#so i’ll just keep releasing chapters
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OH MY GORSHHHHHH! UR AO3 FIC LITERALLY GOT ME THROUGH THE CYCLONE AND I JUST FOUND OUT U HAVE TUMBLR SO HERE I AM! I LOVE UR FIC SM! THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS OFF THE FREAKING CHARTS AND SO IS THE WORLD BUILDING! I LOVE U SM AND HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GREAT DAY!
liar, liar masterlist here:
HEEEEYYYY OMG HIIIII <3333
GOT YOU THROUGH THE CYCLONE DKM PLSSS 😭💞 THAT’S SO FUNNY STOP HAHAHA
i love it when my ao3 readers travel to tumblr ‘cause it gets me so giddy like omg, the effort you put in just to talk to me? 🤭 stop i’m kicking my legs and giggling
AHHH I’M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY STORY SO FAR, IK IT SEEMS LIKE I SAY THAT A LOT (‘cause i do lolol) BUT I TRULY FEEL LIKE I’M FLOATING ON EARTH WHEN SOMEONE DROPS IN TO JUST LMK THEY’RE LIKING WHAT I WRITE 😭💜💗💘❤️💞💜
‘the character development is off the freaking charts’ — 🥹
‘and so is the world building’ — 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
that means the world to me and i’m jusy sosnsiwjsijeisjejd i’m overwhelmed and speechless sorryyy 😭💜
i hope your pillow’s cold on both sides and you never step on lego, ml 💞
#liar liar asks!#this was the sweetest thing ever#ugh forget studying atp i’ll do that tmr#gonna work on the next chapter now#this gave me the motivation i needed#TYYYYY <333#everyone thank seoups for her polite SHOVE that got me writing :)#i wish i could express how much it means to me but i literally can’t#so i’ll just keep releasing chapters#and hopefully my love for you seeps through in my writing <3#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold
#Seven.txt#writing stuff#thinking of that post that’s like ‘u Have To make art or all the ideas stay stuck in ur brain and make u sick’ bc yeah thats been the vibe#wish i wasn’t so all or nothing about it tho. but alas. i’m that way with everything in my life#i either expect 10k in a day from myself or i don’t write at all for weeks. or months :)#and my average pace is about 500 words per hour. so u can see. how that might be a problem. given how many hours are in a day.#and that’s obviously not sustainable. but idk if it’s adhd or what but it’s So hard to quickly start and stop tasks just Whenever#i struggle to be one of those ppl that can consistently write like. 500 words a day every day and then wow! soon you have a whole novel#nah. once i get myself in the Zone then i’m Goin’ and i can’t stop until i’m Done or i collapse from ignoring my body’s needs lmao#it’s something i should make an effort to do though bc i’d love to be consistently chipping away at things instead of working in bursts#anyways this is a lotta negative self-commentary for what is actually a Positive post! bc yay!! i wrote a thing!! Two things actually!!! 🎉#i got the follow-up to last year’s Matt oneshot done And i wrote the next chapter of Heaven in Hiding after uh. a year and some months#i wanted to blow the dust off the ol’ keyboard by starting with writing some less. uh. high-stakes(?) stuff#not that i didn’t put my all into writing them. i always do. just that ik they’ll have less of an audience so ill cringe less if they suck#so then i can hopefully do justice to the [N]MbD stuff that i’ll be putting out next! ehehe *rubbing my hands together* Finally#the next two [N]MbD fics r already written but the first little one needs a final edit#and then the Big one for. uh. someone (u kno who u r) needs a bit of rewriting i think. i wanna make it Better#so release schedule will be 1. Matt • 2. HiH Ch.3 • 3. [N]MbD small fic • 4. [N]MbD Big fic#then i’m gonna write a lil Boothill comfort oneshot. then i’ll edit/maybe rewrite and post that Dew (Ghost) OCD comfort oneshot#i also wanna keep writing the last couple chapters of HiH before i unintentionally abandon it again#and after/amidst all that maybe i’ll manage to get ES Ch.6 written and posted before the end of the year 😭#anyways ik i’ve made posts like this before. talking abt all these Plans of mine. and most of those things r Still stuck in the pipeline#so don’t put too much stock into this plan. i could have another Bad couple of months and get None of it done#but god i sure fucking hope not. i’d really like to cling to my creativity. if for no other reason than that it makes me happy
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Just found out if I stop stressing about “good” writing the fic will actually get written 27,000 dead 572,027,728 injured
#I HAVE NO MOUTH AND I MUST SCREAM !!#fr tho……. waiting for ao3 invite patiently……. and also staring at chapter…….#the bare bones is there it has a few things there i just need to actually finish the draft and then go over and then fix it up#AND WE’RE GOOD#also…… maybe might actually toy with the idea of mock up posters for each chapter especially since#i want each chapter to be pretty long minus the prologue and epilogue#so it’ll both be a nice reprieve from writing and will give me plenty of time to finish each one to be able to post them alongside each#chapter’s release#it also helps further hone my drawing skills especially if i go outside my comfort zone which I’ll have to for certain posters#so yippee i think!!#btw when i do get the invite regardless of whether i have anything posted or not i’ll be sure to link it here just in case anyone wants it#but do be sure to keep an eye out for the fic dropping………. i’m hoping by the end of the week?
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From Gold to Mold
Chapter 10: The Meeting
As the Megamycete watches as you stomp around your room and vent your frustrations about the last few days, it begins to wonder how the Bats came to remember their little black sheep and why they are so insistent you return to Gotham.
It searches through your memories and experiences all the sadness, fear, anger, hatred, and loneliness you experienced for years, all those emotions still so potent even after your departure from the manor four years ago, having been dredged up by their unwelcome visits. It was clear that, besides the butler, none of them considered you a part of their merry band of misfits, not even bothering to spare you a passing glance.
The exception to this is the youngest one, Damian, who constantly went out of his way to make your life harder by mocking you, hurting you, and releasing his menagerie of pets on you, forcing you to run through the endless halls of the mansion barricade yourself in the closest room you could find.
Now, after four years after your escape and maintaining little contact with the family butler, they show up on your door, one after the other, trying to force you to leave your perfect life for one that brought you nothing but pain and misery.
Why?
Why do they want you so much?
Why do they insist on you returning to a place you clearly hate?
Why do they now wish to give you the love they denied you for so long?
Why—
Wait, they are meeting in their little cave, gathering around the massive computer in the center of the massive cavern.
Its roots have long since surrounded the cave and it is still connected to the main colony back in Gotham, but when it took you as its host, it has had no need to tap into its roots to see the world above when it can see the world through your eyes and experience it through your senses.
Using its roots to see the outside world no longer has the same appeal when your senses are far more vibrant and provide far more detail.
When it proposed you become its host, it must admit, it never thought it would be so mutually beneficial. Of course, it would be able to leave the cavern and finally experience a world firsthand that had been forever just out of reach for over four-hundred years, but you would recover from your injuries and be akin to a god among men with your newfound abilities. You were the one who had more to gain from your joining, but it was willing to trade one prison for another if it meant finally seeing the world above and having someone to talk to.
But you proved it wrong.
When it became a part of you, you treated it like a person, not a thing. You value its input and alter your plans if it desires to see or experience something. You frequently talk to it, telling it things that you haven’t told anyone else and speaking to it like it was a lifelong friend.
It has no further use for that toxic city and its citizens when it has the warm haven of Goodsprings and you to keep it company.
It has come to admire you, even going as far as to see you as a friend and confidant, and wants nothing but the best for you as you so rightfully deserve and to see you suffer teaches it a new definition of rage.
“Running blood tests,” your failure of a father says as he types on the keyboard, causing a machine next to the massive device to make noises.
“If Master Y/N does test positive for the Meta Gene, what do you intend to do, Master Bruce,” the butler, the only one in this crowd it respects, asks.
“If Y/N is a meta, I’ll have to find out what his powers are and how to counter it.”
So that’s what this meeting is about, they managed to put the pieces together that you are no mere human. But how did they manage to get a sample of your blood? Since your joining, you have had no need for doctors as its influence makes you immune against common illnesses and diseases.
“Getting his blood was a simple task,” Damian taunts. “Honestly, this would have been solved already if you sent me, Father.”
Of course. It should have known the little menace gave up too easily.
While you hate Bruce Wayne in every sense of the word, Damian Wayne is right behind him. From the moment you met him, he went up of his way to make your life a living nightmare and was allowed to get away with impunity due to obvious favoritism from Dick Grayson.
The memory of Dick defending Damian after he gave you a scar made the Megamycete furious. No matter his upbringing, he had no right to harm you, and yet, he was allowed to draw his sword on you. It was only pure luck that you managed to move to avoid being critically wounded, only resulting in a scar.
The Megamycete has seen your many fantasies of hurting Damian and making him feel inferior and wants to help you make them a reality.
“Results are in,” Bruce announces, making them all crowd around the computer.
“No Meta Gene,” Tim remarks, staring at the monitor with alarming intensity.
“Yeah, but look,” Jason exclaims, pointing at one of the results. “He’s got something in him that doesn’t belong.”
“For once, Todd is right. The tests show foreign substances in his blood.”
“Wait,” Tim mutters as he leans over and begins typing on the computer, bringing up an extensive menu and going through various files. “That looks so familiar.” An image is pulled up on the monitor. “Here it is! The stuff in his blood matches the stuff found in what remained of Joker.”
Well, this is rather unfortunate. It had hoped that there would be very little of the clown left to examine after his execution by your hand, but as usual, these people cannot resist poking into areas they do not belong.
“If this is substance is in Master Y/N’s blood, does that mean he is responsible for Joker’s death?”
“Bruce, you can’t lock up Y/N after bringing him home,” Dick whines. “You have to admit, your thing with Joker was only going to end one way!”
“We don’t even know if Y/N killed Joker,” Tim interjects. “It’s possible this strain of mold was in both of them and Joker’s was somehow activated, killing him.”
“That’s not exactly comforting, Drake,” Damian responds, glaring at Tim. “That means that Y/N could be in danger. If I had my pick, I would he be responsible for Joker’s death. Knowing he can take down as formidable as the Joker is proof he is a Wayne and my brother.”
If it had eyes, the Megamycete would roll them. This insecure little terror spent years making it clear he saw you as an interloper into his “perfect world” and not as a brother and that you are a disgrace to the Wayne bloodline (although that bloodline was tainted far before you came to be). He has some nerve to call you his brother now.
It still made it angry that he had the nerve to critique your mother (your memories of her painted the woman as a saint) when his mother, the daughter of a millennium-old maniac with delusions of grandeur (yes, you are very aware of his familiar secrets) who drugged Bruce in order to bring him into the world.
“We need to bring him back here, Bruce,” Dick says, defusing a fight between the two. “If he’s in danger, he needs to be back home.”
“I agree,” Bruce responds. “Cass, you and I will go. I’ll distract him and while he’s busy yelling at me, you’ll sneak up behind him and inject him with a tranquilizer.”
The mute nods and the Megamycete wishes it has a mouth so it can scream. Not only is it offensive that they believe you are stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick, but that they believe they have the right to decide something like this on your behalf.
If they have failed to realize that you want nothing to do with them after you have yelled it at them, perhaps they will understand if it tells so itself.
And it knows the perfect form to take.
He stands up from the chair and makes his way to the armory where they keep the tranquilizers meant for the larger criminals, like Bane and Killer Croc.
He hates the thought of using such methods against you, but you’ve made it clear you aren’t going to come back to Gotham willingly and the discovery of this mysterious mold inside you has forced their hand.
Nevertheless, improvisation is one of their many skills, a requirement in their line of work. Once they have you back home, they’ll be able to conduct more in-depth tests and be able to find out what’s wrong with you and go from there.
As much as he hates the idea of you possibly being in pain and may even be in danger, he can’t deny there’s a small inside him that’s glad this has happened. This discovery accelerates their plans and will have you brought home far sooner.
And, there’s the chance that this mold may explain most of your hatred towards them. Sure, he knows you have every right to despise them, but when he saw the look in your eye when you pushed him down that night of the award ceremony. He could tell you enjoyed inflicting pain on him.
This stuff in you must’ve made your temper more volatile and made you lash out at them.
It’s the only explanation.
“Excuse us,” a familiar voice calls throughout the cave, stoping his dead in his tracks.
That voice… No, it can’t be. There’s no way…
He turns around to see you, standing in the cave, all of them looking right at you. The small smile on your face making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“We believe there are some things we should talk about,” you say as you walk closer to them, making his children back up with each step you take.
“No fucking way,” Jason remarks, his eyes wide as saucers.
“Wait,” Tim says as he rushes over to the computer and rapidly types on the keyboard. “You can’t be Y/N. His phone says he’s still in Goodsprings and we’ve been monitoring his GPS signal, so there’s no way you could’ve come all the way to Gotham from Nevada without us knowing!”
That’s right, they’ve been monitoring your phone ever since Alfred helped them remember you, tracking you every move and committing your searches, social media usage, and all your texts and phone calls. They would’ve done the same to your computers that are linked to your phone, but your cybersecurity is tougher than they anticipated (clearly custom) and they haven’t been able to crack the encryption.
He knew you were skilled at making videos games, but he didn’t know your skills with technology expanded into cybersecurity. Ever since they made that discovery, Tim’s spent nearly all day trying to pierce your firewalls, but hasn’t made any progress. He’s also made it clear he wants to have lengthy conversations on computers and programming with you once you’re back home.
So, you’re still in Goodsprings, so who the hell is this, why the hell would they take your form, and how the hell did they get into the Cave without setting off any of the dozens of alarms or sensors?
“Who are you” Damian hisses, taking a defensive posture. “And what gives you the right to assume the form of my brother?”
“You have some nerve calling him your brother,” the Not-You hisses back, the smile morphing into an all-too familiar snarl. “He is too good for you, for any of you.”
Even though he knows this isn’t you, hearing those words in your voice still hurts him.
“Do you know Master Y/N,” Alfred interjects, trying to bring tensions down, most likely so he can learn more from this person.
“Yes, we do,” Not-You responds, looking at the butler, the snarl morphing into a look of… admiration? “And we know you, Alfred Pennyworth. We know of you and how you helped him during his stay in this wretched mansion. You have our gratitude.”
“Look, whoever you are, stop taking Y/N’s form,” Steph exclaims. “You’re obviously a shapeshifter, so turn back to normal! Or the very least, take a different form!”
“Oh, do you all wish for us to take another form,” the Not-You asks, a ghost of a smirk gracing “your” face.
“Yes,” Bruce says without hesitation.
It’s bad enough to see you look at them with such hatred, he won’t tolerate some imposter doing the same thing.
“Very well.”
Before them all, the Not-You turns into a shifting mass of some type of black organic mass before taking on a humanoid shape once again and Bruce’s heart stops when he takes in the new form.
“Hello, Bruce,” the shapeshifter says in a voice he hasn’t heard in years.
Not since that fateful night in Crime Alley.
“Good God,” Alfred says, his eyes wide and his jaw practically on the floor.
In front of them is his mother, every detail exactly how she was that night, still adorned in her favorite pearl necklace and wearing her green dress.
As he stares at her looking at him with those eyes that use to look at him with nothing less than unconditional love, he feels his breathing start to become erratic and eyes begin to mist up.
“What’s wrong, Bruce,” the shapeshifter says in her voice (god, even her voice was exactly how he remembered) as they begin to walk towards him, making him step back. “I thought you would be happy to see me. It has been so long since I was killed.”
“No,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re not her. You can’t be.”
“But I am. Do you not see? I know everything you have done.” His mother’s face then morphs into a disgusted snarl, making him sick to his stomach. “And I am absolutely disgusted in you! Why did we have to die that night? Why not the disgrace we once called our son!”
He knows this isn’t his mother and she never would’ve called him a disgrace, but hearing those words in a voice he’s longed to hear for so long makes him want to cry.
He’s had dreams of seeing his mother’s in the flesh again and now he has to endure this berating? Is he truly that horrible of a man to deserve this?
“Stop it, you bitch,” Jason exclaims as he steps between Bruce and the shapeshifter. “Take another form or get the fuck outta here!”
“Oh, you want us to another form?” His… the shapeshifter shifts once again and in his mother’s place is…
“Hiya, Dead Hood,” Joker exclaims before exclaiming in that all-too familiar cackle and waving around a crow bar in his hand. “Did you miss me?”
It doesn’t take a detective to notice Jason tense up and his breathing stop; Joker left a mark on Jason that unfortunately will never be erased (another shortcoming that eats away at Bruce everyday) and whenever news of Joker escaping Arkham would bring up all the anger, fear, and sadness that was planted in Jason that night he died.
After Joker was killed, he noticed a weight seemed to be lifted off of Jason’s shoulders. Sure, he made jokes about the clown burning in hell, but Bruce could see he was genuinely happy and was ready to move on form that horrible chapter in his life.
And now, all that trauma is about to be dug back up after four years.
“You have five fucking seconds to take another form before I beat the shit outta you,” Jason says in a tone that says he means business, his eyes flickering into that shade of Lazarus green.
“How about this form,” the shapeshifter says in Joker’s voice before changing into John Grayson, making Dick tense up. “Or this form?” John Grayson then shifts into Janet Drake, making Tim tense up.
“Alright, you made your point,” Barbara shouts. “Just turn back into Y/N.”
And with that, the shapeshifter takes your form again.
“Who are you,” Bruce growls, pissed that his sons have had their trauma jabbed at. “We know you’re not Y/N, but you know him and us.”
You may call us the Megamycete.”
“Megamycete,” Tim asks. “So, you’re not human?”
“No, we are a super colony of mold given sentience via a Lazarus Pit.”
“Of course a fucking pit’s involved,” Jason mutters.
“What’s your tie to Y/N,” Dick interjects.
“Y/N is our host. Before, we were confined to a cavern beneath this city, but when we joined with him, we were freed from our prison.”
“So, you’re using him.”
The Megamycete glares at Bruce for his accusation.
“No, he and us operate on mutual trust and respect. Y/N is a respectable young man.” A smirk appears on “your” face. “A trait he clearly did not inherent from you.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Even though this thing is probably the reason why you feel so much hate towards them, it still pains him to know this is his reality.
“Were you responsible for the Joker’s death,” Steph chimes in. “We found weird strains of mold in his remains and you’re a walking, talking pile of mold.”
“While we are not directly responsible for the Joker’s death, we do not deny we were involved. That night, Y/N took us out to Amusement Mile to celebrate when we learned the Joker was sighted in an arcade. Upon seeing the many deaths left in his wake, our host took matters into his own hands and eliminated the biggest threat this city had ever seen.” It gives Bruce a wide smirk. “In a single night, our host did more to help Gotham than you and your brood have done in years.”
Knowing you were responsible for killing Joker didn’t sit well with him. Sure, he’d accepted that Joker’s games were only going to end with one or both of them being dead a long time ago, but knowing that you, his son, had killed him…
“What about Harley,” Dick asks, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. “He killed her too?”
“She forced his hand. He had no choice.”
“What do you mean he had no choice,” Dick shouts. “Did you force him?”
“Do not be stupid,” it says, glaring at his first son. “Our host was in complete control of his actions that night. We no more control his actions than you. The woman was a lost cause, without Joker to keep her in line, she would have punished all of Gotham as retribution for the loss of her love. Also, she would have informed you of him, causing you to devote all your resources to finding him. In order to both save Gotham from her wrath and himself from your scrutiny, Harley had to die.”
