsy enough on spiked punch to approach them, despite Bev’s attempt at an interception. He’d thrown his arm around Eddie’s neck right as the music began to change into something slow, breaking him and his date apart.

“Eddie Spaghetti! I almost didn’t know which of you was the girl, you’re looking so damn pretty. Say, how’d you manage to find someone shorter than you, anyway?”

He’d gone on to insult his tie, his suit, his hair, his dance skills, then topped it off with a, ‘I should go find my date, she’s probably still over by the snack table. Say, do you think your mom will let me get to third base after the dance?’

His mouth ran a mile a minute, rapid-firing insult after insult and loving every second of the way Eddie told him to fuck off by firing back at him at every step. That was their thing. Eddie knew Richie meant no real harm and Richie knew that Eddie could take everything he could dish out and then some, all the while giving it back to him two-fold. That was what made them so good together. That was why they were so clearly perfect as a pair.

But it wasn’t Eddie that told him to fuck off. It was his date, a girl named Betty Ripsom who had been watching with narrowed eyes, who quite suddenly literally shoved Richie away, causing him to stumble.

‘You’re trash,’ she’d spat, pulling Eddie by the arm away from Richie. ‘Away from him. Away from him. Away from him. ’He doesn’t want you around,’ she’d said. ‘Seriously, Tozier, get lost for once.’ There had something about the motion, paired with her mocking gaze and Eddie’s lack of reaction, clearly in shock at what she’d just done that made the playful smile on Richie’s face disappear. Something that made his stomach feel sick and his chest feel tight enough the he was pretty fucking sure something had invaded his body and was squeezing his heart until it splattered.

You’re trash, she’d said, and for the first time, Richie actually believed it.

He’d fucked off after that, without a response. Eddie had looked back at him only once as Betty pulled him further on the dance floor, leaving Richie standing there as like a fucking idiot while Bonnie Tyler began cooing ‘Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming around.’ Fuck that shit. That was how he’d found himself sucking down that cigarette with shaking hands, trying to block out the wails of, ‘and I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever’ from beyond the gymnasium doors.

#idk guys this maybe won't even leave my google drive #reddie #my writing #my fic

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littlemeowmeowschimmy · 6 years ago

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Play With Me [Jungkook x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list - next

Genre: Thrilling // Mysterious // Smut [later]

Summary: After a fateful night, Jungkook realizes that he was put up against something more dangerous than he imagined. He never thought that through his undercover work that you were much more than just cunning, you were also seductive.

Word C: 3278

A/N: I’m in love with anything and everything Batman related. It’s another one of my passions outside of BTS. If I’m being honest, I really hope y’all enjoy this mini series I’m putting out. I also apologize for any of the references that are made and people don’t understand them. If you are a long time Batman fan, you will realize that I made a few small changes here and there. Mostly to fit the boys as I didn’t want to change their genders. With that being said, enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

Nighttime was his favorite. He could reflect on the previous day, then place a mask over his eyes and go undercover. Since parting ways with old bats, Jungkook knew situations would be difficult. He had grown up under his wing, then, flew away (no pun intended). He learned everything from Seokjin, as it shaped him who he was today.

Now, all he did was detective work and then fighting crime on the side. Jungkook’s legs dangled off the side of a building, his hands gently turning the pages. He was helping Seokjin on a case, one about a mysterious woman. He had heard very little concerning her. Only snippets of what she had done, such as small bank robberies, putting a few people in hospitals, the usual.

“Maybe you should stop looking at the files,” Jimin’s condescending voice spoke. “And start scouting like the rest of us Kook.” he finishes sneering afterwards. Not only did he have to team up with Seokjin, but he had to team up with the man-child named Park Jimin. He had come into Seokjin’s life a few years after Jungkook left, only to be killed by Joker. He was resurrected by the Lazarus pit, only to become insane after.

His death hit Seokjin hard because Jimin was like a son to him. They all were. The family suffered greatly, their wounds healing only to be torn apart. Since his marbles were somewhat back in place, Jimin had become a real pain in the ass. He was seeking revenge, murder, and doing other villainous deeds. Old bats didn’t have it in him to take Jimin in, to Arkham that is.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, then slowly moving himself up. Another voice pops in, this one sending a small smile on his face. “Jimin, we get that you’re fast,” Yoongi mumbles the quick typing of his keys in the background. “However, Kook does what he does best.” pausing then continuing. “Research. Unlike your head ass who jumps into everything.”

“Because who cares about intel.” Jimin puffs clearly Yoongi’s blunt attitude hitting Jimin’s pride. “Little bitch has been fucking me over. I need to get her back.”

