#the tragedy of six au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 9 months

Text

Heathens (Pt. 1)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader

art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~

Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~

A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:

Main Masterlist

From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.

Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.

Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.

The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.

All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.

Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.

As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.

But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.

The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.

A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.

And him. The new priest.

The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.

The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.

He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.

"Father."

Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.

"Sister"

His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.

It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.

Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.

He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.

You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.

Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.

After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.

Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.

Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.

Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.

The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.

His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.

Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.

It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.

Until he held you the other day.

Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.

Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.

Jesus all mighty.

It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.

To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.

Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.

Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.

But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.

----

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.

"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."

Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.

"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."

A man?

His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.

"How does this man tempts you?"

"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."

A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.

"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."

"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"

"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."

"What kind of fear then?"

It took you a long pause to muster

"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."

He gulped.

Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."

"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"

"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."

His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.

"Ever?"

"I promise to you with my life, I've never."

"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"

"W-What?"

Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.

"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."

The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.

All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.

"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."

"Explain yourself"

His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.

"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."

His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch

"Marvelous?"

"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."

"Accountability is part of the process."

He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.

Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.

There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?

No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.

He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.

He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.

But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.

"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."

Maker's mercy

His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.

As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.

He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.

He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.

"Say it. Say your sin."

He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.

"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.

"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."

The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.

Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.

Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.

And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.

The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.

He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.

His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.

"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.

He shouldn't have lied back ago. And definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.

He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.

---

Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.

You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.

If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.

Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.

Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.

And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.

It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?

But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.

Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.

It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.

Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.

While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.

"P-Please-"

"Jesus. Come in."

He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.

"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"

Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.

"An umbrella? Really?!"

A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.

"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."

"I... I don't h-have clothes."

You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.

"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."

He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.

A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.

The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.

Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.

"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)

He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.

"Hey, hey, look at me."

Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.

A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.

"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.

"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"

The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.

"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)

He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations

Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.

"W-Wait"

A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.

He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.

His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.

That will come later.

But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.

Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.

It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.

"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.

"You'll be fine."

Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.

You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.

"Father O'Hara..."

Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.

"It's Miguel."

He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.

"Thank you, Father."

"Stop."

His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.

"Stop calling me that."

"But that's your-"

"I don't like it."

He grumbled while looking down at you.

"Call me Miguel."

"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."

"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"

You nodded

"Are you cold?"

"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"

His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.

"No. Just got worse."

You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.

The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.

"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."

Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.

"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."

"We'll go by. It's ok."

"Are my clothes ready yet?"

A snort that would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.

"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."

Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.

"D-Did you see me naked?"

"No."

Oh.

There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.

"Have you seen other women naked?"

He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.

"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."

His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist

"Do you miss it?"

"Would be a liar to say if I don't."

"You... You've had sex before?"

He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.

"I did. Plenty of times."

Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.

"I was told it felt marvelous."

You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours

"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"

He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.

You only nodded.

"Use your words, dear"

"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."

It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.

A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.

"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"

Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.

Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.

"You're still cold."

Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.

His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.

"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?

Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.

Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.

Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia

"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"

Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.

Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you

"So so pretty. Look at that"

He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space

A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.

"Want to add another?"

A breathless and hissing yes.

You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.

"Does that feel good, Hm?"

A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly

"More?"

"Please!"

How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.

"Like this?"

He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.

Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.

But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.

Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.

It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.

He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.

"M-More"

He shook his head with a proud smile

"Can't do that, preciosa"

A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"

"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."

"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"

"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."

He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.

"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Is that clear?"

You nodded with a pout.

"Lay on the bed."

"What? "

"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."

Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.

"Spread them."

Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.

He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.

Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.

The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.

His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.

Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.

Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.

The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.

Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.

Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.

You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.

His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.

Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.

That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.

"Miguel"

His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.

He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.

Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.

You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.

"Please"

You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.

What had he done out of you?

"Greed is a sin, my dear."

What had he created?

"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."

His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.

He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.

He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.

You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.

You'd be his.

---

Taglist:

@plumplumpurin

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #priest miguel #Miguelverse #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 smut #priest au #afab reader #Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

2K notes · View notes

hylianane · 3 months

Text

I’ve read Time Traveler Zoro AUS far more interesting than anything my feeble little mind could cook up on it’s own, but I’d still love try to play around with the premise and give it my own spin.