No, this thing has to be lying. There’s no way you, one of his sons, could ever rationalize killing someone. It had to have forced you to kill them. It had to…
“How did you even find Y/N,” Damian interjects.
Upon being asked that question, it smiles. And not a normal smile, but a smile that says it knows something they don’t know and something tells Bruce he’s not going to like it.
“He was thrown into our cavern after being left for dead.”
Bruce hears the words, but they just don’t process.
You were… left for dead? When? How?
“It was four years ago, while the butler was on his vacation. That day, his boss was forced to retire due to Gotham’s high crime, so he was forced to find another bus stop within Crime Alley as he had no other way of returning here, where he was unfortunately captured by three thugs and takes to a cabin in the nearby forest. They intended to ransome him off for a high price due to his school uniform.”
You were held hostage? Why didn’t you call for them? For him?
He knows you have no reason to think he’d help you with homework, but surely you’d call him if you were ever—
Just then, memories from that time frame kick in.
Random…
Phone call…
Oh… Oh no…
“Since the butler was out of the country, he actually reached out and gave the thugs the phone number for this manor.”
He so desperately wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“You said all your children were with you and you all laughed and mocked the leader of the thugs.”
He sees all his children tense up at the realization and Alfred looks at him to see if it was true. Based on the butler’s look of shock and disbelief, he knows it’s the truth.
“The one time he reaches out to you for help, you laugh and mock. He needed you and you failed him in the worst way possible.”
He remembers that night. He thought it was so stupid that someone would think he wouldn’t know when one of his kids were missing. He said all his children were with him and meant it.
God, he really is the worst, isn’t he?
“After that phone call, the leader took all his frustrations out on our host, beating him until he could cry out for mercy no longer before shooting him in the head.”
He wants to cry when the image of you being beat up enters his head, and based on the way he flinches, so does Jason, who looks like he wants to cry.
Alfred looks like he’s ready to go nuclear and Bruce doesn’t blame him. Hearing all this years later and he had no idea what happened just proves he was never worthy of being your father.
“He was on the brink of death and had he not accepted our offer to become our host, he would be dead and the world would have been deprived of a brilliant mind.”
The thought of you dying brings a brunch of thoughts to the surface.
How long would it had taken him to notice you were missing?
How would he reacted upon learning you were dead?
Chances are your body would’ve never been found and all there would be to remember you by would be a tombstone with your name in the Wayne Cemetery. Hell, you’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with the Wayne name, so you probably would’ve never agreed to be buried with the rest of the Waynes.
“Our joining restored him to full health and gave him access to many powers, including our records.”
“Records,” Tim asks, clearly interested in this.
“We have existed for four-hundred years, our roots expanding towards every corner of this city. As our roots touched those buried beneath the ground, not only have we watched the goings-on of Gotham, but we absorbed the memories, knowledge, and structure of the deceased. As horrible as the city is, it has attracted many brilliant minds, like artists, scientists, engineers, and many more. He has access to the knowledge of these people, making him one of the smartest humans alive.” It chuckles. “In fact, many of your employees are in our records and he used this knowledge to get revenge on you, selling the secrets of your company to Lex Luthor for a tidy sum.”
You were the one who did that? He’s been racking his brain and reviewing network logs to find any sort of security breach and it was you using the remains of his dead employees.
“Alright, so that solves a lot of mysteries,” Dick interjects. “But that still leaves one: why are you here?”
“We have been by our host’s since that fateful night, peering through his memories and seeing the world through his eyes. Ever since he was forced to move to Gotham, none of you ever made him feel welcome here. For years, he wanted nothing more than to return to his rightful home, where he knew nothing but love. Now, after four years since his departure from this wretched manor, you appear, one after another, trying to bring him back to a place he despises more than anywhere else. We wish to know why.”
“He’s my son,” Bruce answers, not liking what this thing has to say.
“He’s family,” Dick adds. “Of course we’d want him back.”
“But none of you have ever made him feel that way. And if you are honest with yourselves, you never saw him as one of your own. You only want him because you feel guilty about how you treated him, and that guilt is making you believe you are owed a second chance. And you seek to obtain that second chance, no matter how much harm it does to him.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re taking about,” Jason exclaims, clearly getting more and more pissed. “Yeah, we fucked up! But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a part of this fucked up family!”
“He was never a part of this family. We know for a fact that he wishes he could take out the Wayne DNA and return it.”
“That’s because you’re manipulating him,” Damian interjects. “Nothing will change the fact that he’s my blood brother.”
“It is funny you say that when the last interaction you had with him was a fight.” It lifts hits arm and manifests a gold pen in its hand. “Do you remember this? This is the pen you tried to steal from him and then threw out into the rain when he gave you a much deserved slap upside your head. Do you know the significance of this item to our host?”
Bruce gets the feeling that he’s not going to like why that pen is so important to you and based off Alfred’s expression, that feeling gets even worse.
“This pen once belonged to his mother, made by her father when she set out to become an author. When she was taken from him, this pen was the only thing he had to remember her by. And you, the arrogant beast that you are, felt you had the right to take this, his most treasured possession, from him.” It turns its gaze from Damian to the rest of them. “And the rest of you supported this irreverent mongrel and condemned our host without listening to him before passing judgment.”
It seems like a day can’t go by that Bruce feels like the scum of the earth; ever since he learned of how he neglected you for years and forgot you even existed, his sense of worth has taken hit after hit. He was thinking about that argument you had with Damian and how furious he was when you refused to obey him not too long ago, thinking how stupid it was for you to cause so much trouble over a simple pen. Now to find out that “simple pen” was the only thing you had to remember your mother by…
It just never ends, does it?
He could spend the rest of his life atoning for everything he’s ever done to you, spend his last dollar to make your wildest dreams come true and he’d never come close to earning your forgiveness.
He knows he’s not the best father for his children, but he was never worthy of being your father and he’s certainly not that now.
“Y/N,” he whispers, knowing this isn’t you, but it has your face, your vice, and your memories, so it’s the next best thing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He knows tears are falling from his eyes, surprising both Alfred and his children. He doesn’t want them to see him like this, but he can’t help it; the last few days have been one emotional turmoil after another and he’s reached his limits.
He failed his baby in every way possible.
“Now you understand,” it responds as it walks closer to him. “You fulfilled your purpose, Mr. Wayne. You brought Y/N into this world and had him brought to Gotham, where he was delivered into our custody. Now please, do not worry for him, we assure you we will provide him with true happiness. Go on, all you have to do is stay in Gotham and out of our host’s business.”
“Father,” Damian exclaims. “You can’t possibly be considering this!”
“Bruce,” Dick adds. “You aren’t going to actually do it, right?”
“Don’t fuck this up, Bruce,” Jason adds.
“We can’t just give up on him,” Tim adds.
“Yeah, he’s your son,” Barbara adds.
“He’s our brother,” Steph adds.
‘Family doesn’t give up on one another,’ Cass signs.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred warns, clearly not pleased at the thought of giving up on you.
He should, though. He knows that he’ll never be worthy of calling himself your father and you’ve made it clear you hate him and your siblings in every sense of the word. You wanted to go back to your childhood home in Goodsprings, a place that made you feel loved, something his home never made you feel. And the last four years were good to you based off your appearance and success. Plus, you had the Megamycete, that apparently has been more of a family to you than them.
If he was a good person, he’d put your needs and wants ahead of yours and agree to leave you alone and tell his children to do the same. Repeatedly harassing you would only make you hate them more and widen the gap between you and them. You don’t need them and clearly learned how to live without them. Over the past few days, he’s gathered every piece of information about you he can find and from what he sees, you love it in Goodsprings and fully intend on living in the house you and your mother lived.
But he’s not a good person, not by a long shot.
The night his parents were gunned down like animals in that disgusting alley, his sadness had turned into a bright inferno of rage; he wanted to inflict on every criminal that he met every ounce of his never ending vengeance and make them so afraid of him that they refuse to step outside whatever hole they call home, so that no one ever has to lose a child, a parent, a friend, or a loved one to some scumbag with a gun. That was his reason for donning the cowl.
After his parents were taken from him, he made it his mission to never lose anything of his ever again and two things that he holds dear more than anything in this world are Gotham and his family. And as long as he’s breathing, he’ll hold onto those two things until the bitter end.
Is it possible that in his mission to protect his city from Arkham’s inmates have made him forget the little details? Of course, Gotham needs Bruce Wayne as much as it needs Batman.
Is it possible that his need to hold onto his children with an iron grip has made him lose them on multiple occasions? Absolutely, he’s constantly remembering that his children are their own people and that even though they may leave him, they’ll always come home.
And that’s what his situation is with you. He knows he fucked up with you and he can never undo the damage he’s done to you, it doesn’t change the fact that you are his blood, his son, his firstborn.
You belonged to him the moment you were born and there’s nothing that can change that. He wishes he could go back in time and accept the gift of your affection that his past self spurred, but he can’t (his time as a Justice League member has taught him that going back in time is more trouble than it’s worth) and his only option is to move forward and make you see that the only place in this world for you is with him and your siblings here in Gotham, a city that has and always will belong to the Waynes.
And right now, this Megamycete is an obstacle standing in his way of completing his family. And if there’s one thing Bruce is very good at over the years, it’s overcoming obstacles.
“No.”
“Pardon,” it says, confusion etched onto its face.
“No,” he says loudly, making it clear he has no intention on letting you go. “Y/N is my son and their brother. He belongs here, with me and his family, not in some backwater town with some sentient mushroom. We’ll find a way to bring him back here and separate the two of you. And when we do, he’ll have all the time in the world to realize this is where he needs to be. Once he realizes that, all of Gotham will celebrate his return.”
He looks around and sees not only does his family seem happy with that statement, but they think the same as him.
The Megamycete looks at him, silent, seemingly shocked at his statement.
Then, it begins to laugh. First, just soft chuckles, then a laugh so loud, it echoes off the walls of the cave.
“Our host was right, you have clearly lost what sanity you had left. You reject him for years and now that you realize your folly, you seek to make amends? Please, spare us your delusions. This has nothing to do with our host and everything to do with your guilt. The moment you feel absolved, you will return to the status quo and forget he exists.” It motions to his children. “You have plenty of children here to drown in your need for forgiveness, surely you can make do with one of them.”
Then, it leans closer towards him, a smug look adorning its face.
“Also, Y/N belongs to us. He has the moment he fell into our cavern and will continue to until the end of time. Attempt to take him from us and you will suffer the same fate as those three thugs who left him for dead.”
It’s then another mystery gets solved: the slaughter at My Alibi. The three men in the back of the dining room who looked like they had gone through a meat grinder. That was your doing and they had been the ones to kidnap you and leave you for dead.
While he never advocates for killing people, he’s more than happy to make an exception for them. If they tried to kill you, they deserved to be slaughtered.
He only wishes they were still alive so he could pay them a visit before being turned over to Red Hood.
“We’ve fought plenty of Metas in the past. Do you really think you’ll be any different?”
“We have the knowledge and wisdom of countless people over the course of four-hundred years, all of them at the disposal of our host. You still think of him as that timid little thing from all those years ago, but he has become so much more since our joining. You believe yourselves superior than the rest of the general population, but you will find our host far surpasses you in every respect. He also possesses one thing your past adversaries never will.”
“And what’s that?”
“Unbridled hatred towards you.”
He wants to laugh at that. This thing must not have watched too carefully if it thinks people like Joker, Penguin, Poison Ivy, and so many in Arkham don’t hate his guts. He’s spent years being cursed at by all of Gotham’s rogues and beating all of the Riddler’s countless murder attempts to know Batman is at the top of many people’s Most Hated lists.
“If you don’t think half of Arkham doesn’t have dart boards with our pictures on them, you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Steph mocks.
“We do not doubt the genuine animosity the inmates hold towards you, but they are too far gone to imagine a life without any of you; you have foiled many of their crimes so many times, it has become one of the few constants in their lives. Every time they are put back in Arkham, they devote their time to coming up with their next attempt to best you until it is the only thing they care about. If any one of them were to ever defeat you, they would eventually realize how empty their lives are without you and their victory would soon sour.
“Joker would be a perfect example of this as he was as obsessed with you as you were of him.”
As much as he hates to admit it, the talking pile of mold is right. The clown made it clear that as much as he hated Batman, he was just as obsessed with him, going as far as to go after any criminal that took up too much of his time, Harley included in that.
And Bruce was just as obsessed with Joker, coming up with countless contingencies to counter any plot his sick and twisted mind could come up with, as well as devising security protocols and measures for Arkham to keep him contained and treatment plans to find a way possible bring his sanity back (assuming he had any to begin with).
“But our host is not like them. He has longed for a life free of you lot and now that he has that, he has no intention of surrendering it. Attempt to force him to return to this wretched manor and he will be more than happy to bring his fantasies of killing you a reality.”
He knows you hate them, but hearing that you hate them enough to fantasize about killing them cuts him deep.
“Please, I tried to kill Tim and Bruce back when I returned to Gotham,” Jason mocks, but Bruce can see Jason’s obviously concerned about hearing you thinking about killing them. “And Damian took a few tries at Tim. Everyone in this fucked up family’s got anger issues, it’s nothing weird.”
“You are kidding yourself if you believe you and that monster can a hold a candle to his fury. Your so-called anger is nothing more than a candle compared to the inferno that is his rage. You will feel the full might of his righteous fury, which will swallow you whole and leave nothing behind. And when you all are dead, you will be denied entry into our records.”
“So you don’t plan to absorb us,” Dick asks.
“Our host is the one who made that decision. To be added to our records is to be a part of us, and to be a part of us is to be a part of our host. He refuses to have you in his life in any way.” A small smile etches across its face. “We agree with his way of thinking. When you are gone, there will be nothing left and the world will forget any of you ever existed. And that is when our host’s revenge will finally be complete.”
It takes everything Bruce has to not flinch.
With this… thing inside you, what are you capable of? Would you really attack them with intent to kill? Would you really murder your own family?
“Make all the threats you want, creature,” Damian boldly states. “Nothing will stop us from bringing Y/N home.”
“Then this concludes our meeting, we suppose. We had hoped that we could convince you the best thing for you and our host would be to leave him alone and let the past rest, but we see now you all are too deep into your delusions to see reason. We look forward to seeing our host tear you apart, bit by bit.”
In the blink of an eye, the Megamycete turns bone white and crumbles like chalk, scattering all over the floor, leaving them all to stare at the remains in silence.
“So,” Alfred says, breaking the silence. “Was anyone ever going to tell me about a call regarding a random?”
The tension becomes so think, Bruce thinks he’ll start to choke on it. He racks his brain to come up with any answer, but doesn’t find any. At lease not one that won’t make Alfred pissed.
Clearly his children came to the same conclusion, because they remained silent as well, looking away or at the floor when he met their gaze.
“I have to say out of all the disgraceful things all of you have done throughout the years, this definitely takes the cake. I know Master Y/N wasn’t a priority for any of you, but I never would’ve dreamed you would allow him to be put in danger like being held hostage by common thugs.” Every word he says is dripping in venom. “I am absolutely disgusted with all of you.”
The words cut him deep and he deserves it. It was thanks to his incompetence that led to you being kidnapped, beaten to a pulp, shot in the head, and tossed into a cavern like trash and left for dead in a place no one would ever find you.
There’s nothing he can do that will ever make up for all that he’s done to you. He can apologize until he loses his voice permanently, spend all his money to buy you apology gifts, and subject himself to whipping by your hand until he’s lost every bit of his skin and he’d never scratch the surface of everything he’s done to you.
You came to him, a scared little child who just lost his mother and was forced to move to a massive city to live with a man he’s never met and all you wanted was for him to tell you that he loved you and that everything was going to be alright, but no, he was too caught up in his work as Batman instead of finding a healthy way of dealing with losing Jason.
But that’s not all he did, was it?
As much as he wants to, he can’t deny that he replaced you with Tim after the boy lost his parents. He suffered the same loss as you, but he gave Tim the help he needed while denying it to you. But that’s his fault, not Tim’s. His inadequacies are his alone to deal with, not any of his children’s (a lesson he keeps forgetting).
And he did the same thing several more times, bringing in more children and giving them all the love and affection you were denied as a child. He can’t help but wonder what went through your mind as you saw him spending time with them, both in groups and individually. And when you watched them hanging out in the dining room when they came home from patrol, enjoying themselves and each other while you were left alone in some room barely the size of a closet.
God, how many times did you wonder when you’d be asked to join before giving up?
When exactly did you give up on them?
And of course, he can’t forget about how he handled you and Damian meeting, another sign he was never fit to be a father. He knew Damian’s LoA upbringing left him unable to interact with others the proper way, but he still allowed him to see you (because he never considered your safety a priority) and allowed the boy to draw a sword on you, give you a scar on your face, and make several threats on you and insult your mother.
And what did he do after that?
Did he do the responsible thing by taking away the sword, scold the boy for his unacceptable behavior, and make it clear you were his brother and that he’s not allowed to hurt you?
No, of course not.
He did nothing but carry Damian off while allowing him to shout even more threats and insults, thinking nothing about the harm you just experienced and thinking Damian would just outgrow of his behavior on his own.
If he had to guess, it was probably that day you realized you didn’t matter to him and that Damian was the only one he considered a biological son.
Y/N, his baby boy.
He’s so sorry.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Bruce finally says, making his family turn their eyes to him. “We still need to bring Y/N home. Meeting this Megamycete just makes it more important we get him back to the manor.”
“And if Master Y/N fights you? Based off what you were able to gather from both crime scenes, this Megamycete appears to make him a formidable opponent.”
“We can find a way to neutralize it,” Tim chimes in, motioning to the crumbled remains. “I’ll analyze the remains to find a weakness.”
“And if that’s not enough, it said it has roots all over Gotham,” Barbara adds. “I can use the Clocktower to locate the closest sample.”
“Say you manage to subdue Master Y/N and rid him of the Megamycete. What then?”
“Then we make it clear he’s a part of our family now. And we’ll keep telling him that until he believes it. And when he does, we’ll give him the love we should have given him.”
Alfred looks at him before glancing at his children, all of them nodding in agreement.
“I shall hold all of you to that promise. We have a second chance to right our wrongs. I highly doubt we’ll be given another. But don’t think for a second this conversation is over.”
And with that, the butler turns on his heel and promptly makes his way out of the cave, clearly still furious at them.
“Alright, everyone,” he says, getting their attention. “We have work to do. Barbara, get to the Clocktower and start searching for the Megamycete’s roots. Tim, start analyzing the remains and see what you can find. And be ready to receive new samples. The rest of you, be ready to go out and retrieve the roots.”
They nod and set out to work, leaving him with his thoughts.
Fuck, after hearing all that, his mother probably sees him as a failure now. He had so many opportunities to make this right, but he being the complete and total fuck up that he is, missed them, leaving you all alone to fall into the hands of low-life thugs and a sentient mushroom.
He balls his fists so tight so tight he draws blood, but not caring at the pain or the drops of crimson falling onto the cave floor.
All he had to do was be there for you, love you, tell you he’d always be there for you, but he couldn’t do that. When he first learned of you, he was shocked to hear that he had actually been stupid enough to not take precautions to prevent getting a woman pregnant and actually thought you were an inconvenience, blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t asked to be born, you didn’t ask to lose your mother in such a tragic way, and you sure as hell didn’t ask to be given to a man who had no right to be called a father.
He—
No, this line of thinking isn’t doing him any favors.
He takes a deep breath and releases it, throwing all his thoughts and emotions into a dark corner of his mind and locking them behind a massive door (like he always does instead of dealing with them in a healthy way). He’s done the same thing to so many other thoughts and feelings, what’s the harm in doing it now?