“You need to listen dumbass.” Yoongi snaps twirling around in his wheelchair, scooting himself over to his other computer. Yoongi was known as Oracle to the outsiders. He was quick with his fingers and had all of Gotham under his surveillance. He got into a freak accident with Joker, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. His father, Gordon, was captured by Joker try and break him. Thankfully, Seokjin made it in time to save him, but it wasn’t enough for Yoongi.

“Woah guys,” Namjoon speaking softly, the wind making it harder for them to hear. Namjoon was like the brains of the family per-say. He knew everything about Seokjin and Jungkook, making it easier for him to find the Bat-Cave. Letting him join the family was amusing to say the least. Jungkook enjoyed him, more than he thought he would. Namjoon was very level headed and he often agreed with Jungkook on things. “We get that you two love birds had a fight but calm down.” he starts fixing his headgear.

“Shut up!” Yoongi and Jimin hiss, a low chuckle escaping the back of Jungkook’s throat.

“And this is why I wished father would let me go on my own.” Taehyung grumbles. Out of all of them, Taehyung was the only one related to Seokjin. Long story short, his mother got pregnant after seducing Seokjin. How Jungkook and Taehyung met was another story for another day.

“The last time you went on your own,” Jungkook starts setting the files down, scanning the area afterwards. “You almost killed a man.” pausing then shaking his head. “Why do you think Seokjin doesn’t trust you alone?”

“I was born and raised to kill.” Taehyung simply states landing besides Jungkook seconds later. He didn’t bat an eye, only reached his arm out to hand the files towards him. Much like Jungkook, Taehyung liked to get information on people. He remembers watching the little squirt in front of the huge computer reading up on everyone’s files. He was just as mysterious as the woman they were tracking down. “It’s in my genes.”

A collective sigh escaped everyone. This was something they heard on a daily, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear it again. Jungkook was pleasantly surprised when he was told to babysit. It seemed as if Seokjin was out looking for new gear. Hoseok, their butler, stayed back. Often watching and listening on the computer in the cave.

The only sound that buzzed in their ears was, Yoongi’s fingers dashing across his keys. Their mission was to capture her, make her talk, then send her to Arkham. It was proving to be a difficult task because she worked so quickly. Even Seokjin fought her, only to be stabbed in the side, then gone unconscious due to the poison that entered his system.

“Jimin, on your right.” Yoongi spoke his eyes scanning across his screen. It seemed he found a lead, sending Jimin in. He was the closet, making it a great decision. Jungkook was given the file back, pushing it away, then peering off the side. He listened to their conversation, seeing if he could pop in at any time.

“I’m coming up behind you Jimin,” Namjoon declares, the skidding of his bike causing Jungkook to wince. He turns towards Taehyung, nodding his head, silently telling him to jump. They found their target, each of them moving in one by one. Yoongi was giving them directions, each to split up and attack on all sides.

They would come to find, that wouldn’t be the best idea that evening...

»»————-　★　————-««

Right foot

Left foot

Right foot

Left foot

Jungkook kept telling himself that simple pattern. He was sneaking in after landing on top of the warehouse. His weapons on his back, itching to be used. His eyes searching constantly, trying to make sure he was alone. Yoongi notified him that he was clear, but there was something that wasn’t sitting well in his stomach.

A loud crash came from below, Jungkook’s heart racing. He heard fighting through his earpiece. It only made him assume that someone caught the boys. Jimin went in first, scouting the place and calling it clear. Then, Taehyung came from behind, whilst Namjoon to the side. It was from Taehyung’s end that the crash sounded. Leaving the rest to scan and be on their toes.

“Well done,” a hushed congratulations followed by light clapping came from behind Jungkook. He spun, only to be greeted by the moonlight. A shadow peaked from behind a small column, your figure leaning against it. This was the first time he saw you face to face.

The moon hitting your back, your lush hair flowing in the small breeze. Behind your mask, Jungkook noticed your sparked eyes. In them, he could tell that you were amused, enjoying yourself, and much more. Slowly, you moved inwards, the moon lighting you further. Showing the tight fabric, hugging your curves, illuminating every part of you. Around your waist a belt hung, holding every weapon you could ever need.

“You found me~” You sang bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your body bends forwards, waggling your finger in Jungkook’s direction. He was quick to bring his hand back, only to feel a sharp pain in his wrist. His cane clanking on the ground. From far away, you had managed to knock his wrist back with your throwing star.

The tool lodging itself in a nearby crate, the moon’s light radiating off. “Atata~” you mock waggling another finger in his direction. “That won’t be necessary. I just want to have a discussion with the big bad wolf~” a playful smile spreading, your body skipping towards Jungkook.