I’ve read two in which Zoro loses the crew in a great tragedy, so he goes back in time to save them, and the greatest source of tension in the story is the way he tries to hide all the future knowledge he maintains from the others, while still trying to rewrite history. It’s so good and thrilling. But. Yet. However.

I’m reminded of the scene in Sabaody in which Rayleigh offers to tell the crew about the One Piece, and Luffy furiously rejects him. Says he doesn’t want a boring adventure where he knows the ending. And though I don’t recall Zoro saying anything in that moment, I think he would agree. So in this Time Travel AU, when Zoro goes back in time, he does so with the idea that this second try isn’t for him. He wants to help, but if he gets on that boat, he won’t be able to keep himself from giving Luffy all the answers in hopes of saving his life, and that would ruin his Captain’s dream.

So let’s imagine Luffy. At seventeen years old, he sets out on a journey through the Grandline to become the King of the Pirates. He has his navigator, his sniper, his cook, his doctor- all his friends by his side. And things are challenging sometimes, but always fun. And he gets lucky.

He gets lucky a lot.

Sanjj tells him it’s a guardian angel, but Luffy’s not so sure. There’s something at the back of his mind, an itch behind his ear. He starts to notice signs of a certain presence everywhere he goes, a mysterious someone who seems to always want to beat him to the punch, but also seems to never finish the job.

Like back in Orange Town, when he met Nami and fought the Buggy guy, the Clown complained about his knife thrower being put out of commission by a bounty hunter right before the fight. Or in Syrup Village, when Captain Kuroo called for reinforcements two of his officers were a no-show, their crewmates reporting that it was as if the Nyaban Brothers had disappeared into the night. When Luffy met Sanji at the Baratie, he’d felt a tension build within him as he listened to all the rumors of the Greatest Swordsman in the World having been seen nearby. But then, the tension is cut abruptly when Don Kreig walks through the door instead, announcing that he’d escaped the Warlord when some suicidal swordsman intercepted his chase.

In Whiskey Peak, Nami tells him about how she saw a cloaked figure take down 100 hundred bounty hunters without making a sound, as if trying to not disturb the Strawhat’s sleep. Luffy thinks he might’ve seen such a figure from afar when taking a leak, but he can’t be sure. In Alabasta, Ace keeps throwing looks over his shoulder as if searching for someone, but always telling Luffy there’s nothing to worry about. Vivi is shocked to discover someone took down Baroque Work’s Number 1 in a duel a night before their arrival at Alubarna. When Robin joins them at the end of it, she seems shocked to find the crew only has five members, instead of six. But she doesn’t seem keen on elaborating why just yet.

The only place that they haven’t been followed to by this Mystery Guy (as Luffy has taken to calling him) is Skypeia. Almost like he couldn’t figure out how to get up there.

And still, the whole time Luffy’s there he can’t stop thinking about him. Looking left and right as if between the clouds and the trees he’ll catch a glimpse of Mystery Guy’s face. Nami says it’s ludicrous to think that all these instances can be chalked up to same guy. Usopp tells tall tales of how they’re being stalked by a man who fell madly love with the Great Sniper’s good looks, or sometimes he tells tales of how they’re being followed by the ancient God of Fortune, or sometimes it’s any other grandiose tale he’ll accept before he accepts that it’s just a guy, just a Mystery Guy, who is real and Luffy knows it.

He knows, and he’s a little obsessed with it. And it’s not always great. He loses sleep, wondering who are you and do you know me and do i know you and stop getting in my way and why don’t you do it more and do you want to join my crew and i need you to watch me and i need you on my crew.