What he needs to do now is find a way to deal with a Megamycete and figuring out a method of getting close to you to administer it so they can bring you back home. While that’s already an uphill battle, the true war will be convincing you that they’ve changed and that you need to come back to the manor and live with them.
You’re his son and the brother to his children. And as much as you want to deny it, you have Wayne blood coursing through your veins, tying you to him and Gotham. You belong here, by his side.
And when this is over, he’ll throw the largest gala Gotham’s ever seen to show his love for you.
He’ll do whatever it takes if it means having you back home so h and your siblings can bathe you in their love and affection.
Even if it means taking away your powers and dragging you back here.
Like he said, he’s not a good person.
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Doctor's In - Chapter 7
Summary: You struggle to relax as you recover from an injury.
Wanda Maximoff x F!R
This chapter contains some badly written smut
Wanda is enjoying this far more than you. Having you home 24/7 seems like a luxury that won’t last long and she’s relishing every second of it.
You, on the other hand, are acting like a caged lion, restless and always looking for ways to pass time, though options are limited with your healing shoulder and bruised body.
This morning, you opted for a stroll while Wanda worked on some sketches. The woman has to do a double take when she’s on a coffee break, because it’s been 40 minutes since you left. And there’s only so much walking a person can do in this neighbourhood.
The answer lies a few houses down the block. Wanda’s walking and looking for you when she spots you in the porch of Agatha’s home. Mrs. Hart and Dottie are there as well, cups of tea and biscuits in a table.
You’re taking Mrs. Hart blood pressure, while she keeps talking about her latest medical appointment.
“Sweetheart” Wanda calls for you. “I need your help in the kitchen”
“Oh, Wanda, I’m so sorry. Y/N here was just walking by and we got talking. She’s so brave for saving that man’s life” Agatha places her hand in your bicep, slightly hoping it annoys Wanda.
“Yes, she is. But now she needs to rest”
“Ladies” you greet, standing up and sighing as you go down the steps. “Sorry” you mutter to Wanda.
“No need to apologize” she stands on her toes to peck your lips. You smile, taking her hand as you both walk back home.
“Next time you’re around I’ll need a physical exam, Doc” Agatha calls and Wanda is about to turn and tell her off when you pull her.
“Nu-uh. Let’s go” you say, sincerely afraid of Harkness.
Wanda remains silent for the rest of the walk and you think she might be upset. That is, until you close the door behind you and are abruptly pushed against it, Wanda’s hand pulling down on your shirt possesively.
“Do I need to tie you up?”
“I wouldn’t mind”
“That’s not what I meant”
“But, baby…”
“You’re still recovering” she warns, but you can tell she is considering it.
“My mouth is fine” you whine as her lips approach yours. “Please, I have all this pent up energy, and I need some release”
“Is that what you need? Release?”
“Mhm” you nod, your nose bumping against hers.
“Fine” she finally kisses you, and it turns frantic. Wanda starts leading you upstairs, but you shake your head no, going for the couch instead. With the hand that isn’t in the arm sling, you tug at her yoga pants and she slips them down her beautiful legs, panties following suit.
“Come on, here’s your seat” you say, laying down on the couch. Wanda lowers herself, and almost screams when she feels your tongue working quickly around her bundle of nerves.
Without thinking, you suck harder and let your teeth graze her clit, but the feeling of pleasure is so unexpected that Wanda’s legs close around your neck, her knee digging in your bad shoulder.
“Ow, time out” you plead, pain shooting down your arm.
“I’m sorry, I…” Wanda pushes the hair out of her face, looking at you worriedly. “Are you ok? Should we go to the hospital?”
“I’m fine. No need to go and ruin Darcy’s day with the details of our sexcapades, my love”
“You sure?”
“Yes, come here” you ask, and she hesitates, until you pull her down to lie next to you on her couch. Realising she’s naked from the waist down, your hand travels to her ass, looking to squeeze the soft flesh.
“Stop” she warns with her mom voice. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. I thought I broke your neck a second ago”
“What a way to go” you joke, smiling as Wanda laughs against you.
—
Billy writes down in his notebook and you squint your eyes. Fractions are horrible, and how you wish you were helping Tommy with his art project instead.
So, you check the exercise again and sigh.
“I think that’s right, kiddo”
“You sure?”
How bad would it be to say “not at all”? You figure it wouldn’t be wise considering you’re the adult in the room, so you rub your eyes instead.
“I’ll check again after dinner, ok?” you promise, Wanda telling them to go wash their hands.
Going down the stairs, you find your girlfriend in the kitchen. She’s made an effort to cook anything you’re craving, and tonight’s feast is roast beef with potatoes.
“Delicious” you comment, pulling her so she’s pressing against your front.
“Thank you, I think you’ll like it”
“Wasn’t talking about the food” you pull her hair to the side, clearing the path to litter her neck with open mouthed kisses. “I’m not giving up on this even after what happened earlier”
“You mean how I almost broke your neck?”
“Almost being the key word, baby”
The protest dies in her lips as the kids join you in the kitchen. They set the table for the four of you, doing everything they can to keep you from hurting yourself.
Even as Wanda insists on slicing your portion, you drop the armsling, because you’re very picky about the way you cut your meat.
“Childish” she mutters under her breath and you glare, but smile the same.
Dinner is the usual stuff about classes, the upcoming school trip and how Billy thinks you’re so good with fractions.
They’re in the process of getting ready for bed when you Google the answers to the math exercises, and you’re only wrong twice.
Oh, well.
Once the kids are tucked in, you go back downstairs to clean up, Wanda following suit.
“Please let me”
“Come on, I gotta do something around the house”
“You already helped with Billy’s homework”
“Oh, that. I can’t wait for them to start doing square roots so I’m banging my head against the table”
Wanda laughs at that, settling on the countertop as you wash dishes.
“Yeah, I guess you missed the time where homework was easy. Like coloring, or learning vowels”
“Sounds better than fractions” you recognise.
“Don’t be long” Wanda asks, kissing your cheek and going upstairs.
Your shoulders drop a little, and you eye the armsling, but you’re tired of it and feel like it does more harm than good. Leaving it downstairs, you walk up to find your girlfriend preparing a bath.
“Might help relax” she says, and truthfully, you do feel a lot better when she’s taking off your clothes, hands delicately going over your skin. As she walks behind you to place a small kiss in your shoulder blade, her hands stops in a spot you’re always trying to hide.
“What happened to you?”
“Car accident” you say, not in the mood to delve deeper. Turning in her embrace, you unbutton her shirt, kissing down the valley of her breasts. Next are her pants, and you look up with a smile, helping her step out of them.
You sit in the bathtub, letting Wanda rest between your legs. Your hand goes up and down her arm, but your mind is elsewhere.
Especifically, in the pain that hasn’t stopped.
What if it’s something serious? What if you need surgery? And can’t do your job ever again?
It’s all you have, it’s who you are. You don’t know yourself outside of an OR, outside of grueling shifts and hospital walls.
“Can I ask you something?” Wanda interrupts your spiraling thoughts.
“I do think you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet” you say, kissing the spot between her neck and shoulder.
“No, it’s… uh” she hesitates, looking at her hands. “Did you ever think about having children of your own?”
“Oh” you say, frowning. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess all I ever figured out was what I wanted to be, you know? And it’s so demanding that I never thought I’d be a good mother”
“I just… talking about those early years. I love my kids but I don’t know if I’d do it again, start over with a new baby”
“I’m not holding my breath for that, sweetheart” you promise, kissing her temple. “And I’m a workaholic so it wouldn’t be fair to put you through it so you’re alone for a big part of the time”
“Are you sure? If it’s something you want, I can…” she turns around in your embrace, the water splasing a little. “I can try, maybe it’ll be nice”
“I love the way things are” you promise her, looking distractedly at her breasts. “Especially right now. Can you sit closer so I can pay attention to those two?”
“You’re incorrigible” she laughs, her hands going around your neck.
“And yet, you love it”
—
It was hard to sleep with the shooting pain down your arm, but you refused to take anything for it.
By the time you got some rest it was almost 4 AM, so you completely missed breakfast and driving the kids to school.
Probably for the best, since you’re in a foul mood.
“Hey, I have a meeting with Laura. Wanna come with?” Wanda says when you walk downstairs, changed into jeans and a t-shirt.
“Can you drop me off at the hospital?”
“Sweetheart, I know it’s driving you insane but you can’t go to work right now”
“It’s not… that” you say, struggling with your words. You’re so used to solving everything on your own, it’s hard to share that you have any discomfort.
When you were younger, it added to your mother’s stress because she had other things to deal with, so it only made everything worse at home.
“Are you ok?” Wanda asks softly, finally noticing the bags under your eyes.
“I’m just in pain and would like to check everything’s fine”
“Why didn’t you tell me? We should have gone to the hospital as soon as…”
“Wands” you say, overwhelmed at how much she cares. You pull her close, kissing her softly, and she melts against your lips. “It’s nothing serious, promise”
“Ok. Let’s get going, then”
She insists on going with you, but the meeting with Laura is happening, so you just convince her to pick you up as soon as it’s over.
Greeting the people at the front desk, you walk to the staff area, looking for any familiar faces. It’s empty, so the next place is the ER. The sound and rustling make you nostalgic, and there’s gotta be something really wrong with you, because it’s been five days only.
“Can I help you?” Darcy says behind you.
“Looking for a leprechaun”
“I have not missed you” she remarks, and you wanna say something back, but then you notice your ER board.
“Uh, what the hell did you do to my board?”
“It’s color coded!”
“This is an ER! Not arts and crafts, Lewis” you say, feeling like your heart is breaking at the sight.
“Fury likes it”
“Fury can go to… oh, hello, sir” you say, and he glares at you.
“You’re supposed to be resting”
“I have some pain… wanted to check with Carol if everything’s ok”
“Danvers is in the middle of surgery. Will be an hour or so before she’s free” he explains. “How bad is it?”
“A four, maybe” you lie, and he still looks concerned, because in all the years you’ve worked here, you never get sick or complain if you have anything bothering you.
“Get a CT, I’ll go tell her you’re here” he instructs, patting your good shoulder.
Darcy walks with you to get the CT, and once you’re done you both go to the cafeteria.
“Hey, you didn’t bring any cookies” Darcy complains as you pick up a muffin.
“Wasn’t planning on stopping by”
“How’s domestic life? You ready to retire?”
“It’s fine” you say with a smile, but as always, she can see through the bullshit.
“You look miserable. So, you’re either in a lot of pain or there’s something else”
“I just… feel bad that I don’t know how to rest. You know? I’m a workaholic, and Wanda knows it, but it used to be nice to get breaks and spend time with her and the kids. And now, I should just be relaxing and enjoying this time off but I’m so restless. And I wonder if I’m good for them. If I’ll enjoy going on holidays and spending a few days without work or I’ll promise to be there for something and then let work get in the way”
“Ok, first of all. Every surgeon is a workaholic, you know it. This was the only way we could survive and get as far as we did. But you’re acting as if you’re on an indefinite break. Your CT looks fine. In a week you’ll be back”
“Right. It was just so unexpected…”
“You’ve been working less, haven’t you? Spending more time with Wanda and her kids. That’s a major change. So don’t worry about still loving your job and wanting to do it. It’s who you are. And if Wanda loves you she’ll understand”
"Well, good thing she seems to be done having kids, too” you scratch your neck, thinking about last night’s conversation.
“I thought you wanted kids” your friend frowns.
“I never made up my mind… but if she says she’s done, it’s done”
“Interesting…” Darcy holds her chin, examining you. “I do remember you having baby fever when you did your Peeds rounds”
“Ages ago” you insist, smiling. You were good and you almost decided to focus in that area. But Trauma was always where your passion was.
Darcy’s pager beeps and you look at her with some jealousy, wishing you had somewhere to be.
“Gotta go. Danvers should be done soon. Chill, watch some tv, you’ll be back in no time”
“Thanks, mate. And I know, I’ll ask Wanda for some cookies”
You look around the cafeteria, and then wander the hallways. There are a few people in the ER, sitting and waiting for someone to call their names. Without knowing a thing about Darcy’s system, you pick up a file and say a name out loud.
The little guilt you feel at working when you’re clearly not supposed to is quickly forgotten as you help several people, looking at their X-Rays and writing prescriptions, the armsling tossed away.
That is, until you hear someone calling you across the room.
“Y/N Y/L/N” Wanda hisses. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You squeal, hiding behind a curtain. She pulls it and grabs the file from your hands.
“Did Doctor Danvers see you yet?
“She was in surgery and I was bored!” you complain like a little child.
“We’re finding her and then going home”
Doing all but pulling you by the ear, Wanda drags you around the front desk and asks for Carol, the nurses hiding a smile as you remain in the background, silent.
They tell Wanda that Carol will be in a few minutes, and you wait in one of the examination rooms, you sitting in the bed dangling your feet while Wanda answers an email from Laura.
“How did the meeting go?” you try to make ammends.
“Fine”
“Mmm” you nod, thinking it might be better to drop it.
It only gets worse when Carol walks in, thinking you’re the only one in the room.
“How’s it going, Princess?”
Wanda clears her throat, glaring at the blonde and you want to crawl in a hole and die. Not this again.
“Hey, Wanda. Didn’t see you there” she starts speaking in a rush. “What’s the matter? CT looks fine. Except for that horrible surgery they did on you”
“It was twenty years ago, Danvers” you roll your eyes, avoiding Wanda’s inquisitive stare.
“Ok, take your shirt off. O-or not, don’t” she says when Wanda glares.
“Make up your damn mind” you complain, oblivious to everything.
Wanda stands up, looking you in the eye. She smiles, taking your shirt in her hands and pulling it up. Might as well fucked you right then and there, with the way she looks at you.
Maybe it’s not so bad that she’s jealous of Carol.
“There” she says, and all you can do is focus on her lips. She stands back, sitting on the couch and waiting for Carol to examine you.
“The pain has been recurring, right? What changed?”
“It’s more persistent and intense”
“Have you been taking painkillers? Anything else?”
“Nothing, Doc”
Carol sighs.
“We really are the worst patients” she grumbles. “You have nerve damage, we knew that already. The armsling might be making it worse. Use this instead”
She passes a brace that supports your shoulder and allows you to move freely.
“Wooho, this one is way cooler!”
“Wanda, can you make sure she takes these meds? It will help with the swelling” Carol turns to you. “If you rest properly, you can go back to work in ten days”
“Ten days? I want a second opinion”
“A second opinion would be to try surgery and fix that nerve” she says, knowing Stark would agree.
“Fine. Meds and rest” you grumble, putting on the brace.
“One last thing” Carol says and you’re about to ask what is it when she blind sides you, inyecting something on your muscle.
“That’s low even for you” you complain, feeling the burn.
“That will relax you for a few hours, pal”
“Mmm. Thanks, Carol”
“Anytime. Bye, Wanda”
Your girlfriend thanks her, taking your hand and walking you to the exit, hoping you’ll finally get some rest.
“Who did this?” Darcy fumes from the ER and you rush, dragging Wanda.
“Run, now”
For the second time in the day, someone calls you by your full name, this time sounding less forgiving.
“You messed up the system!” Darcy says, watching you run like a coward. “You’re dead to me”
Wanda laughs at that, and you smile, hoping her mood has improved ever since she caught you working.
“Want anything special for lunch?” Wanda asks as she drives back home and you can’t really think of anything.
“Cuddles and a nap with my beautiful girlfriend” you say, feeling the medicine relaxing you. “Damn it, Carol probably gave me a horse tranquilizer”
“That’s what you get for being so stubborn”
“I am not stubborn” you insist, proving her point.
By the time you’re home, your feet feel heavy. Wanda almost has to carry you to the bedroom, where you plop down.
You feel her taking off your shoes and you honestly try to sit up and help, but Carol really outdid herself with whatever it is she gave you.
Lucky she’s a doctor and not a dealer.
“Wands” you mutter.
“Shh, I’m here. Get some rest”
—
Your mouth feels dry, limbs heavy. Like a hangover, but without the fun part.
“M’gonna kill Carol” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. Wanda’s laugh by your side makes you turn and you smile. “Hey, gorgeous”
“Feeling relaxed?”
“Very. I’m just thirsty”
As if she was a mind reader, Wanda nods towards the nighstand next to your side of the bed, where a glass of water is waiting for you.
“You’re so perfect” you say once you gulp it down, breathing and stretching. “Where are the kids?”
“Soccer practice.”
“Oh, sorry about falling asleep. We could have been watching a movie or something” you try to sit up, but Wanda pulls you down, scooting closer to you.
“I just want you to rest”
“I’m not gonna break if I do other stuff”
She doesn’t answer and you lie down, looking at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry” is all she says and you frown. “For everything that happened with Steve”
“You already apologized. It’s in the past”
“I just want to give you everything, and take care of you. I wish I knew how to make you feel better when you’re in pain”
“You’ve been cooking and helping me do everything for the past week, love”
“Anyone could do that”
“No, you’re the only person who could make it all better by just being here” you say, your hand moving the hair out of her eyes. “I’m damn lucky to have you on my side, Wands”
“I… can I ask about the accident? I feel like I know bits and pieces. Though if it’s too painful”
“I was with my Dad” you say, sighing. “Someone else ran a red light and crashed into us. He didn’t make it. It’s just… there’s no point in dwelling on it. It happened, and no amount of grieving can change it. So I don’t”
“Ok”
“I’m not the best person to be with” you admit. “I’m very much addicted to my job, I don’t have a family that is worth talking about. It’s just me, and whatever happens that day in the ER. Maybe that’s why I struggle with being away from the job. There’s nothing else besides that”
“It’s not just you, not anymore. You have us” Wanda promises, kissing your hand. You smile, nodding.
“I know. I love you”
“Love you too.”
—
You finally found some things to do. Wanda would give you drafts to read, surprised at how good your literary insights were.
“Laura might have competition” she joked once.
As for other forms of entertainment, you were currently picking up on your Project Runway obsession even though you were just rewatching season 8, arguably one of the most dramatic ones.
The arm was a lot better and the pain subsided, which was great news. On the other hand, Carol would never shut up about being the best Ortho surgeon in the whole country.
Still, there was one thing you were hoping to do, taking advantage of all the hours you had alone with Wanda.
Thinking it would be better to just catch her off guard, you were in bed, reading another one of her drafts when she came by the room, stretchig her back.
“Tired, my love?” you say with a sympathetic smile.
“A tiny bit. I was thinking we could get pizza tonight? I’m not in the mood for cooking”
“I’m paying for it”
“You’re paying for groceries and everything else these days” she protests.
“What can I tell you? I like to spoil my girl”
Wanda blushes at that, straddling your lap and leanig down to kiss you. You smile, eager to feel her lips on yours, but also, anticipating her reaction as she feels what’s hidden in your pants.
The way she gasps against your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.
“What are you…?”
Your good arm wraps around her waist, making her rub against the strap on.
“A surprise for you” you say, your nose against her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses. “Unless you don’t want to try it. We can just forget about it”
“No, I- but your arm”
“Well, you could be a good girl and ride my dick” you half joke, not expecting the words to have such an impact on her. Before you can react, she’s reaching down between your bodies.
“I wanna see you” she asks, out of breath. You let her pull your pants down, revealing the harness briefs you’re wearing and the plastic cock attached to them.
“What do you think?” you say, one of your thumbs traveling to her mouth, and she eagerly accepts the intrusion, sucking on your finger. She bites it as you pull out, pupils dilated.