His eyes narrow, dodging back and forth between your figure and his weapon. He had to quickly decide, the noise in his earpiece still loud. He knew his brothers were in trouble, but he also knew that you were right in front of him. Seokjin always taught him that family came first, but he knew that they would be able to take care of themselves. He had to finish the mission.

“Talk.” Jungkook demands straightening himself, his guard up still. You purred, that low sound emanating from the back of your throat. You paused in front of him, a hip popped out and arms folded across your chest. Your index finger rested gently on your upper lip, that sick smile making Jungkook’s stomach clench.

“I want to make a deal.”

“Criminals only make one when they know they’re about to get caught.” Jungkook snaps, eyes narrowed and dark. You squeal with delight, your hands clenching. The small outburst of excitement startled Jungkook.

“Oh, baby don’t talk to me like that~” You purred bringing a hand down to your chest. “You’re going to make me cum~” you tease Jungkook’s eyes rolling. He noticed that you were a masochist and a sadist...it said so in your file. Seokjin briefly described his fight, often stating that you loved watching him go down in pain, only to moan when he hit you. He wrapped you up as insane, the thought alone sending a deep and growing pit in his stomach.

“Enough with the childish games’ L/n,” Jungkook hisses, arms tightening as he was getting impatient. You took another step forward, reaching in and curling your fingers under his chin. He smacks them away, not at all interested in your childish games. You tut again, leaning in now to make sure your face was close to his.

“I would have so much fun with you.” a darkness to your tone sending chills through Jungkook’s body. “Just thinking about making you beg for mercy is getting me hot.” tilting your head just a bit, your tongue poking out to swipe across your bottom lip. Straightening out, you brushed your hands down your chest. It was your attempts to get yourself back to normal, but you weren’t normal to begin with.

“If you let me go tonight,” you start taking a step backwards. “Your family won’t die.” a threat hanging in the air. This time, Jungkook takes a step forward. In doing so, he swiftly picks up his cane, placing it back in its holder. He leans downwards, making sure he was eye level with you.

“If you do,” he starts tilting his head to the side. “I will hunt you down to the ends of this earth,” your heart thudding in your chest as your body melts at his threats. “And rip you limb by limb.” a soft moan escaping your lips, your body quaking with lust. Jungkook noticed you didn’t take this to heart because he saw how you acted.

He noted your movements, watching you close your eyes in bliss. It seemed like you were trying to figure out the next words, but they weren’t coming. Instead, Jungkook was surprised. His back hit the concreate, a puff of air escaping once you landed on his waist. You held his arms up with one hand, your fingers tightening around his wrist.

You had him in a position where he couldn’t get out without force. This brought your face closer in, the moonlight making your next expression frightening. You widen a smile, eyes crinkling and drool forming on the right side. You brought a hand back, pulling out one of your colorful knives to place on his cheek. The tip dug in, some blood escaping.

Jungkook winces, trying not to tilt his head away. He knew you were trying to scare him, the tacit making his heart pounding against his ribs. What you did next sent another wave of chills down his spine. You licked his cheek, your breath hitting his skin. Jungkook twitches, clearly uncomfortable. “I think,” you pause giggling now. “I think you and I are going to have lots of fun later.” you whispered.

Those words ringing as Jungkook remembers Seokjin speaking of the same sentence. It was right before you fled, the before the poison kicked in. It left Jungkook pondering if you had done the same, but you never got into a fight with him. You were holding him down, acting upon you small threat in the beginning.

“Not when you’re behind bars.” he threats attempting to knock you over. Only to receive a tighter grip on his wrists. Your body applying more weight, making it difficult to move. Your head perks when you notice a spinning star flash before your eyes. This was a distraction; someone had found you on the roof. Your head instantly moves back, your grip loosening on Jungkook.

He took this opportunity to wrestle you, trying to get the upper hand. It proved that you were more skilled than you looked. Your legs coming under his torso and kicking him off. Sending Jungkook backwards whilst he hears Jimin growling in the distance. You turned to lock eye contact with the agitated one, another playful smile.

“Red Hood~ what a pleasant surprise.” You teased rolling back onto your feet.

“I’ve got you now bitch.” He lunges, Jungkook screaming at him not to. You did a few back flips, avoiding his punches. One of your kicks landed under his chin, sending Jimin backwards. Jungkook came behind, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his body to his chest. Both men watch as you waved at them, standing on the edge of the roof top.

“Au revior~” flipping off the ledge and disappearing into the night.

»»————-　★　————-««

“I could’ve had her you punk!” Jimin screeches standing with an ice pack to his head. They all reported back to base, your picture in the middle of the computer screen. Hoseok was attending to Taehyung’s wounds, the little one mumbling under his breath. Namjoon was looking at the file once again, trying to see if there was anything he missed.