Operating on her desires, Wanda moves down your body, until she’s eye level with the strap. Even though you can’t feel it, the sight of her tongue darting out to lick the tip makes your hips buck, pushing inside without a warning.
But she’s a good girl, and takes it all with enthusiasm, her hands on your hips as you fuck her mouth. The friction against your clit makes your breath quicken, and aware that Wanda’s gagging, you stop moving, pulling her away by the hair.
“Show me how good you can take it, baby” you say, smiling. Wanda doesn’t waste any time, discarding her own pants and placing both hands on the side of your face.
You move your hips up a couple of times, teasing her entrance, until you pull her hips down, and you have to look down, admiring the way her hole swallows every inch, Wanda’s face contorted by pleasure.
Once you bottom out, you give her a few seconds to adjust, and only move when she rocks forward, moaning at the way it feels to be so full.
“Look at you, made to take my cock. Fits so fucking perfectly inside that tight cunt” you taunt, squeezing her neck.
Wanda clenches as you choke her, overwhelmed by all the pleasure she’s feeling.
“Come on, fuck yourself on my dick” you challenge, and she begins moving, slow at first, and then faster, her hips finding a rhytm as you let go of her neck, hand going down to pinch her nipples.
The touch catches her off guard, and she somehow changes positions in your lap, the strap going deeper and hitting just the right spot.
“Oh, God…” she mutters, losing herself in the feeling of being full, riding you as your hands roam around every inch of her beautiful body. “I’m close, please”
“Please, what?”
“Please, make me come” she stutters, her hips moving erratically as she approaches her climax. You let your hand travel down, and as you play with Wanda’s clit, the woman lets out a moan, juices spilling down her legs and between your bodies.
Wanda collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You wait until she calms down to pull out, trying to do it without hurting her.
“Stay inside” she pleads, and the desperation in her words makes you want to fuck her again.
“You did so good, baby” you smile against her temple. “Just relax, I got you”
—-
You had created a horny, hot, insatiable being.
Whenever you were alone in the house, you were usually packing because Wanda would just barge into the room, kiss you like she was running out of time, and then would just push her underwear aside, moaning and panting until she was satisfied. She went at it two or three times each day, even at night though you had to be quiet to not wake up the twins.
How you loved being used for her pleasure, and watch as she was all disheveled when she came, breathing against your neck and repeating how much she loved you and how much she needed you.
Once, you are almost caught by Agatha. This time, you initiate it, approaching Wanda as she makes lunch in the kitchen. Your arm snakes around her middle, hand going up and down until you pinch her nipple through the fabric of her t-shirt. When Wanda arches her back, her ass rubs against the strap, and she moans, allowing you to take her from behind.
“Look at you, taking me so fucking well” you say, spanking her. She moans against her arm, enjoying the new angle and the way your hands grab handfuls of her ass, the soft flesh turning red.
In that precise moment, there’s a knock at the door. You turn at the same time, and while Wanda seems to be trying to gather her thoughts, you keep pushing inside of her.
“Wanda, are you home?” Agatha says.
“Go on, answer her. Tell her you’re getting fucked from behind, baby” you taunt, determined to make her come.
“If she sees us…”
“Better hurry then” you mutter, hips moving faster until you feel Wanda’s legs shake, hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.
You pull out, and force Wanda on her knees. She can’t stand up, as Agatha looks through the window, waving at you. The lower half of your body is hidden by the countertop.
“Do you have any eggs I can borrow?”
“We’re out of those” you lie, moving your hips forward until Wanda gets the hint and licks the strap clean. “I’m going to the store later today, I’ll get some extra for you”
“You’re such a dear. Is Wanda working?”
“Oh, yes. She’s hard at work” you say, smiling.
“If you ever feel lonely, come by and visit me, dear” the woman winks, turning to leave. You keep Wanda in place, fucking her mouth until the pressure on your clit makes you get some release.
“I’m not done with you” you say, pulling her up. “It’s a damn shame you couldn’t be as loud as you wanted before”
Wanda looks confused, or maybe it’s the orgasm she just had. Either way, you guide her upstairs, and she quickly gets on all fours, ass up in the air again.
“Better be screaming my name when I’m done with you”
Of course she did. And you’re pretty sure those screams could be heard all the way to Agatha’s house.
—
“I’m gonna be late for work” you say, not really caring. Wanda’s on your lap, grinding against you. There’s nothing under your scrubs today, because, well, it would be awkward to work while packing all day.
Who knew you’d end up wanting more free time, and all because Wanda can’t go five minutes without getting fucked.
“I’m gonna miss you” she whines, biting down on your earlobe and you moan.
“Baby, you’re not playing fair”
Maybe calling in sick won’t be such a bad idea. Your colleagues will understand. It’s not like they’ve been covering for you for two weeks.
Right.
“I have to go” you sigh against her lips, searching her eyes. You hope she can understand.
“I know, I’m sorry”
Wanda smiles and the way she runs her hands down your cheeks melts your heart.
“I love you. Thank you for helping me heal these past weeks. And I’m sorry for being so difficult at times, my love. I’ll make it up to you”
“I love you too” she smiles, leaning her forehead against yours.
With that, you get ready to drive to the hospital. You’re still wearing the brace Carol gave you, more as a precaution. Wanda also gives you a whole batch of cookies and you suspect Darcy will steal most of it.
You say goodbye at the front door, promising to call her when you have time.
“Welcome back, doctor Y/L/N”
Kate Bishop is the first to greet you, waiting in the ER.
“Thank you, Kate. Did I miss anything big these past few days?”
While you go over some files, she makes the rounds on patients that have been here for the past days and are getting discharged soon.
You go back to the ER to review paperwork and she sticks around, which seems weird.
“Shouldn’t you be around the halls to see if you can scrub in on something?”
“Uh…”
“Look, if they told you to babysit me, don’t worry about it. I can handle this alone”
“That’s not… remember how I hadn’t made up my mind about a specialty? Well, I did. I want to be a Trauma surgeon” she smiles, hoping you’re happy about it.
“Wow! Congrats, Bishop” you can’t help but bring her in for a hug. “Everyone else had their student, but me”
“Well, you have yours now. I can’t wait to learn, Sir. Ma’am. Doctor” Kate stumbles with her words and you pat her back.
That very second, two people walk in, screaming something about their Halloween decoration and a freak accident.
“Let the lessons begin, kid”
And so, you spend the better part of the shift stabilizing a patient and working with Stark to stop a brain bleeding from a falling pumpkin.
“It’s that time of year again” he says, and you sigh.
“What is?” Peter looks around the table.
“You wouldn’t believe the amount of freak accidents when holidays are around” Stark says. “Well, Dr. Y/L/N knows better than me, she’s the one treating everything”
“Cuts while carving pumpkins, blazing Jack-O-Lanterns, food allergies for kids”
“Tripping with their too long ghost costumes” Stark adds. “Learn that the hard way with Morgan”
“Gotta warn Wanda about that” you grimace.
“Ah, yes, the missus” Stark says, and you can’t see a lot of his face but you can tell by his tone that he is ready to tease you.
“Careful, Doctor Stark”
“I’m just saying, everyone thinks it’s cute. Morgan loves her and their art lessons too. Plus, it’s nice to see a doctor dating someone outside of the hospital. I’m so done with all the hook ups, it’s nearly impossible to find an on call room to rest”
“You own the hospital, can’t you do something about the rooms?”
“Not without causing a meltdown for HR” he says and you both chuckle.
“It is nice to be with someone who thinks you’re crazy for wanting to be working for two straight days. Gives you perspective”
“Precisely” Stark agrees. “Well, Peter can close him up”
“Meet you back at the ER, doctor Bishop”
You nod, going to the scrub room to wash your hands.
“Carol told me about your little nerve thing”
“Of course she did”
“There’s a great chance for the procedure to work, it’s also non invasive. Recovery time is…”
“I’ll think about it. But it hasn’t been bothering me anymore. Maybe it was just the shoulder injury”
“Yeah, maybe. But you know how it is. Wouldn’t you want to be completely sure you’ll be fine holding your baby one day?”
“Wanda is done having kids so that’s not a particular concern of mine” you say in an even tone.
“Really? With the way she looks at you, it almost seems like she wants you to knock her up”
“Tony” you elbow him, and he cackles.
“Just saying. Your kids would be cute”
“Are you having baby fever and trying to drag me with you?” you raise an eyebrow.
“Maybe” he winks as you leave the scrub room.
Still, the conversation leaves you thinking about Wanda and as soon as you’re out of the OR you call her.
“You’re on speaker, my love” she says, making you smile.
You can hear Billy and Tommy rushing to her side, speaking over each other.
“Woah, woah, one at a time”
“I got an A in my Science paper!”
“I scored a goal in practice”
“Way to go, kiddos. Can’t wait to hear all about it”
“We miss you” Tommy says, which makes you strangely emotional.
You never had someone say that to you.
“Miss you too” you admit.
“Go wash your hands, say bye to Y/N” Wanda waits a little and then talks to you again. “You’re still on speaker because I’m finishing dinner”
“No dirty talk, got it” you chuckle.
“How’s the day so far?”
“Oh, we had a freak accident with Halloween decoration which reminds me, don’t put anything until I’m there to help?”
“Ok, I won’t” she agrees.
“And Kate, you remember her? She’s a resident and today she told me she wants to be a Trauma surgeon so I guess I am officially her teacher”
“Congratulations, she got the best one”
“Yeah, it’s just a lot of responsibility, I guess” you chew on your lip, thinking about everything you’ll have to teach her. It’s not just the medical side, it’s about handling the stress and the pressure of helping people in the worst situations.
“I’m sure you’ll do great” Wanda says, knowing your sudden silence means you are overthinking. “Is the shoulder ok? Promise me you’ll eat something and get some rest”
Your pager interrupts the moment and Wanda groans.
“I’m afraid I can’t keep that promise, love of my life. Will talk to you later”
“Love you”
“Love you too”
Kate meets you in the ER and you’re suddenly dealing with a car accident and four patients, two of them children.
“Page Maria and Carol, this is gonna be a long night”
“And my shift is just starting” Darcy says behind you and you turn, excited to see your best friend.
“Missed me?”
“Not a bit”
But you know she’s full of it. You scrub in together, and she updates you on all the gossip you missed, using codenames no one else knows about.
“Did you hear Doctor Bishop is my new apprentice?” you say when you let her close the patient.
“Congrats, you finally got a minion”
“Wanna get one for you?”
“Ugh, no, you gotta water them twice a week and it’s too much trouble. I’m fine just being an attending” she rolls her eyes.
You’re about to go on a lecture about the importance of teaching and mentoring when Kate curses, and the patient begins to crash.
“Move” you say, stepping in to check what’s wrong.
“See?” Darcy says.
Though Kate didn’t do anything wrong, you ended up an hour more in the OR to make sure everything was ok.
When you’re done it’s close to dawn and you’re exhausted. Darcy finds an empty room and you plop down in one of the beds, sighing. It’s too early to call Wanda. You remove the brace to rest your shoulder.
“Do you think people ever considered we were hooking up?” you ask your friend, remembering the conversation with Stark. It’s just a funny thought, but Darcy let’s out a groan.
“Ugh, I hope not”
“Excuse me?” you sit up. “It sounds like you’re offended by the idea”
“You’re just not my type”
“So hot and successful is not your type?”
“You’re too tall!” she shouts.
“You’re too small!” you say, turning around so she only sees your back. “Garden gnome”
“Big foot” she whispers and you both laugh.
—
“Wanda, baby” you moan, kissing the… pillow?
Your pager wakes you up, and you look around the room, confused.
“I’m trying to sleep” Darcy complains.
“So was I” you say, checking your phone. It’s nothing related to the ER, so you go to the room where you’re called to.
“How can I help...” you walk into the room, and are surprised to see Wanda sitting in the bed. “Baby, hey! Wait, are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine” she says, appreciating your concern. Still, you check every inch of her body, hands holding her face gently. “I drove Agatha here”
“Why?” you frown.
“She cut herself while carving out a pumpkin”
“Halloween is always like this. I hate it” you mumble, and Wanda laughs.
“Don’t be such a party pooper. What’s wrong with dressing up and getting candy?”
“Trust me, spend a night in the ER with people who thought it would be a good idea to bring a real chainsaw to a party and you’ll agree with me”
“Well, I’ll have to change your mind about it” Wanda bites her lip, pulling you closer. “Maybe wear something real nice to cheer you up”
“I’m listening” you say, moaning against her mouth when she finally closes the distance. God, you forgot how good it feels to have her in your arms. “I should go check on Agatha”
“Your little student is taking care of her. Plus, I have a few symptoms of my own I’d like to ask about”
“Ok, what is it?”
“I have heart palpitations… and something like a flutter in my stomach. It’s hard to focus sometimes, too”
“When does this happen?” you play along, smiling as Wanda pulls you in between her legs.
“When I'm thinking about my girlfriend fucking me real hard”
“Babe” you sigh against her lips.
“Nu-uh. You’re working” she smiles, happy to see you so worked up.
“Mean”
Wanda laughs against your temple, her hands running up and down your arms.
“When does your shift end?”
“Tomorrow morning. Which would give me enough time to get ready for Laura’s party”
“You remembered” Wanda says, shocked.
“Well, yeah”
“I told you a month ago”
“And I wrote it down so I didn’t forget. You told me it was important for me to be there” you smile, unaware of the impact a little gesture like that could have in Wanda.
“I changed my mind, I need you to fuck me here”
You open and close your mouth a few times, looking at the door and then at Wanda. Yeah, you’d be crazy to let that chance slip.
Undoing the butto of her jeans, your hand moves as much as possible in the confined space, rubbing her clit through her underwear until Wanda is panting against your ear.
The woman finishes with a groan that you muffle with your lips, worried someone might come in.
Still, when you both leave the room, a bit disheveled and blushing, Stark glares and you wink.
“At least it’s not an on call room, Tony”
Wanda follows you to the ER, where Kate is finishing with Agatha’s stitches.
“Took your sweet time, Wanda” Agatha says, and you try to hide your smile.
“Sorry, that was my fault. But I’m here now and I’ll make sure everything is fine. Nice work, Doctor Bishop. Mrs. Harkness is a vital member of our community”
“Oh, darling, aren’t you a dear?” Agatha laughs, patting your arm. “Careful, Wanda, I might steal her from you”
You’re pretty sure Wanda’s response is not gonna be a nice one, but then you’re interrupted by the forensic that works at the morgue.
“Yo, Y/L/N. Can I get your name here?” Rio asks, her tone even and deadpan expression making her look bored, as usual.
“Sure, Death. There ya go”
Rio looks at Agatha for a second too long and then smiles to herself.
“I love to play with knives too” the brunette says, winking at your neighbour.
Wanda and you share a look, as if you’re wondering if Rio is the answer to all your problems.
“Who was that?” Agatha says, enthranced.
“Rio Vidal. We call her Death because she’s at the morgue, doing autopsies. Seems like she likes you”
“Could I… can you give her my phone number?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll go straight to the morgue and make sure she has it, Agatha” you promise.
Once Kate finishes with closing the wound, Agatha tells Wanda they better go, so you’re free to find Rio.
“See you in 24 hours, my beautiful girlfriend” you promise, kissing Wanda.
“Lovebirds, wrap it up. Vámonos”
“Ugh” Wanda rolls her eyes. Maybe she liked Agatha better when she pretended to be nice to you to upset her.
“Smile, darling. Let’s hope Rio keeps her busy for the next few weeks”
“Or centuries” Wanda jokes and you laugh, kissing her softly.
—
A 48 hour shift when you just got back to work was not your best idea. As you park in your driveway, you text Wanda to let her know you’ll shower and rest a bit before you leave at noon.
You almost fall asleep standing in the shower, but snap out of it and clean yourself up so you can get a nap.
Once you wake up, it’s a little before noon so you get some time to change into pants, a t-shirt and sneakers.
“Well, hello there” you admire Wanda’s figure in a sundress. “Am I underdressed?”
“It’s a barbecue, baby, you’re fine” she smiles, pulling you inside and cornering you against the door. “Missed you”
“Missed you too” you sigh against her lips.
“Mom, have you seen my shoes?” Tommy says from upstairs and you laugh.
It takes the twins a couple more minutes to get ready, but once they go down and see you, they’re both buzzing with excitement.
The whole car ride is spent asking them questions about their day. As soon as you park, though, they are out the door, eager to greet Cooper and Lila.
You carry the pie Wanda made and put it on a table full of food.
“Wow, it’s kinda nice to live outside the city” you say admiring the entire property. Wanda had told you they lived in a farm, but you thought it was a figure of speech. “Maybe we need to get something like this, babe”
“Wanda, glad you could make it. You must be Y/N” a brunette approaches you, and you squeeze her hand.
“Nice you meet you, Laura”
“I hear you already know my husband”
“Yeah, we’ve had our share of work stuff” you nod, hand going to your shoulder.
As if on cue, Clint shows up holding a baby that is getting restless.
“Sweetheart, did you feed Nathaniel? Oh, hey Wanda. Y/N”
“I just fed him. Can you take care of him for a bit? I gotta make the mashed potatoes”
“Why don’t I…” you suggest when the baby starts crying. His eyes widen at the shift and then stares at you. Holding your breath, you expect him to begin hollering but he just laughs, curious about your hair. “There we go”
“Oh, wow. Wanda, you should have mentioned this sooner” Laura says, amazed at how Nathaniel seems to be so at ease with you.
“Come on, little prince. Let’s walk around the party for a bit. Say bye to Mom and Dad”
“I’ll catch you later, gotta help Laura for a bit” Wanda says, finding it hard to look away from you.
“Ok, darling” you say, balancing Nathaniel in your arms.
You walk around the Barton’s property, waving at the twins and their friends. Nathaniel bounces around in your arms, wanting to play with his siblings.
“What are you up to, kiddos?”
“We’re gonna play hide and seek. Wanna join us?” Billy says.
“Gotta look out for Nathaniel, but enjoy”
Across the field, some of Clint’s friends are playing soccer. Nathaniel seems interested in the ball, so you stand on the edge and let him follow it with his eyes. At one point, one of the guys throws it your way by accident and you’re able to stop it with your foot, without dropping Nathaniel.
There’s a chorus of whistles and one of the man approaches.
“Hey, you must be the cutest babysitter I’ve seen”
“I’m a guest of Clint and Laura” you say, ignoring his advances. “And you are a hazard to babies. Goodbye”
Wanda is following your every move from the kitchen, and she’s reluctant to admit that the image of you holding a baby so confidently is doing things to her.
“There are kids present” Laura teases and she laughs.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Can’t say that I blame you. She looks good with a baby”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know, we talked about it and she seemed to be indifferent to the idea. Or maybe it was because I tried to brush it off” Wanda sighs, cutting up more fruit. Truth is, she did wonder what it would be like, to have a partner that was with her every step of the way.
She loved her boys, but she had done everything on her own. Sometimes Pietro and her parents would help, but she didn’t have a spouse that would be her companion in every sense of the word.
“Well, I don’t think she’s completely convinced about it either” Laura points your way, and you’re making Nathaniel giggle with silly faces.
“Diaper change” you announce a moment later; walking to the living room. “I can do it”
“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart” Laura says, pointing at the diapers and wipes. Wanda takes a break from the cooking, to check if you need any help.
To her surprise, you’re changing the diaper expertly. In one swift motion, it’s all done and cleaned. Your girlfriend joins in, talking to Nathaniel while her hand runs up and down your back.