Yoongi wheeled himself directly besides Seokjin, showing him the camera footage. Jungkook was during an argument with Jimin. Since they had to retreat, Jimin had been extremely grumpy. He didn’t like having to run away, nor did he like having to admit defeat. It was only a matter of seconds that he was going to explode in the cave.

“Oh, give it a rest Jimin.” Jungkook sighs hearing enough of his complaints. He pushes himself off the staircase, moving over towards the computer. There he sat down, typing his password in then selecting other files. He scans through them, much like Namjoon was, trying to figure out what they missed. Since getting back, Taehyung revealed that they found multiple C4′s in the basement. They seemed to be hooked up to a wire but were eventually disabled because of his quick thinking.

Namjoon was stuck in the lounge, getting as much evidence as he could. The warehouse was abandoned, but it seemed like it was set up for an event. What event, Namjoon never figured out. It was when Jimin came crashing in with Taehyung that they got into a fight. Somehow, Jimin escaped up to the roof where he threw his star in between you and Jungkook.

Then proceeded to blame himself, no blame Jungkook for letting you get away. He slams the ice pack down, crossing his arms afterwards. “We need to call Starfire and Roy.” he demands pointing at Seokjin who looked up from Yoongi’s computer screen. His eyebrow rose, interested in hearing what the man had to say.

“So, we can get more innocent lives involved?” Seokjin questions shaking his head. “We have enough men right here. We just need to find a weakness.”

“What weakness?!” Jimin growls throwing his hands up. “She’s just like Joker, but ruthless. Crazier even.” his hands raking through his messy hair. Jungkook fell silent, the previous fight still playing through his head. He had to agree with Jimin, you were just as bad as Joker. One could say that you were on Harley Quinn level, but that wouldn’t compare even.

Seokjin fell silent, his eyes narrowed as he was thinking of another point. Nothing came to anyone; they were all puzzled. “She’s hasn’t murdered anyone yet.” Taehyung points, grunting due to the needle poking in his flesh again. Hoseok questioned if he was alright, then quickly waving him off. Jungkook’s eyes move back to him, then right back to Jimin. Who evidently rolled his eyes and kicked the pack across the room

“More brute force, we need them.” Jimin insisted pushing off whatever he was leaning on. He moves forwards, making sure he was headed straight for Seokjin. Namjoon stopped him in the process, shaking his head and standing in between. He gently pushes on his chest, trying to get some space between the two. Since Jimin came back from the pit, he had a deep hatred for Seokjin. He had all his memories back, making the struggle to overcome such a horrible past more difficult than need be.

Making this set up difficult within itself. Seokjin knew not to test Jimin’s limits, but he knew that he needed him. This case seemed personal in small ways, mostly Jimin and Seokjin. Jungkook didn’t know what to make of it, instead he focused on the information they had now.

“If we go into this with anger,” Jungkook starts picking his eyes up from the screen. “We’re going to be completely useless.”

“Agreed.” Namjoon pipes taking a step to the side so Yoongi and Seokjin could lock contact with Jungkook.

“What do we do?” Jimin insisted.

“Go undercover.” Yoongi finishes turning his computer around to show the others what he found. When Jimin grumbled about not being able to see it, he glares at him. Slamming his computer shut, he gives it to Seokjin, turns around and wheels off to the big computer.

This causes Jungkook to quickly get himself out of his seat. Trying to avoid all possible confrontation. Yoongi quickly types his password, then opens the files he showed. Jungkook watches your figure move in and out of a building, your mask and gear off.

You looked normal, as if you were holding down an office job. “Her real name is Y/n,” Yoongi points out. “She works at the local police station.” his head turning to lock eye contact with Jungkook.

He narrows his eyes, placing his hands on his chest. “Wait a minute.” the pieces starting to fall into place. “You want me to go undercover?”

“No sherlock, we want Jimin.”

“Fuck off.” Jimin spat throwing the discarded pack at Yoongi’s head. He growls, spinning around in his wheelchair and sending a deadly look in his direction.

“Calm down children.” Namjoon spoke, both men glaring and growling in his direction. They weren’t pleased, Jungkook wouldn’t blame them.

Yoongi took another deep breath, then sighed. He spun back around, pulling up a few other frames of you. “You’re the only one,” he starts pulling up Jungkook’s old file. “Who used to work undercover for so long.” moving it upwards as he continues to show footage and other pictures of you rooming around and outside of the police station.

“We need you to infiltrate the station again.” Seokjin proclaims, moving himself up and closer. “Grab any and all information on this woman. Find her weakness so we can take her down.” Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows together then shakes his head. It had been years since he had gone undercover, the fact that they wanted him to do it again, was beyond him.

But he couldn’t say no. Jungkook had to take it. Whether he liked it or not...

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