“We’re missing a player, wanna join us?” Clint calls from the door. Wanda takes Nathaniel from your arms, and you kiss her cheek.
When you walk to the field, the same man that spoke to you before approaches.
“Hey, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Sam Wilson” you arch an eyebrow, staying silent. “Come on, can I at least get your name?”
“I’m Y/N”
“Ok, Y/N. Why don’t we make it interesting? If I score a goal, I can ask you something about yourself”
“Well, what do I get if I score?” you say, smiling.
“Whatever you want, gorgeous”
You look around the field, spotting Lila playing with some nail polish.
“Lila gets to do your nails”
“Alright. Let’s go”
It’s funny, how Sam and his team think they have to go easy on you. It takes them two goals to catch up and realise they’re not letting you win.
You’re making them lose big time.
Throwing some turns and dribbles, you make Sam lose his footing, jumping over him to kick the ball one last time and score another goal.
“That’s three versus zero, Sam” you pat his back.
“One last shot” he says. You roll your eyes, too tired to argue with him. This time, you run around with the ball but do a simple kick that he can intercept.
“Yes. Goal!” he stops mid dance to turn to you. “My question is, do you have a boyfriend?”
“Nope” you answer, smiling as you can see Wanda approaching you. She walks past Sam, jumping into your arms and putting her legs around your waist. She kisses you, groaning against your mouth when you bite her bottom lip.
“She does, however, have a girlfriend” Wanda says, getting down. “Food’s ready”
“I’m starving” you say, letting Wanda pull you to the table, leaving Sam behind, confused and exhausted.
—
It was a wonderful party. There was plenty of food, playing and cleaning to do. In the end, the twins wanted to stay over to play with the Barton children.
Laura said it would be no trouble, and you voluntereed to pick them all up the next day to go to the movies or anything else.
“Had the best time today” you say, stretching in Wanda’s bed. She stays silent for a second and you sit up. “Everything ok?”
“Yeah, I’m just…” she interrupts her beauty routine to turn and look at you. “Would it be a mistake to tell you that maybe, I still want to have another baby?”
“Am I that irresistible holding a toddler?” you wiggle your eyebrows and Wanda let’s out a laugh, relieved that you’re not freaked out by what she just said. You stand up, kneeling in front of her. “I think having a little baby girl that looks like you would be the best thing ever. I also know having a kid involves a lot of changes and planning. But I can’t think of anyone better to do it with”
“So… why don’t we just leave that door open?” Wanda says, looking at her lap where your hands are clasped together. “For now”
“Yes, my love” you nod, kissing the tip of her nose. You’re about to stand up when she pulls you down by your shirt, this time in a rougher kiss.
“I got us something” she says, breathing heavily.
“Oh?”
“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to”
“Now I really need to know what it is, Wanda” you say, the exhaustion of the past days leaving your body at the idea of having sex with your girlfriend.
“Get in bed and close your eyes”
You nod, excitedly waiting for her to reveal what she got. You hear her drawer open and close, and your heart beats faster.
“Ok” she says, and as you open your eyes you don’t notice anything different, until you look at her hand.
“Oh” you pick up the strap, arching an eyebrow.
“It’s a…”
“I know what it is” you say with a smile, checking that it is indeed hollow. Out of curiosity, you squeeze it and a stream of lube shoots out of the tip. “Shit. Sorry, love. I’ll last longer next time”
“You’re an idiot” she laughs, hiding her face in her hands.
“So, wanna try it?”
“I do, yeah… uh, it’s a fantasy of mine to feel you, as if, finishing inside. I mean, I know it’s just something different but… yeah” she turns red, looking between you and the strap.
“No need to feel ashamed, my darling. I like to be tied up, if you want us to share some kinks”
“That would be amazing” she says, a little out of breath. “But if we do all of that, I might not survive, so, just one thing at a time?”
“Of course” you smile, placing the strap on the nighstand. “Come here”
You let Wanda sit on your lap, and you begin to kiss her, taking your time and alternating between running your tongue down her lip and letting it explore the inside of her mouth.
“This toy is a bit bigger than what we’ve used before, so why don’t I… get you nice and ready, huh?” you whisper hotly, pulling her underwear to the side. Without waiting for an answer, you collect Wanda’s juices in your fingers, prodding at her entrance and stretching her. When you bring a finger to your mouth and suck, Wanda’s mouth opens, hypnotized by your movement. “Lie on your back and get that dress off. I wanna taste that pussy”
She doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch with a smile as she discards the dress, waiting in her matching lace set.
“What a good girl” you purr, crawling until you’re close to her center. You kiss the inside of her thighs, and then pull down her panties, slick coating the fabric.
Wanda arches her back when she feels your mouth on her cunt, holding your head in place. You let her dig her nails in your scalp, moving against your face until you have her arousal on your chin and lips.
“Feeling ready to take my cock?” you say, standing up to take off your clothes. Wanda is so worked up that she barely listens to you, watching as you adjust the strap around your hips.
Before you can get back to bed, Wanda leans forward, licking the shaft.
“Fuck” you say, admiring how the cock disappears inside her mouth, and she looks so pleased licking it that you’re tempted to squeeze and have the lube run down her throat.
Maybe later, you decide when she breaks apart, gasping for air.
“I’m not waiting any longer to be buried inside you” you say, pushing her so she’s on her back again. “Ready?”
“Please, just fuck me already” she says, canting her hips up.
“So desperate. And all just so you can have my cum inside you, is that right?” you taunt, letting the tip in and watching for any sign of discomfort.
Wanda bites her lip and the way she looks at you makes your hips jerk, introducing more of the toy. The woman moans, her nails digging in your sides.
“That’s it” she sighs, while you move in and out, starting a slow and steady ryhtm. You lift her legs and put them over your shoulders, going deeper and hitting that perfect spot that makes her see stars.
“Harder, I want you to fuck me so hard”
“How hard, huh?” your hand goes to her neck and you squeeze. Wanda moans your name, enjoying the pressure. “Want me to come inside you?”
“Yes, please fill me up”
“So pretty when you beg” you mutter, pounding harder and letting the hand that was chocking her travel to her nipples. You pinch one and then the other, enjoying Wanda’s sensitivity.
As you change your angle, Wanda’s legs squeeze you, pulling you closer. You thrust harder, erratically, knowing you’re close and so is she.
“Wanna get you nice and full”
“Fuck, yes” Wanda cries out, biting the spot between your shoulder and neck. “I’m gonna…”
As soon as she says those words, your hand travels between your bodies, squeezing the strap on so it can shoot the load inside of her.
Wanda lets out a loud moan at the feeling, pulling you until you can’t hold yourself up, collapsing on top of her.
For a few minutes, all that can be heard is your heavy breathing. Once you come to your senses, you move to the side. While Wanda is still trying to recover, you look down, clenching at the mess between your bodies.
“Give me a second and we can…” Wanda says, coming back to her senses. You smile, kissing her softly.
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”
Once her breathing evens out, she scoots closer, hiding in your arms.
“Was it good? We appreciate honest feedback here”
Wanda laughs, kissing your neck.
“It was so good I think I might be pregnant”
“Well” you say, rolling so Wanda’s on top now. “That will be one beautiful baby”
—
This has been the best night of your life. You’re usually quiet when having sex, because you never have the house to yourselves. After that, you cuddle and call it a night.
Not this night, though. You had been at it for a couple of hours when you got hungry, so now you’re having a midnight snack, Wanda wearing your shirt and you in the usual tank top.
“Food’s almost ready” Wanda says.
"While we wait, let's..." you trail off, playing some music.
I used to love like a lovesick puppy Loving on anyone who'd throw me a bone I didn't care if they weren't good for me 'Cause it was better than being alone
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks with a smile when you reach out for her hand.
“Can I have this dance?”
“I’m a terrible dancer” she warns you, but you shrug your shoulders.
“You’re not wearing heels right now, so we’re safe. Come on, I’ll lead��
Without waiting for her reply, your hands go around her waist. Wanda puts her arms over your shoulders, letting you sway her to the music.
Now I've grown up to be a pretty cool person Loving myself and I know my worth I think I'm ready to find my person 'Cause I won't accept less than I deserve
“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, I’m looking for a wife” you sing, making Wanda laugh.
“Is this you proposing?”
“What? Nu-uh. When I do it, it’s gonna be awesome. And unexpected. But mostly awesome”
“When you propose? You thought about it”
“I’m here for the long run, baby”
Wanda smiles, leaning against your chest, while you keep rocking gently to the music.
“I love you”
“Love you too, Wanda”
Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that No sweat 'cause I know you've got my back Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that, want a love like that
A/N: Song is Emergency Contact by Corook. Please listen to all her music.
Last year I told you all to listen to Chappell Roan and none of you did and LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW
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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin
MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED
SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.
Table of Contents
WORD COUNT: 1.5K
CHAPTER SIX:
Kento’s bathroom was nice, and it was also nice the last time you sat on the edge of his bathtub, hungover.
You stared at the drying white patch on the bottom of your dress and fought the urge to break out into uncontrollable laughter.
It was hilarious, it shouldn’t have been, but it was. This whole situation was starting to dawn on you; Kento Nanami, no matter how tall and how stoic and sneakily flirty he was, was a virgin—a virgin who was trusting you to be the calm and collected one. Running to the bathroom after having him release on you isn’t painting the image of a calm and collected person.
Opting for a calmer approach, you changed out of your dress first and threw on his shirt. It was black and oversized, with the words “Metallica” written in big white letters.
Metallica? He didn’t seem like the type.
When you opened your door, you were half surprised not to see Kento standing at your door waiting to usher you back into the kitchen, but he was nowhere to be seen. Walking down the dimly lit hallway and back into the living room, it was empty, with no sign of the blonde anywhere. You made sure to step over the rug and look over the couch to see Kento setting up the dinner table.
Candles lit and food already set down, Kento walked around the table, fussing over every last detail. It was cute to watch from a distance. You approached slowly and quietly, stopping once you were close enough to watch but far enough not to be detected. He hummed along to some jazz song that played in the background.
“Can I sit down, or should I keep watching you shift the cutlery to the right and then the left again?” You smiled at him, stepping into the warm yellowish candlelight. Its soft scent hugged your body and filled your nose.
“I don’t know…” Kento looked up at you, “I quite like my view right now. Maybe I’ll make you stand here for the rest of the night as I eat.”
“You wouldn’t be so cruel, Mr. Nanami.”
“I just might.”
Kento took your hand and led you to your spot. You were across from each other at the ends of the table.
“So Metallica?”
“Don’t seem like the type, do I?”
“Not in the slightest.” You laughed.
“Was very antisocial in high school.”
“More so than now?” Kento nodded before continuing,
“It was comical how bad it was. Anyways, my lack of want to socialize, along with wired earphones and a lock on my door, I found solace in music, loud, loud music.
Long story short, he was a big emo kid who swore that his life was not just a phase.”
“Awe. I was a big Orchestra nerd, Cello first chair, Always.”
“Of course you were.”
“I look like an Orchestra kid?”
“No, you look like the type to be perfect at everything.”
“You flatter me, Mr. Nanami.”
“Don’t let it go to your pretty head.”
“You think I am pretty?” you asked, taking another bite of the food, holding back the urge to moan at the taste.
Nanami didn’t answer immediately, taking a slow sip at his wine as he held your stare.
“You have no idea what I think about you.” You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to; it was like he dared you to break it first to give in. Kento was pulling you in each direction. Did he want you to take the lead, or did he want you to give in? Something in his eyes, a glimmer of defiance.
Take the lead, it is.
“Eat your food, Kento.” You said, a small smile painted on your face as it was your turn to take a long swig at your drink. The red wine slipped down your throat and warmed your stomach.
“I think you should do the same, Y/N. I can’t have you drinking on an empty stomach.” You laughed under your breath, taking a bite out of your food, watching as he followed along, only eating when you did.
Soon, nothing was on your plate and an almost empty wine cup.
“Come to the couch and bring the bottle with you, Kento.” Standing up, you didn’t wait to see if he had followed your order; you heard the quiet sound of his steps tracking behind you.
Sitting across from you, Nanami Kento looked on, a proud man.
“What do you want from me, Mr. Nanami?” Fear tightened its grip on your heart, uncertainty casting a shadow over your thoughts. You were both grown adults; there was no need to beat around the bush. Casual relationships were a familiar territory for you, but they always left someone hurt. Was Kento looking to be serious, or were you just a pawn in his game of manhood? A person must satisfy his desires and boast about them to Satoru. No matter how much you wanted to belive he wasn’t like that, he could be that type.
“I am a virgin.”
“As we have previously established.”
“I like you, but I am a virgin.” He took a deep breath before continuing. His eyes not on you fully. “I want to please you. I want to give you what others also could. But I— I don’t know how.”
“Kento… We don’t have to jump straight into the sex. It can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait. I want you to teach me.”
“Teach you?”
“Yes. So tell me what you want, and teach me how to do it. I’ll be good for you; I’ll be so so good if you give me time to learn.”
“You want me to teach you?”
His head nodded rapidly as he inched closer to you, and now on your thigh, ghosting over your damp-clothed cunt.
“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath.
“Is that what you want? Me to fuck you?” His head fell into your neck, panting as his hand pressed against your pussy.
You shook your heads at his words. You did want him to fuck you, but your head became less and less there as his fingers rubbed you over your panties.
“No? you don’t want me to fuck you?” He was teasing you. Mocking you.
“Kento.” You warned him as you pressed yourself into his hand more.
“Y/N.” He mirrored.
“I want you to make me cum.”
“Teach me.” He whispered against your skin. Hands tugging at your panties until they ripped. He discarded the wet fabric on his rug and kept his attention on you. More so, your aching cunt. With one thick finger now inside you, you writhed against him.
“Tell me what to do, Y/N.” He demanded.
“Pump in and out.” He nodded, watching your face as you let yourself be taken by the pleasure.
“Oh fuck, Kento. More. More Please More now.” You grasped his hair, tugging it back slightly as you moved your hips in time with his digit.
“Another one?”
“Yes, God Y-Yes.”
With another finger in you now, your whines and moans became more consistent as he forced them out of you.
“Curl your fingers up. Kento.”
He didn’t even verbally respond. He was too busy moaning at you, moaning as if your pleasure was just as much his as it was yours.
His head was already nuzzled in your neck. He took a long stripe at your jugular as his fingers made a come here motion inside you.
You were a mess, moaning and panting. It was like he was pulling pleasure from you on a string. His breath felt hot against you, and in between the groans of pleasure he received, grinding into your words so high pitched, so whiney they couldn’t have possibly been from him. But they were.
“Teach me.” A bite to your neck and a groan followed. You could barely breathe, let alone process his words to you.
“I am teaching you.” You slurred through a honeyed tongue.
“Teach me”, He repeated, licking over his previous bite. “Please, Y/N. Show me how to make you cum,”
“Y-You, are already doing– Fuck!” It was too much; you tried, but the words failed you. Your sentences became nothing but incoherent babbles,
“I thought you said you wanted me to make you cum,” Kento removed his fingers, taking them to his mouth, “So Teach me, Y/N.”
He raised your hips until your legs sat over his shoulders and mouth hovering outside of your wet entrance. He took a greedy stripe at your cunt; slowly, with so much pressure, a broken sob escaped you. It was a single lick, and he pulled away immediately, not before moaning at your taste.
“Please,” he begged over and over as he continued to force your hips against him.
“Teach me.” He licked again. This time, no moan left you. Despite your mouth being wide open in the shape of an “O”, You didn’t make a single sound. Your body convulsed, and you came all over his chin.
“Teach me,” Kento demanded one last time. And you nodded mindlessly along to his words, and Kento had cum again, just from the sight of you.
Preview...
“Bend over and be a good girl.”
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After all this time… (Night One.)
A/N: At the time of posting this, most people had voted that this be released in parts, and I’m impatient, so I’ll be releasing these in a few parts separated by the days of the story! As always, please drop any suggestions in the replies or my asks if there’s anything you’d like to see 😊
Synopsis: You come home with your childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy during your break at college, and instead of going to your own house, you stay at theirs with them and their mother… who you’ve had a huge crush on since before you can remember. As the visit goes on, you find it more and more torturous with your forced proximity and how she only seems to get more beautiful as the years pass.
Warnings: Nothing crazy this chapter, allusions to masturbation, drinking, pet names, legal age gap, strict!wanda.
Pairing: Mom!Wanda x Student!Reader (fem)
…………………………………………………………………………
As the holiday break approached, you felt a surge of excitement and a slight nervousness. You had been looking forward to this moment for months- after a long semester at college, you were finally heading home. Well, you weren’t going back to your own house. Your parents were spending their holidays traveling out of the country and exploring, so instead, you were going to stay with her childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy, at their home just five minutes away from the house you grew up in.
The twins' mom, Wanda Maximoff, had always been like a second mother to you. Growing up, she spent countless afternoons in their cozy home, playing games, doing homework, and watching sitcoms with the three of you. She was especially kind to you out of all the boys’ friends, and you suspected she’d always wanted a few more girls in her life, which was crowded by the masculine energies of Vision, Billy, and Tommy. She’d stay up with you after the boys went to bed, tired from their hours of roughhousing, and would spend those extra hours teaching you how to braid your hair by doing yours and then allowing you to try on her long, shiny red hair. Their home became your second house, their door always open to you.
Now, though, you were anxious on your train ride home to the woman and your childhood best friends. You’d stayed friends with the older woman on socials once you were allowed to get them in high school, keeping tabs on the woman who was aging impossibly beautifully as you approached your senior year of college. You constantly traded reels that reminded you of each other, and sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if she picked up on the undertones of a few of the complimentary posts the two of you often exchanged.
There was no denying the crush you’d developed on the older woman, but you felt ridiculous even questioning if she’d maybe felt the same. You let yourself imagine it on occasion, though, especially in the past two years because of her separation from her ex-husband and the boys’ father, Vision. None of the 3 of them really kept in touch with the man due to the nature of their separation- he had somehow decided to cheat on the woman you now had a major crush on, a fact that confused you to no end, given her absolute beauty, intelligence, and kindness.
Your heart raced now as you spotted the twins waiting for you at the train station. They greeted you with wide smiles and tight hugs, their familiar laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. As they drove back to the Maximoff house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging and anticipation for the festive days ahead.
Despite the excitement, you couldn't shake off the nerves fluttering in her stomach. It had been years since you last saw Ms. Maximoff in person, and you worried about how much things might have changed. Would she still have that soft spot for you beyond your messages now that you were all grown up? Would you even be able to face her with this crushing admiration you’d developed as she grew more gorgeous with time? As they pulled into the driveway, you took a deep breath to steady yourself and clear your mind of the swirling questions.
The twins seemed to sense her anxiety. "Don't worry, Y/N," Billy said with a reassuring smile. "Mom's been looking forward to seeing you. She talks about you all the time."
Tommy chimed in, "Yeah, it's like you never left. She's got your favorite cookies baking right now." Their words helped, but your heart still pounded as they walked up to the door. When Ms. Maximoff opened it, her warm smile and open arms melted away half of your fears. In that moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.
Her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as your cheek pressed into her chest and your front against her own relieve you of the question of if her admiration for you had faded over the years. But this doesn’t shake the anxiety coursing through your veins. If anything, it feeds it, making you almost certain that this crush you had on her would be crippling over the week you’d be spending in her home.
As she pulled away, moving her tight grip to wrap around your elbows and hold you out to examine your matured face, her scent enveloped you, sending you flying straight into an almost drunken state.
Her fawn-like eyes meet your own as she lets out a deep sigh, speaking to you aloud for the first time in nearly three years. “Y/N, honey, you’ve grown up so much! Even prettier than the last time I saw you, too.” You’re searching desperately for a response to force out in our wavering voice when one of the boys speaks from behind you.
“Hey mom, nice to see you too!” One of the twins speaks from behind you- but from the sarcasm the comment is laced with, you’re sure it’s Billy. “Watch your tone, little man, I’m not against sending you to sit on the steps like before. I see you boys constantly, I miss my girl!” Wanda responds quickly, knowing just how to get the boy to remember his childlike fear of his mother’s discipline. You duck your head down in an attempt to cover up your deep blush at the title giggle at the antics and Wanda invites you to come into the house.
As you step into the Maximoff home, the familiar scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, instantly bringing back a flood of childhood memories. The warm, cozy atmosphere makes you feel a bit more at ease, and Wanda couldn't help but smile at the relaxation that graces your face.
The twins, eager to catch up, quickly grabbed their bags and headed upstairs to put their stuff away. This left you alone with Ms. Maximoff, who enveloped her in another heartfelt hug. "It's so good to see you, hon," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "’Ive missed having you around here." She wraps one hand ever-so-gently around the bottom of your chin to caress your jaw, and you naturally lean into her touch. When you finally remember to respond, you say “I’ve missed it here so much, Ms. Maximoff. Thank you so much again for having me, it means more than you could know that you’re still so welcoming. This really does feel like a second home to me.” Wanda slightly tilts her head and allows her eyes to linger on you one last second before bringing her hand away and grabbing your bags out of your hand.
It was then that you looked out into the living room you’d spent so many hours in with the red-haired woman, quietly bonding in your senior year of high school while the boys slept before their big games when you slept over in preparation. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Much more you now.” You note aloud as you notice the changes to furniture and decor she’s made, assumingly since her divorce, but more importantly noticing the stools you two used to sit on while she taught you all sorts of crafts and skills, and how they seemed to be the only remaining parts of the original room that kept their place in the center of the house.
You feel your nerves finally start to dissipate as the boys came down and they all moved to the kitchen once Ms. Maximoff dropped your bags in the guest room next to her own. You help the boys’ mom set out the cookies and make some tea while you all chat about everything from your college experiences to fond memories of your shared childhood adventures. Ms. Maximoff’s kind eyes and attentive listening made you feel more at home than ever before.
As the evening wound down, the boys headed upstairs to their childhood rooms, eager to pick out a few cherished items to bring back to school. They rummaged through old clothes and coats for the upcoming winter season, laughing and reminiscing about their younger days.
Meanwhile, you stayed downstairs with their mom to help clean up. You worked side by side in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of dinner. The familiar routine brought a comforting sense of normalcy, something you could almost see yourself doing every night with the woman. You remind yourself to snap right the fuck out of that quickly. As you washed dishes and put away leftovers, you began to catch up, just like you used to.
You talked about everything—college life, future plans, and the little things that made up your daily lives. Your conversation was filled with warmth and intense attentiveness from the older woman, a testament to the bond you had always shared. While you were sure now that she hadn’t grown to be less fond of you in the couple of years you’d spent apart, there was certainly something different about the way she looked at you now. Her gaze seemed more heavy now, lingering longer and often wandering a bit, the ventures so slight you thought you were imagining them.
“Remind me again how old you are now, honey?” Wanda speaks out as she dries her hands and grabs a wine glass for herself. “I’m 22 now, Ms. Maximoff.” She grabs another glass at the end of your sentence. “Well then, call me Wanda, sweetheart! You’re a big girl now, yeah?” she insists as she turns around to face you again with two bottles of wine in her hand, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. “Which one?” She straightens her elbows out for you to read the labels, and you’re grateful for the distraction from your reddened cheeks she provides you with.
“Um…… this one, on the left.” You point to a sauvignon blanc randomly, not too knowledgeable about wine. “Good choice.” She winks and brings the glasses, a corkscrew, and the bottle and you two make your way to the family room. The room was slightly dark now, lit only by a few warm-toned decorative lamps sprinkled throughout the room.
You take a seat on one of the remaining stools from your fond childhood memories with the woman, adjacent from the cushion Wanda takes her seat on, her legs curled with her heels under herself while she rests on the armrest of the sofa and leans her side into it. Her sweater falls off of her shoulder, exposing her collarbone as she lets her hair down from the clip it was in.
You watch in awe as the long scarlet waves cascade down in such a fluid movement around her shoulders, bringing your hand to your mouth to bite down on your index fingernail to keep from letting out the sigh that was now crawling up your throat at the sight.
However, it becomes so much more impossible to restrain yourself when the older woman leans forward and grips your wrist harshly, bringing your hand back down to your lap, and then swiping the proof of your former actions off of your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb.
“You really shouldn’t mess up your nails like that, honey. Nasty habit.” Her voice came out lower and with a bit more of a rasp than usual, the late hour of the night affecting her tone. “Sorry, Ms. Maximoff.” You try to chuckle it off, dumbfounded by her simple gestures. “Hey, what did I say? Call me Wanda.” She gives you a stern look, similar to the one she gave Billy when he quipped at her in the doorway of the home upon your arrival.
“Right. I’m sorry, Wanda.” You draw out the delivery of her name, and the way the green of her eyes is overcome by her growing pupils sends goosebumps all through your skin and a shiver down your spine. “Good girl.” Before either of you could react to what she’d just said, she followed her praise up with a simple question, “Well, we can’t let this go to waste can we?” Gesturing to the bottle of wine, you giggle and shake your head.
You watch a bit too closely as she uncorks and pours out two glasses of the wine, your eyes tracing each movement of her slender fingers as if you were trying to save them in your mind in perfect detail. She hands you a glass and goes back to her reclined pose before swirling the liquid in her own glass and taking a sip. You again pay intense attention to the way her defined jaw appears impossibly sharper than usual as she drinks, the way her eyes close in bliss at the taste.
“Oh, you always were my smart girl, Y/N. You picked out a great one. Drink up, hon.” With that, she grabs the tv remote and turns it on. “What would you like to watch? I know you used to love the classics, but I’m sure you’ve developed a more evolved taste recently.”
You ponder on the question for a moment and stare back in your own distorted reflection in the wine that rests in your hand below you. “Well, it’s been out for a while, but I have been loving Orange is the New Black. If you’ve already seen it, that’s alright, you can pick!”
“Oh, I’ve seen it, but I love it. Let’s pick a good one.” She clicks through seasons and episodes before picking one she likes. You sip your drink and can’t help but hum in appreciation of the taste. Wanda’s head snaps towards the direction of your own at the sound, swiping her tongue over her teeth before practically sighing out, “You like that?” You stammer out an affirmative answer, flustered at just the sound of her voice.
You both return your attention to the tv screen, hoping for some relief from your blushing state. You find no help from the show, turning towards it to find the two main characters in an intense argument stop what they’re saying and pull each other into an intense, rough kiss… and it only leads to more. You turn slowly away from the screen and towards Wanda, desperate to see how she was reacting to the scene unfolding in front of you, but you’re met with her gaze already on you. She doesn’t look away. If anything, she analyzes you more closely, getting a feel for all of your tells, every way you’re reacting to the girls on the screen, the desperation in your pleading eyes that say everything you’re too shy to say yourself.
It’s her who finally breaks her gaze, looking back up to the screen. You take this opportunity to continue looking at her, hypnotized by her beauty, which was now illuminated by the glow of the television. She lets it happen for 5 seconds longer before snapping back to you.
“It’s rude to stare, yknow?” Dumbfounded, you reply, “Then why is it ok when you do it?” You regret it as quickly as it comes out of your mouth. She rises to her feet and places her now empty glass down on the table with such force you thought it might shatter. She takes the few steps it takes to be standing close enough to feel the heat radiating off of your skin and grabs your jaw harshly.
“Watch your mouth.” And then she’s walking off to her bedroom. You’re truly shocked as you down the rest of your glass, clear both of them as they’re now empty, and turn off the tv. You sit out in the room for a bit longer, just gathering the courage to walk down the hallway to enter your room that shared a wall with Wanda’s. You finally do, your steps not making a sound as you approach the room because of how slowly you’re going. You finally take a seat on your bed and scroll through varying socials when you start to hear… buzzing?
After being frozen in your tracks, you walk up to the wall that you share with Wanda… and that’s definitely buzzing. And moaning. You know you should walk away from the wall and respect Wanda’s privacy, she probably didn’t even know you were in the room yet because of how quietly you entered it, but you seemed to be magnetically pulled towards it. You were about to snap out of your trance when you heard something awfully familiar. Was she saying your name?
You press your ear to the wall. You hear her let out a noise a bit more broken and higher pitched than the rest of the string of moans you’d heard her emit before… and then nothing. You were left to wonder what it really was that you’d heard her say just moments before, sounding so similar to your name. But you must’ve been imagining that.
You get in bed, replaying the short sounds you’d heard minutes before in your head and wishing you’d cleaned up and made your way to the room just a bit more quickly, but almost simultaneously glad you didn’t- you didn’t need that kind of delusion fuel. You drift off to the memory of the older woman’s blissful sounds.
………………………………………………………………………… Thats all for part/night 1 of this new story! Please let me know if you like where it’s headed so far and if there’s anything you’d like to see in the following parts :)
tags: @ahintofchaos @bees-for-brains @scxrlett-wid0w
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11
Word Count- 3.8k
Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending
“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”
I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?
It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak.
Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.
Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket.
I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me.
“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.
“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.
I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”
Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.
“Really Stefana, I’m good.”
Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it.
I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”
Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be.
After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way.
“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered.
At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up. It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it.
“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.
“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time.
“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”
I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room.
“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”
“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment.
I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me.
“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me.
“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.
Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong.
We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”
I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”
Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”
I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”
Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”
“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”
This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”
I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”
Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions.
“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”
At the sound of footsteps, I stand up.
“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”
Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.
“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”
I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.
“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.
“Ya whatever, Demon.”
—
It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.
Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them.
“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else.
“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.
“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.
“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks.
Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it, he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life.
“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline.
Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.
I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”
They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”
I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”
“You knew?!’’
“What?”
“Excuse me?”
“Bro!”
They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”
“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”
“Y/N!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”
They think about this for a moment before nodding.
“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.
“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”
We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.
I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”
I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”
Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years.
Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention.
He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look.
“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.
“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?”
Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”
—
“There he is!”
I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution.
“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.
“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight.
After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.
Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.
“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon.
I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm.
“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear.
A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest.
“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.
I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.
“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”
Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort.
“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”
I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.
“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.
“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes.
Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human.
Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”
“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now.
“I’m helping him.”
I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.
“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder.
“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”
“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.
“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.
“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.
—-
Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”
“What? What is it,” Ric asks.
“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”
I shake my head in denial.
“Well, they have to.”
Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”
“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”
Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.
“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”
Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew.
I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open.
I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy.
“Y/N?”
I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers.
“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”
—
“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder.
Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy.
“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”
I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.”
The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”
I nod and thank him.
“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”
My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”
The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves.
Great who the hell is going to drive me home?
—
I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily.
At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.
“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.
“Is everything ok,” I question.
The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?
“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.
“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle.
“Please… what are you talking about?”
The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”
My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.
“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”
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The Company
Peeping Tom
Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)
Chapter 6
3,585 Words
(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)
You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward.
“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”
“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”
“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”
“That’s true.”
“What about asking your father for one of his?”
“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”
“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”
“Sounds good.”
“Any requirements?”
“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”
“Okay, I’ll try my best.”
“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”
“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”
“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”
“Let’s see how it goes.”
IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”
“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”
“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”
“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”
“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”
“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”
“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Would that be all, sir?”
“Yes.”
“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”
“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.”
The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.
————
You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news.
You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that.
Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from.
Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum.
After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt.
“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”
“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.”
————
Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent.
Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body.
“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”
“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”
You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.
“Is that all you needed?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”
“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”
You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”
“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door.
Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.”
You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”
“Lies.”
“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”
“If that’s true, how would you know?”
“I heard the two of you doing it.”
“No one is going to believe you.”
“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”
“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.
“Alright, do it.”
“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.”
You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.”
You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”
You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.
Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”
“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”
When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer.
With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”
“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.
“How did you do that?”
You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”
“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.”
“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”
“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”
“No, he won’t.”
“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”
“Really? They said that?”
“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”
“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”
Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”
“Nothing, forget about it.”
“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes.
Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”
You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”
Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you.
“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”
Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”
“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”
She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”
“Jealous? What for?”
“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”
“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”
“Ehh?”
“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”
Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot.
“What did you have in mind?”
“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.
Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.
She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”
“What?”
Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed.
“Wait… what are you doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”
Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.
“Okay, I understand.”
“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”
Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.
Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”
You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”
“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”
“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt.
“Take your hands off.”
“But…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt.
“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”
Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking.
“Spread them more!”
She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”
“Hot. You’re making me hard.”
“Really? I’m making you hard?”
“Yeah. Want to see?”
Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”
You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight.
Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”
“Of course,” you say with a grin.
Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”
“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”
“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.
Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”
Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”
“Glad to see you know your place.”
You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”
“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”
You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.
“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.”
She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.”
“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”
“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.”
You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”
“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button.
“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.
You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.”
Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste.
You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come.
You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”
Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her.
“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”
You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”
“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again.
Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”
Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”
Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck.
You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”
You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back.
“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!”
You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it.
Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.”
She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”
The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.
—————
You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”
“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”
“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”
“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”
“Jealous?”
“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”
“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her.
You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment.
Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”
“Yes.”
“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”
“You mean your groupmates?”
“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”
#kpop smut#male reader#jennie#jennie smut#blackpink smut#kim jennie#TM smut#kpop male reader#kpop reader#kpop idol smut#kpop x reader#idol x male reader#girl idol smut#reader x idol#idol x reader#idol smut#blackpink x reader#defloration idol smut#defloration smut#g idol first time smut#first time idol smut#the company series#the company
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Saw you take requests!! Can you do a fluffy Wednesday x Shape shifter!Reader (no smut please) where it's Wednesday's writing time but she can't think of ideas so reader turns into a cat and curls up on Wednesday's lap? Basically helping Wednesday by making sure Wednesday can't get up until she writes a chapter. Thanks!
Orange kitty - drabble
Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Words: 0.8k
A/n: i feel like we as a fandom haven’t been putting the orange cat x black cat trope in enough fics. this is me advocating for orange cat!r
“I feel your eyes on me, (Y/n).”
“I’m not allowed to look at my friend anymore?”
“It’s distracting. You’re inhibiting me from writing.” Wednesday isn’t fully lying. She just doesn’t add how you give her an odd feeling. An odd feeling she doesn’t like.
“Aww, do I make you nervous, Wens?” You laugh, deciding to ignore the glare she sends your way
“Keep talking and I’ll remove your voice box.”
“Please, I think you’d miss me too much” You roll your eyes, stretching on Wednesday’s bed
You turn into a cat as per Thing’s request, and you two start to play tag around Wednesday and Enid’s shared room. Thing happily bragged that you and him were better friends once. His hubris only resulted in Wednesday taking away his favorite lotions for an entire week.
The Addams girl huffs when she, yet again, makes a mistake on her typewriter. This was unlike her. The tiny trash can under her desk was nearing being full only after one or two hours of her failed attempts at writing. Wednesday put her hands in her lap after she realized her words only became futile
The abrupt stop of clacking keys makes you turn your head, giving Thing the perfect opportunity to tag you back on Enid’s bed. You quickly turn human again with almost a cartoon-ish pop, and ask Thing if Wednesday was allergic to cats
“She’s not, why do you ask?” He signs
“Do you think she’d kill me if I sat on her lap?” You sign back, not wanting Wednesday to hear
“As a human, most definitely. But if you were a cat maybe she’d tolerate you. No promises, though” Thing somehow shrugs using his thumb and pinkie finger as arms. God, you loved the weird appendage
“I can hear you two talking. I’d prefer if you’d leave me in silence.”
“Writers block?”
“No, I’m merely thinking of the correct words to use.”
“Maybe you should ask Enid for help. The woman can reach over the Twitter character limit in like… three seconds. Two if she’s really excited”
“Recommend such a horrid idea again and I’ll release you in my pen of hellhounds.”
“We both know I’d win” You cockily smirk, again ignoring what looks to be annoyance on Wednesday’s face. Then again, she always looked annoyed
“Your hubris is laughable. Let’s see how you suffice when your digestive system is ripped open.”
“Tempting, but I’d rather stay here with you”
You can only assume Thing listens with watchful… fingers? You execute your plan to him, and a quick pinkie-promise indicates he gets to bury you if Wednesday decides to kill you after the stunt you’re about to pull
“Hey, Wens?” The Addams doesn’t show any form of talking but you decide to keep going
“Did you know people say cats can lessen anxiety?”
The Addams hums in acknowledgement, so you continue
“Well, I don’t exactly believe it”
“And why is that.” Wednesday sighs. Sometimes she wonders why she indulges in you
“I dunno, just seems fake. I was wondering if you’d do an experiment with me?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Great! Thanks, Wens” You give Thing a quick wink after turning into a cat and hopping up onto her desk. Turning your head to the side as if you were asking a question, you looked at Wednesday for an answer
You were crazy, but not crazy enough to do something to make Wednesday hate you
For some reason, the Addams girl doesn’t even have a second chance to think before scooting back her chair. You’re about to jump into her lap with a paw over the edge of her desk, but you glance up to make sure Wednesday was sure. You receive a small nod
The action is enough to make you whisper a small “thank you” but it only comes out as a small meow
You circle around her lap for a good area to lay, and you quickly take your spot with a tiny smile that makes your eyes close. Wednesday scoots her chair back in, and she has absolutely no idea what to do.
Only when you start to purr a shiver goes up her spine. The vibrations are light, and something about you happily laying on her lap makes you chip away at Wednesday’s walls the tiniest bit. She contemplates where to put her hands before Thing scurries on top of you to scratch behind your ear. Wednesday shoots him a deathly glare in return, but your favorite Addams (don’t tell Wednesday) stays put
As if showing Wednesday how to pet a cat, Thing gets off of your back and points a finger in your direction. Hesitantly, the Addams girl copies the actions Thing showed her
And you? You were having an amazing time. Wednesday’s fingers were cold but every stroke of her hand was calculated. She took note of which spots you purred louder, and continued her movements
Fuck you and your ability to get what you want, Wednesday thinks. Of course your smug ass knew cats lessened anxiety. Of course.
But Wednesday can’t help being addicted to your tiny purrs and vibrations
With her left hand fondling your ear and her right on her typewriter, she decides maybe a cat could be arranged in her novel.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#wednesday (2022)#wednesday x reader#wednesday x y/n#wednesday x you#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams#thing addams#enid sinclair
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𓅨 How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: Chapter One
How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: After saving a strange man from a fishbowl cage, you earn yourself a favor. When you cash in said favor, you don’t realize that you and the man aren’t on the same page on what you need from him.
Warnings: None.
To Note: Morpheus x Afab!Reader
Word Count: ~2.4k
Masterlist | Next
"So..." you drag out the word, not really knowing what to do now that you've gone all kamikaze on your employer and broken out the strange man locked up in the basement of Fawny Rig. "I didn’t expect to get this far in my plan and have absolutely no idea what to do now..." You look around, trying to figure out where you are. Certainly not in that damp old basement. Had something witchy happened when you shattered that glass prison? "And where are we?"
"You are within a dream," his voice is deep and rich, perfectly fitting his out-of-this-world beauty. Your eyes draw back to his face, and you are more than glad that he is now wearing clothes.
"A dream, gotcha... how did we get here?" An obsidian eyebrow rises, and his lips twitch. He finds amusement in your false bravado of nonchalance. He can feel how unnerved and stressed you are.
"Did he not tell you?" You make a face at the strange, beautiful man. "I am Dream of the Endless. Prince of Stories, Master of Dreams and Nightmares, and Lord of the Dreaming. You may call me Morpheus."
"Like the Sandman?" Why do all mortals call him that? Either way, Morpheus nods at you.
"You have freed me from my confines, Y/N. I owe you a great debt that you may call upon whenever you wish."
"A what? All I did was the right thing, no need for dramatics," you tell him. "You don’t owe me anything… though it would be nice if you could, like, zip me on over to my house? I don’t think I’ll be too welcome back at the manor, you know, kinda broke you out and everything..."
Morpheus tilts his head to the side at your rambles, surprised by your lack of greed and intrigued by your apparent belief that he owes you nothing for releasing him. Quite a peculiar mortal you are. Morpheus decides to observe your dreams more closely when he returns to his realm.
"You shall be returned to your home upon waking," Morpheus promises, observing the expression on your face. He had told you that you were in a dream.
"Okay, um, are you going to be okay? I mean, I don’t exactly know anything about being an Endless or whatever, but you were stuck in there for a while."
"You needn’t worry for me, Y/N." You open your mouth to argue, but how could you not worry when he looks so damn skinny and pale? Sand swirls around your head, and a cloud of sleepiness hits you.
"Uh, Mom, no, you don’t need to set me up with the son of your friend..." you trail off, massaging your forehead while hoping your mother finally gets the message that you don’t need her help finding love. Your love life is your own. Simple as that. They meddled enough in your youth to the point where you keep mum about most of your current life.
"But Y/N, he’s a banker, well off, and has a nice house! It’s even got a pool!" You pinch your forehead and tap your foot on the floor, counting to ten in your head so you don’t go off on your mother for trying to set you up for what has to be the thousandth time. "If you marry him, you’ll never have to worry about a single thing again! All your problems would be solved!"
"No, Mom, no." You repeat to her. "I don’t need you finding me a husband, okay! You’ve tried this a million times before and none of them have ended well! Besides! I’ve—I’ve—I’ve already gotten married!"
You have no idea where that came from because you most certainly have not gotten married. You haven’t even been in a relationship for at least three years! Not that your family or friends would know that, but that’s beside the point. You just told your mother you got married, and she will sink her teeth into that like a dog with a bone.
"MARRIED!?!" She practically screams over the phone. "You got married without telling me or your father!? Without inviting us!?" You hold your phone away from your ear as your mother calls for your father in distress, shrieking about your complete and utter betrayal.
"Honestly, this is why I keep to myself," you complain to yourself as she throws an absolute conniption to your father. There’s a lot of back and forth between your mother and father before your father takes over the phone call.
"So you got married..." He doesn’t sound upset, just tired. Most likely from your mother’s antics. You massage your temple.
"Uh, courthouse wedding?" you offer, knowing that your friends and family would buy that excuse. "I didn’t want any frou-frou or excitement, just a... civil ceremony. Didn’t even wear a fancy outfit. Just signed papers and was done with it." He grunts in acknowledgment. You take after him in that aspect.
"Well, your mother is demanding you come visit with your partner," he sighs out. You inwardly cringe. "And before you say you’re too busy, she already threatened to make plans to visit you, so you can’t escape this." Shit.
"She’s not relenting on this?" you ask, despite knowing the answer.
"No." Your shoulders droop.
"Okay, okay, tell her we’ll be up in like, a week." You relent with a heavy sigh. "I’ve got to—I've got to figure things out first, but… we’ll be up." Your father says his goodbyes, and ending the call, you stare at the wall across the room in horror.
You just told your mother that you were married.
You are, in fact, not married.
And you just promised to bring said spouse up to your parents' house in a week.
You have one week to find someone willing to be your spouse.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
There is no way you are going to drag your friends into this mess. No way. You don’t have the money to go and pay someone off to act as your spouse, and you wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing someone like that into your parents' home anyway. That leaves you with one other option that you are mulling over.
Morpheus. Deity, or Endless, whatever he had called himself. He surely has the time to help little ole you out for a weekend after you busted him from his cage. He did say that he owed you. You would consider this payment. But how exactly do you go about summoning an Endless?
"Okay, um, Morpheus?" you ask out loud, having no idea what you’re doing but figuring that if he is as all-powerful as he seems, he would probably hear you. "I think I’m ready to cash in that favor now, but I don’t really know how to contact you? So uh, yeah, if you can hear me I’d be grateful if we could talk soon. Like really soon."
You stand in your apartment for a few moments, not really knowing what else to do but waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. So you take a deep breath and head for bed. Only when you fall asleep that night, you find yourself standing in a place you have never visited before, or even remotely recognize. Disoriented, you spin in a circle of confusion until your eyes catch sight of a throne perched above winding stairs, and the very being you need to talk to sitting in said throne.
"Oh, okay, this works too," you murmur to yourself, still wondering where exactly you are. Morpheus regards you calmly, taking in your appearance fully for the first time since he regained his full power. You are such a... mortal. There is nothing special about you, but perhaps that is because Morpheus has only ever seen you in a state of stress. Yet you are the very reason his realm and dreams of the universe have returned to normal, and that makes him intrigued. He rises from his seat and slowly walks down the stairs.
"Hello," he greets, his voice a low timbre you find far more attractive than necessary. You blink at him and hold up a hand, giving him a small wave because what else are you going to do? Perhaps you should bow? Or curtsy? While you try to figure out what decorum is appropriate, the Endless comes to a stop in front of you. "You wished to speak with me? I will fulfill my debt to you. What is it you require?"
Right to the point. That helps you because he is unbearably gorgeous and you feel entirely inadequate in his presence. A few days shouldn’t be too hard, then you would never have to see him again. You could just tell your parents it didn’t work out and you got a divorce! Clearing your throat, you gaze up at the Endless with a nonchalant look.
"Please be my husband," you state boldly. For a few moments, silence stretches between you, and finding it uncomfortable, you speak again. "I need you to be my husband. My mother won’t stop harassing me about getting married, and I really need her off my back. She’s making me visit for the weekend, and I can’t show up without..." You trail off.
"A husband," Morpheus finishes for you, unblinking at your demand. It is a rather simple demand for the great debt he owes. Nonetheless, he will do so to his best ability. "Very well, I shall be your husband." The relief on your face catches the Endless off guard as the stress slips free from your facial features and you physically relax.
"Oh, thank you, thank you," you breathe out. "You have no idea what she is like, and I just need her off my back about this. She keeps trying to set me up with these mediocre guys I’ve never met before. She doesn’t understand that I don’t want or need her help in that... department..." While you trail off, Lucienne comes striding into the throne room.
"My lord, your presence is requested—" She pauses mid-sentence at the sight of you standing so intimately close to Morpheus. "I was not aware you had an audience, shall I return?"
"No," Morpheus replies, his eyes not once straying from yours. "We have finished our business." You tilt your head to the side, wondering what will happen now.
"So should I leave?" you ask, looking around in confusion. Wherever you are is positively beautiful! But you have no idea how you ended up there in the first place.
"That will not be necessary," he reassures you, "I am sure you are curious about this place. It is only right that you are shown our realm." You blink at his word choice, thinking he is referring to himself and the lady. "Matthew, will you please introduce Y/N to the realm?"
A raven pops up from behind Morpheus’ shoulder and cocks its head at you.
"Sure! Hi! I’m Matthew, Morpheus’ raven!" the bird chitters, much to your surprise. Then again, this is a dream! Dream of the Endless. You should probably try to figure out more about him.
"Uh, sounds good, lead the way," you say, following the talking raven out of the throne room while Morpheus and Lucienne have a stare-down you are not privy to. The moment you are out of earshot, Lucienne's eyebrow goes up.
"May I ask who that was, sir?"
"My wife," Morpheus answers simply.
"Your... wife," Lucienne repeats slowly, making sure she heard correctly. "And when did this happen?"
"Three minutes ago." Three minutes ago?? Lucienne is going to need to hear how exactly this came to be. Immediately.
"...and that’s Fiddler’s Green. He’s a major arcana and has some awesome views if I do say so myself!" Matthew finishes, puffing out his chest proudly. "The whole place got an upgrade since you broke Morpheus out of his fishbowl."
"It certainly has to be the most beautiful place I’ve ever been," you respond in agreement, your mind still reeling from the sights and beings you have seen on the tour. "I—I had no idea what would happen when I set him free, but seeing all this… I’m really glad I did."
"Yeah, don’t be surprised if you have random dreams and nightmares walking up to you to thank you," Matthew echoes, fluttering down from a nearby tree. "They’ve been watching their home disintegrate for over a hundred years, so you breaking the boss out is kinda a big deal to them."
"Is... that why they kept staring at me?" you ask, tilting your head to the side while remembering how you had been stared at in the village. It had just about given you a complex before Matthew guided you away from the town.
"Oh yeah, you’re kinda famous here..." the raven says before stilling and going silent. Clearly, something has distracted him because the bird hasn’t shut up since he started showing you around. You carefully watch as Matthew is silent for a few more moments before shaking his head and ruffling his wings. "Okay! The boss is inviting you for dinner… not entirely sure how that works in a dream… and wants me to bring you to some palace staff."
"Why bring me to the palace staff?" you question as the raven takes flight again.
"Cause he wants to impress you..." The moment Matthew mutters those words, the poor bird squawks midair in a ruffle of black feathers and nearly tumbles from the sky. You catch him before he hits the ground.
"What?"
"I mean he’s trying to introduce you to everyone and everything, ya know?" Matthew blurts out in a rush of words, still jilted by the blast of annoyance and ire he’d received from his lord very much intruding on his thoughts and sight. "Don’t you want to know what it’s like living in a palace? I’ve seen the baths and man if I had my body back..."
Ignoring whatever had ruffled Matthew’s feathers, you right him in your arms and lift him to your shoulder while you walk back towards the looming palace.
"I’m sure you could still enjoy a bath, Matthew," you reassure him. "Birds take baths, don’t they? Granted, not extravagant ones, but still..."
"My point is," Matthew begins, clutching your shoulder with his feet, "we’re trying to be good hosts and the palace staff want to make sure everything is perfect for you. Don’t ladies like being pampered?"
You look down at the clothes you are wearing in contemplation. Well, the raven has a point. Jeans and a t-shirt aren’t exactly worthy of Dream of the Endless, are they?
"Uh, I’ve never been pampered in a dream, but I suppose I could find out?" you offer. "I’d hate to dismiss the hospitality."
Date Published: 12/4/24
Last Edit: 12/4/24
Masterlist | Next
#morpheus x reader#morpheus#the sandman netflix#dream the endless#lord morpheus#dream the endless x reader#sandman x reader#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#the sandman
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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 19/July/2024
Some really fun scenes to write this week!
One of them being a major villain POV, which I just had a blast with, hehe! :D
As I was writing, I wanted to make sure this villain’s main strength was obvious, and how much it contrasts with some of vampires, who definitely don’t have this strength. *cough*A, N, and M*cough*
Adaptability.
Having someone who can adapt and react to situations, especially ones they are SO unfamiliar with, incredibly fast is a surprisingly strong—and terrifying—trait for this villain and something a bit different! But they really do it very well :D
I also got started on the scenes for the different Units, and the MC gets to interact with a different Commanding Agent of the three available depending on which one gets rolled up in the random selection for that scene.
Writing the different ways those characters approach those moments—all different but with the view of a leader—definitely shows why they were picked from their teams to be the ones in charge! It was great fun writing the choice sets for the MC and working out how these characters would respond to that, especially some of the more intense choices!
I also FINALLY made the very last decision on the new stats that are going in that relate to your character’s new role as an Agent! It’s taken a looong time as well as a lot of reworking, but I’m finally happy with them and think they will have impact needed. Stats aren’t really my thing, so I wanted a selection that would actually add and enhance the choices and variations rather than just simply adding in things to add points.
Also got those coded in, as we’re coming up to the section where you start really pushing forward on those! The stats your character has gathered so far will still play into narrative, it’s just these will help add a different element for the more Agency-focused career your character is now a part of!
So yeah, a seriously fun week of really getting to some awesomely fun scenes with characters I can’t wait for you to interact with and meet, hehe! :D
It looks like we’re still on schedule for the late July/early August release of Chapter Two in the demo! Will keep you updated on how that is going too as I get comments/edits back.
Hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3
#the wayhaven chronicles#interactive fiction#twc detective#unit bravo#romance#vampires#update#twc book 4#the wayhaven chronicles book 4#villain romance
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a lover's redemption | chapter 1
chapter 1. way down we go
pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader
genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)
summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.
word count ↠ 10k
18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).
taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3
notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx
14th September 2003
“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!”
Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh.
“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going.
Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs.
“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”
“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always.
“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”
“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.
“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”
Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”
“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you.
“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.
Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.
Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.
“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it was.”
“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”
“Do I have to?” you grumbled.
Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?”
Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”
“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”
“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.”
“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs.
As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back.
“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand.
You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared.
“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”
At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled.
“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.
Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand.
Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.
“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward.
Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did.
“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”
6 years later 17th July 2009
Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.
He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.
“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”
Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”
“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”
Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.
“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”
“What do you mean?”
Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.
“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”
You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”
Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.
Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”
“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”
You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”
With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”
“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”
Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.”
You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”
“I think so.”
“Lightning… is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel.
“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint.
“What does it mean?”
“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”
You looked up, frowning.
He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”
“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.
Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”
You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”
He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”
Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond.
Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.
“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”
Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork.
“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry.
He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”
“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”
“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”
“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.
“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”
“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."
“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”
Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.
“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”
Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.”
“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”
Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”
Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”
You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.
The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.
Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.
Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad.
As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late.
A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.
Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it — your mothers heart wrenching scream.
At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home.
present day
“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”
Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”
“Eat in.”
“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”
“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat.
“Ah, you remember my name.”
“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”
“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”
He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.
You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”
He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”
You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”
Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”
“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”
“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”
“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.
“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.
“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.”
“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him.
Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.
“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece.
“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.
“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore.
You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.
Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”
This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”
“How’s your grandma?”
“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you.
Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend.
“How’s her gallery?”
“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”
Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.”
At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”
“With the cafe?”
“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.
“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.
“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated.
Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.”
This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully.
But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.
“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”
You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”
There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”
“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”
“I know.” There’s another soft silence.
“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.
Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”
You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”
“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”
“Moni, what is it–”
“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”
Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often.
“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”
Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”
She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.
“I love you too. Bye now.”
Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her.
In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…
Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are.
After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.
Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere.
You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car.
As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.
He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”
Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.
“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.
“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”
She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”
You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.
“Uh, Y/N?”
“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.
Dani smiles. “Long day?”
“Something like that.”
Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”
“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.
Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.
Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house.
Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom.
But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…
Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house. It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.
So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—
Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms.
The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back.
The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.
Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor.
Now that’s not your blood.
Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door.
Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are.
Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.
Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.
“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”
Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.
Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you.
“Y/N, I’m sorry.”
Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.
Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.
“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”
“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”
The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.
Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”
Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.
“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”
“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”
“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”
“Seojun, what—“
The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist.
“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.”
You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him.
He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”
The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go.
Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.
He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.
Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.
From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.
He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.
Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their faces.
There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.
As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–
“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”
You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.
“...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.
“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does.
Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”
Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.
“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.
Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”
“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.”
Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?”
“Yes, she knows nothing.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.
“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”
As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly.
“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.
When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin.
You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened.
“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”
Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”
“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.
She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”
“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you.
A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall.
“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”
Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.
But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.
Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you.
His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over.
“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.
Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.
“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger.
“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.
“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.
His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.
“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face.
“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“
Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor.
Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin.
“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would.
“Now tell me, what do you know?”
He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body.
Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body.
So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.
“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun.
Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.
You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds.
It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar.
“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.
Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.
“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.
At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.
But you don’t. You physically can’t.
Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so.
Then they start searching your pockets.
… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.
First your cardigan pockets. Empty.
… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.
Then your front jeans pockets. Empty.
… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.
Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.
“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands.
You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know.
Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet.
The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you.
Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.
Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you.
“Sir!”
The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.
Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”
“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door.
“Liar.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.
Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”
“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”
Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly.
A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.
He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.
“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“
Bang.
“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson.
Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another.
“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”
Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from.
As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.
“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.
He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.
“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.
His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”
There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window.
Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease.
“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.
One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you.
He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”
Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body.
The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before.
Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.
His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.
At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”
Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.
Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood.
Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.
Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again.
Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun.
“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”
Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.
Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.”
Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.
Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks. “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.
Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.
“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”
“Then what?” Minjun rasps.
Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers.
“You’ll see.”
With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.
Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun.
Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone.
“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.
You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand.
Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.
“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.
Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his.
Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”
“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.
Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.
Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.
In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you.
Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink.
“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you.
Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”
Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.
Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”
A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe.
He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be.
In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you.
Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.
You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you.
He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”
Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”
Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.
Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”
Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you.
The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.
note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)
#park jimin#jimin fanfic#park jimin x reader#jimin x reader#pjm#jimin bts#bts jimin#bts x you#jimin imagine#jimin masterlist#jimin series#bts mafia#bts masterlist#jimin x you#jimin x oc#jimin fluff#jimin smut#jimin angst
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REVELBOO!! Drop another chapter about Swindle/Tarn/Metroplex and my life shall be yours
Tarn first, but I’ll try to at least type up a Metroplex update if I’m not too busy at my day job today
L.G. Fuad Pt 3
Tarn x Reader
• “Leave it,” he growls, before shifting to step on the Pet’s trailing leash before the sparkeater can get to the little organic. Not at all amused when you dart around, grabbing onto his other ped and staring at the Pet with wide eyes as it lunges, jaws snapping. “I said leave it. Nickel?” Where is she and why do you think he’s your protector? “Go find Nickel,” he adds, sliding his ped to nudge you away and only succeeding in knocking you sprawling. Now those big eyes are offended as you look up at him, like he did it on purpose.
• Ow. Gingerly getting to your feet and rubbing your hip, you move closer to his ped again even at the risk of getting knocked away again. Because that slavering abomination is going crazy trying to get at you. It’s yet to actually hurt you, aside from tearing your skin with its awful teeth, but you’re not interested in getting dragged around like a rag doll, because you’re almost certain it thinks you’re a toy. The one with the lovely voice and mask is waving a hand at you, trying to shoo you and growling when you pointedly climb up on top of his ped and sit down, clinging to his ankle. Because whether he likes it or not, he’s safe. Cause, no way are you getting out of sight of him even if he really doesn’t like you touching him. The rest of them besides the small blue one are scary. Not to mention a couple of them had made a sound suspiciously like laughter the last time that dog thing had gotten ahold of you and hadn’t bothered to help while you’d screamed your head off.
• Venting tiredly, he gives up and start walking, ignoring your startled noise as those tiny hands cling to him to stay on top of his ped. The Pet running around his legs snapping at the organic, hearing you cry out when it manages to catch you with its teeth. Bending, he picks you up and tries to examine the injury with a servo. It doesn’t look too bad, but your little arm is leaking as you swat at his servo, little face scrunched up and eyes also leaking now. “Nickel?” He calls out again, before carrying you to medbay. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mutters as you shove at his servos when he tries to tug your arm away from where you’re clutching it to your body. Just a tiny little gash and it’s not like it was his fault. Spouting your alien gibberish at him, your shoulders slump and you finally let him carefully grip your hand between two servos so he can examine the wound, unsettled by the feel of those tiny bones.
• Freezing and not even breathing, you watch the optics behind the mask narrow and hope he doesn’t accidentally crush your hand. Muttering nonsense at you in the lovely rumbling voice, he releases your hand and you cautiously prod at the ragged, shallow gash in the back of your arm, wondering if you should be more worried about space rabies or tetanus. Shifting on your hip in his palm, you flinch away from those red optics when they slide to you again. Feel a servo touch the top of your head, sliding down your spine in a surprisingly gentle touch. Petting you like a little kitten, because you’re the same as that horror to him. A pet. Not at all surprised to realize he’s taking you to the little blue robot. Or when she starts fussing at him on sight when he bends and just dumps you on the floor in an inelegant heap, escaping both of you at not quite a run. You startle when the blue one gently examines your arm, still fussing from the sound of it.
• Striding back to his quarters, he knows you’ll be back sooner or later. You keep coming back to him no matter how many times he gets rid of you. Hating that part of him enjoys the soft warmth of you in his hands, the almost Cybertronian expressions you make at him when he talks to you, knowing you don’t understand him. And you seem to appreciate music, so you’re not a savage at least. Rubbing his servos together, he remembers the feel of those tiny bones shifting with the slightest pressure and knowing how easily it’d be to break you. And why does that thought bother him just a little bit?
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Together again | Gojo Satoru
wc: 1282
warnings: MAJOR SPOILER WARNING, SPOILERS FOR SHIBUYA INCIDENT ARC AND MANGA, Chapter 236, mentions of pregnancy(literally one word), FEM!Reader, Wife reader — NOT PROOFREAD
(I didnt put an exact warning because it would literallt give away what happened)
Pairing: Husband!GojoxWife!Reader
desc: You meet with Gojo after two long months
He doesn't remember much, just a blink and he was back as his high school self. A female, hand on her hip, a curious expression written all over her face. Staring at him, she tilted her head. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”
Satoru Gojo wants to laugh, like this was all some cruel joke.
Here you were, in front of him after not having seen your face(though younger) in almost 2 months since the incident in Shibuya— where you died.
He partially blamed himself. He watched you during your last moments, and selfishly, he’s grateful he didn’t actually see your death. His wife, his one and only. He smiles, and laughes as he pulls you in by your waist into a hug. “My boy did so good,” you whisper, allowing him to dig his head further into your torso as you giggle, your own fingers curling in his hair.
You smell exactly the same, like home. A home he never got to give you.
After he’s done being whiny, and well, a child, he pouts, throwing his head back.
“Aw man this is awful!” He shouts, and you laugh. The person he doesn't realize sitting beside him speaks up.
Suguru. His best friend, the one he had to kill, the one that would keep him up at night. The one that—
“Guess you were wrong.” you giggle, and Suguru stares at the two of you like you were keeping a secret joke from him.
You point at him mischievously, “He was all like, when you die you die alone, to his students, but look at the reality of it— well not really reality but still!”
He whines, “(Y/N)!!!”
Suguru breaks the ice, “How was the king of curses?”
Satoru huffs, shaking his head with a half hearted grin. He nods his head so the side, the empty seat beside him— which you take, his hand taking yours while you sit
It’s cold, just like his.
The tip of his nose hits the back of your palm, his eyes are closed before opening halflidded, staring out into the floor. His eyes peer over the overly tinted glasses, responding, “That guy was too damn strong, and he wasn’t even trying.”
It was almost mumbled, like a child complaining. Still holding your hand, he looks at Suguru, “To be completely honest, I don’t think I would even be able win.. regardless if he had Megumi’s cursed technique or not. The guy had too much up his sleeve.”
Your free hand pats his arm, laughing loudly you shake him lightly with a coo, “It’s alright, you’re my loser anyways baby,” you say with pressed eyebrows and puckered lips, almost teasingly.
He rolls his eyes, biting your hand lightly.
“I gave everything I had. Just a little sad you guys weren't there to support me, maybe you would’ve been able to give me a slap on the back to motivate me,” He jokes, shaking his head with closed eyes, imagining Suguru and yourself in the crowd of students.
“I’m glad that he was the one to kill me.” He confessed.
Somebody stronger than me. He wanted to say.
“It’s kind of gross hearing that from you, Gojo. You sound like a samurai general.”
You’re laugher bubbles up from your throat, tears forming as you turn back feom your seat.
“Kento, you’ll never change, will you?” You laugh, watching Satoru smack Nanami on the head multiple times, ruffling his hair in the process. You get up, releasing Satoru’s hand to sit in the seat besides Nanami. Smiling as the seat behind you is now empty.
Shoko.
It was for her, she was the last of the group, and you hope she wouldn't be here for a while.
“I won’t justify him, but I’ll sympathize with you.. I guess..” he mumbles, causing you to slap him on the shoulder with no ill intent, laughter from his stoicness.
“Hey!” Satoru snaps back, and you reach over and pinch his cheek.
“What I’m trying to say is, it was a fitting way to go out, Gojo.”
“You should be morw polite to your Juniors.” You chastise Satoru.
“I was already nice enough to you!” He retorts, and you tilt your head with a smile. His hand takes yours that was clipped to his cheek back in his,
“What was it like for you guys in your last moments?”
You blink, looking around the room.
“It was kind of scary,” you start, and he clenches your hand slightly. He remembers how the two of you split, you pecked him on the cheek with a determined expression, clenching your fist you told him you would be back, before warping to Harajuku. It was the last time he woult see you conscious.
You had crossed paths with Mahito, and you had it under control, until you didn't. Your weak nature, strong virtue, Satoru told you these would get in the way of you becoming a sorcerer, but you would always brush him off, telling him, I’m fine.
But you couldn’t help it, seeing a small girl in the line of Mahito’s path of destruction. Your arm was the price to pay for her life.
And, maybe you had lost too much blood, you cant remember, it’s a blur, but Satoru remembers.
Your leg contorted in a way he coulf only asume was unfoxable, your arm missing, eye streaming blood, you were dead. But his six eyes said you were alive, that you both were. And he was hopeless, tued up by the prisom realm, watching your eyes dim, he watched you die.
“To be honest, I wanted to quit with Kento, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave you alone doing all this. I don’t regret it to the end,” you smile loving at him, and he feels like vomiting.
“I would do this a thousand times over if I got to be with you every time.” You tell him sweetly, and Nanami coughs, “Enough with the sappy shit.” He grumbles.
You laugh again, and stare at Suguru. He looks back at you, and you feel your lips curling back up into a brighter smile. The man who defected, the man who left you all, he was here, and with you all.
“Once,” all attention back to Nanami. “When I was discussing with Mei-san about where I should move, she told me to move North to become someone new, and to move south to stay the person you are. Naturally, I chose South. I think it’s ironic how I died while betting on my future. But it wasn’t too bad because of Haibara.”
Haibara grins, “Aw! You’re too kind!”
“I see..” Satoru says, and you squeeze his hand back. His head snaps upward, looking right in front of him to Yaga, his voice as annoying as ever, “Yo Yaga! I thought you said no sorcerer dies without regrets!”
You laugh, and he laughs back, the room filled with laughter, Riko, Kuroi, Kento and Yu, Suguru, even Yaga.
“Now I’m hoping this isn’t a dream.” He confesses, while standing up, and you smile.
“It’s not, ya big loser!”
You shout, standing up from your chair and throwing yourself over it, crushing him. He falls back onto the ground, and Suguru jumps on top of you, Yu crushing him as Satoru wheezes, and you see him smirk.
“Welcome back!” You grin, Suguru’s face smushed next to your own. Haibara’s chin resting in between the two of yours.
He takes in the scene in front of him, everybody he’s loved all together, and finally, his arms wrap around the three of you, and he’s just so happy, that he doesn’t even Think about going back.
CLEAR MINDSET THIS IS MY REALITY NO ONE TELLS ME OTHERWISE SHUSH
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#jjk#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#satoru x reader#jjk 236#husband gojo#gojo x wife reader#teen gojo x reader#satoru gojo angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru angst#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader angst#gojo x reader fluff
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Treasures and Tragedies
Series: One Piece
Chapter: One Shot
Word Count: 7476
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)
It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...
You wanted to hide. It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide. You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see. Just in case someone were to make their final mistake. And you knew then something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right. Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat. The man was a space heater. Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile. But that was the thing. You couldn’t get warm to save your life.
You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom. If he asked, you got up to pee. Nothing to bring attention to yourself. Nothing he would ask questions about. Everything would be fine. But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life. Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly. And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too. You knew it. Deep down in your heart, you knew. You were getting sick.
And in your throat. And your lungs. And anything else that decided to reject its existence. If it could hurt, it did. And it was utter hell. But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out. As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared. That’s when you finally felt safe. And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom. After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic. Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.
“I do not envy you…”
You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”
“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick? Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”
“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”
“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”
“Mmhm…”
“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”
“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no. Please. I know your heart is in the right place, but please. Don’t tell anyone I’m sick. Don’t tell Mihawk. Don’t tell Buggy. Don’t tell Crocodile. Just keep this between us. As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here. All I need is to get some sleep. The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better. I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed. I don’t need that. Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”
“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you. Someone’s bound to find out eventually. Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”
“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know. But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today. Just let me get back to sleep.”
“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you? Do you need anything?”
“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable. As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest.
And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone. To the wrong person. And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick. But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you. For now, you were going back to sleep. And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.
When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside. And a cool washcloth on your forehead. You didn’t remember putting that there last night. Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows. But you had to retrace your steps. You had your conversation with Perona. You felt like you were going to die. You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets. Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead. Nor do you remember inviting company.
“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”
“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.
“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here. Which begs the question…”
“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.
“I…” your voice gave you away. You couldn’t write this off on a period. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night. And I came in here.”
“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that. You were triple screwed.
“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”
“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”
“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”
“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night. I threw up a bunch. I went back to bed. Happy?”
“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No. Not at all.”
“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me. Hell, I was right there.”
“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”
“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better. If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”
“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too. You’re falling apart at the seams, doll. We can take care of you, too.”
And that’s what worried you. But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright. I’m not going to fight it. But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”
“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”
“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process. It’s not worth it. Got it?”
The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach. You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look. Deliberation amongst the three of them. You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet. They read each other’s faces. They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths. But they did eventually come to an agreement.
“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood. But we have demands of our own, too.”
“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick. Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”
“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling. If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it. Whether you want it yourself or not. Can we all agree to that?”
“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.
“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order. You know what we need.”
“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office.
“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk. He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk. He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood. Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house. Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station. And if not for that fact, it was because of you. Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious. The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.
“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone. Because that respect was mutual. No matter how much they may occasionally bicker. Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for. Buggy was where their irritations went.
“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest. I’ll take the first shift with her. Go ahead and do what you need to. If anything at all.”
“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out. But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask. Any of us.”
“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep. But you knew something was going to happen. There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day. You weren’t going to get that lucky.
Still, you felt like you were dying. So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit? That was their prerogative. And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared. It was nice to have several someones care. And you loved them for it. And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too. More than anything in the world. And it would show no more than when you were sick.
A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you. And it hit hard. When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair. A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy. As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.
“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”
“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.
“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”
“Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you. You know I do. But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops. Do forgive me.”
“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms. And you reveled in his warmth, his strength. You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile. Just to be close. If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it. When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”
“What?” your voice broke. Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else? You hardly realized you were crying.
“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”
“I don’t know…” you wept. Even though you were perfectly aware. You didn’t want Crocodile to go. You didn’t want him to go back to your chair. You wanted him right there. You wanted him to be within arm’s reach. You wanted him to be around you. And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse. Which only made your coughing even worse than that.
“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high. But I think it’s breaking. We’ll call that a win.”
“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go. Please…Don’t leave me.”
“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess. I’m not going anywhere. I got you. But you’re due for another round of medicine soon. And you know what that means?”
“Hmm?”
“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”
“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”
“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while. We’ve had a supply ship come in already. We’re waiting on another one. There were some things we forgot the first time around. I’ll take care of that one. You’ll be alright with someone else. I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone. I promise. Ok?”
“Ok.” You loved Buggy. You loved Mihawk. But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.
“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back. And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me. Ok? You know I’ll come running.”
“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs.
“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine. I’ll take the next shift.”
“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”
“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”
“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever. I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”
“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago. I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”
“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No. I don’t have a death wish. And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”
“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying? That’d be wonderful.”
“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”
“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit. And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”
“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go. I have her handled.”
“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”
“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom. And even that’s iffy.”
“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile. And you shut your eyes again.
But that’s when the medicine kicked in. And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker. When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors. Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset. And you were perfectly content. Until it turned.
Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent. The sunset went away and turned into black and red. And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place. You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist. All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching. A voice echoed through the room. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were. And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own.
“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”
Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up. Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down. But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”
“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am. I’m not going anywhere. You know that. I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today. I told you before you fell asleep. I am not going anywhere. What happened?”
“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy. Everything was so nice, but then…”
“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN. It’s alright. It’s all over now. You just had a little nightmare. It’s ok. It’s all done. I promise.”
“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now. You don’t have to think about it anymore. I know you’d never kill me. You know you’d never kill me. It’s ok. I forgive you.”
“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.
“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”
“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type. Except when you were involved.
“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.
“Of course,” you swore.
“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too. His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some. And he cried so much. He hurt so much. And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse. And there was nothing more I could do. Broke my heart to hear him scream like that. But he did get better.”
“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.
“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while. And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta. He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face. Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago. And nothing you need to worry about. Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess? We need to get you better.”
“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”
“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”
“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”
“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep. Ok?”
“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over. And then, your delirium took you under.
When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms. That was not Crocodile anymore. And your heart immediately started racing. Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there. You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you. Splashing. Water. Bathroom. Bathtub? Bathtub. Bathroom. Your bathroom. The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning. What were you doing there?
“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright. We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier. You’re ok.”
Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth. It was ok. Everything was ok. And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”
“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too. It’s almost there. We just need it to drop another degree or two.”
“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk. But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you. You missed the softness. You missed the tender way he held you…
“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”
“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”
“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me. Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright. That can be washed. You can be washed. And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect. Hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile. I’m not breaking any rules here. She’s sick. We’re taking care of her.”
“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.
“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.
“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick. It’s the performer in him.”
“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”
“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN. You know him, too.”
“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok. I wouldn’t want him any other way.”
“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs. But in your defense, you kind of were.
“Mmhm…”
“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here. Let’s get you back to bed. As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”
“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged.
Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel. Crocodile was a sweetheart to you. But you were also you, “Crocodile?”
“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.
“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in? I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet. And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”
“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick? Or anyone for that matter? I did it with him. I’ll do it with her, too.”
Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room. However, you weren’t going to your bed. Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down. No, no. You were brought into Crocodile’s bed. But you couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”
“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”
“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better. And even that, we have taken care of. I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”
“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts. You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty. Much like sleeping with Crocodile did. He babied you. And you weren’t mad about it.
“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok? I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it. Got it?”
“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed. And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms.
**********
“Thank you for coming. I know it was short notice.”
“Of course. I have an obligation to help those who need it. And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”
“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”
“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”
Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you. But then, you got a better look at him. And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men. He was pretty…
“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor. He showed up. And he’s damn good at what he does.”
You knew those knuckles. You’ve heard stories about those knuckles. The word death tattooed across them. And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”
“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship. By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu. She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something. Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously. Is that something we’re all good with?”
“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.
“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.
“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous. Intravenous meant needles. Needles meant pain. Pain meant you having a not good day. And you were already miserable.
“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better. If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”
“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning. Completely. That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious. So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her. While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”
“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it. Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”
“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”
“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”
“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C. A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”
“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”
“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk? Not a fan of needles?”
“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes. I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”
“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand. Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level. They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”
“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”
“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around! I don’t need that!”
“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser. He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown. You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem. Do we understand?”
“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se. I was worried about YN, too. I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”
“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”
But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room. And you immediately knew what they were. It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough. Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face. And that’s all that mattered. However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were. That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.
“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”
“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”
“Buggy!”
“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.
Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”
“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass. Then, yes, you did.”
“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”
“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”
“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out. Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”
“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”
“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”
“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”
“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles. Fuck off, Crocodile. No one asked you.”
“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.
“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it. You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.
“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”
“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.
“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context. It has to be cough, cough just the right amount. There has to be an exit.”
“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing? Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”
“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”
“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag. Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”
“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”
“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN. I know how to distract better than anyone. I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”
“Really?”
“Really?” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”
“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”
“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything? It’s like I said. I’m human. What? Am I not allowed to have fears now? Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion? Fine. Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone. I’m sorry, YN. I can no longer love you. And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture. And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”
“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”
“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm. There was an IV in his arm. There was a needle stuck in his arm. And his vision started to go white, “See? I told…I told you…”
And there he went. His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body. And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so. How do you do that, Law?”
“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them. Easy.”
“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.
“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it. He was already out of his way. He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”
“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.
“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm. Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”
“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings. But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”
“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.
“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep. By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again. If you’re not, I’ll come back.”
“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”
“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition? Damn, YN. I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”
“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep. I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed. I’d rather not do that.”
“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it. At your own risk.”
“Ok…”
“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”
“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week. Mihawk can wait his turn. Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”
Nothing.
“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm. You’re done, too.”
“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.
“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”
“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”
“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”
“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier. All you wanted now was some sleep. And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt.
“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”
“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it. Full recovery.”
“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway. It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking? Are you going to be ok by next week?”
“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy. I won’t be sick next week.”
“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out. And I want you to feel up to it. Got it?”
“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”
“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”
“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it. Instead, you decided to shut your eyes. Just for a moment or two. You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused. But alas…You still couldn’t get that lucky.
“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.
“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona. And in my own special hell. Can I go to sleep yet?”
“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN. I thought we had something special, too. Not just you and the boys.”
“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable. And tired.”
“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.
“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness. And you were perfectly ok with that.
“I’m not an ass!”
“Mmhm…”
“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”
“Good talk, Perona…”
“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”
“Mmm…” But you were done. You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it. It was time for you to go to sleep. Whether Perona was happy about it or not. You needed the rest. In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you. But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out. But you weren’t going to fault him for it. As long as you got to go back to sleep.
“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead. Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.
“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk? I guess I could go fuck with him.”
“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”
“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.
“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.
“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone. Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways. If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy. Much like everyone else would.
Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed. Of course, he couldn’t say no to you. He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet. Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”
“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”
“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”
“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”
“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart. Ok?”
“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else. Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night. You didn’t care about anything else. You had your blankets. You had your warlord of the week. You were done.
Purupuru…
“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you. Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi. It’s been a while, hasn’t it…? I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah. She’s been sick for the last day or so. It hasn’t been pretty. Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know. Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah. She’ll be fine. We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something. He called it peramivir. He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good. She needed something strong…Thank you. That’s oddly kind of you. Are you dying…? I know. Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it. You do know where I’m staying these days, right…? Mihawk’s. Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”
“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”
“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good. That shit works fast.”
“What do you mean?” you wondered.
“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better. Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”
“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.
“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.
“Yes, sir…”
#one piece#one piece fan fiction#one piece brainrot#cross guild#cross guild x reader#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#mihawk x reader#crocodile x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#one piece x reader#buggy x you#crocodile x you#crocodile x y/n#buggy x y/n#mihawk x y/n#mihawk x you#cross guild as a polycule#ok to reblog#sick fic#featuring:#trafalgar law#of course i'm going to write sick fic and have law be the doctor#who else would i get?#bedtime story
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