(Meanwhile, on his end, Zoro is planning how to stop the tragedy that will befall his family. But in the meantime he doesn’t want to just be dead weight. He doesn’t want to be apart from them. He may not have a place on that boat anymore, but he can’t have his Captain fighting his battles. He can’t let his friends go unprotected. So he’ll protect them, protect him, in silence, from afar, always one day head, always knowing what’s coming next)

#one piece #zolu #time travel au #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #my post #strawhat pirates

306 notes · View notes

banmitbandit · 19 days

Text

Pots 'N' Picks Week 2024: Day 7: Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner/Snacks/Dessert/Family/Goodbye

[Dungeon Meshi spoilers (with a big amount of canon divergence) and a long, long caption beneath the Keep Reading]

November 20th, 1484 Dear Senshi, It's been a little over eighty two years since you've been gone. In that time, Merrywinn, the newborn baby you held in your arms days before you passed, became a great-great-grandmother, and her funeral last week was as rancorous as every other half-foot funeral we attended. Soon, it will be my one thousandth birthday, and I can only hope that, like you and Marcille, that's when this curse will finally be lifted, and I can see you again. If that's true, then that means I'm the beginning of an end. Instead of twenty one years, Laios will only have to wait three until he dies after me, and Falin will only have to wait three after that. In twelve years from now, Izutsumi will pass on too, and the six of us will get to share a meal together once again. I've missed your cooking, sure, but most importantly, I've missed you. Do you remember when we first shared that bottle of wine in my new house in Kahka Brud, over nine hundred years ago, before we had the slightest idea that something was wrong? I told you that I didn't want to make you feel the way I felt when Fayfinn left me. You said you didn't care, that it was worth whatever small amount of time you had me. Obviously, it turned out that fate had different plans for us, that the Winged Lion had cursed Marcille too, that we'd each live as long as she would. It's been hard, but since then, you've been there for me every step of the way. When Fayfinn passed, when my girls passed, when their children passed, and theirs too. You've been there for everything, and I'm thankful for it, from the bottom of my heart. I knew I wouldn't be prepared to lose you, and I wasn't. But no matter how much I hurt, Izutsumi was worse, even if she'd never admit it, and I had to be strong for her, too. She's strong and independent, just like she's always been, since the day we met her, but you were the closest thing to a father she ever had. She loved you, Senshi. She said so herself at your funeral. I just hope she doesn't miss me enough to cry at mine. I don't care what dwarves or tallmen or elves think, you and I both know funerals are supposed to be celebrations. Fun is in the name, isn't it? I haven't been okay in a long time, but these days, I feel somewhat peaceful. I have lived my life to the fullest, like any good half-foot should. My birthday gets nearer and nearer with each passing day. Tomorrow, Lochlee, Merrywinn's great-grandson, is helping me collect my things so that I can return to Merini for Laios and Falin's birthday in a few days, and I plan to stay there at the castle until my time is up. I've packed the cheesecake recipe you perfected, and I'm going to sneak it to the cooks whilst Laios isn't looking. I'm sure he'll end up eating yours and Marcille's portions too, but I know you won't mind. After that, it's Marcille's birthday. Then Izutsumi's. Then mine. I'm looking forward to it; like funerals, birthdays are for celebrating. Even elves know that. I can't wait to see you again, Senshi. Yours, -Chilchuck Tims

An AU I proposed back in the Chilshi Nation server a while ago seemed to be a good way to break my heart when rounding off Chilshi week. A lot of people bring up the tragedy of Chilchuck and Senshi's lifespans being so different, and it makes me wonder what it would be like if Marcille's misguided wish had long term consequences.

This wasn't intended to be seven pages long with the lyrics to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri shoved in, but that's what it ended up being. The song seemed a little too perfect not to include.

All of my Chilshi posts were drawn up on the day, and I used them mostly as an excuse to experiment, whether it be posing, body types, shading, comic layouts... My later entries got to be a little more ambitious with what I wanted to do with them, so they're maybe not as polished as I would like them to be, but I hope you can enjoy them anyways.

Whilst I'm here, I'd like to extend a special thankyou to @dumblilracoon for dealing with my awful brainstorming and struggling all week. Couldn't have done this without you. And of course, the Chilshi Nation discord server for being so lovely! :)

If you reblogged or liked or commented on even one of my Chilshi week posts, thankyou so much! Chilshi week has been a blast and working on it and seeing all the lovely art and writing that's come up from it has been a treat.

Happy Chilshi Week, everybody!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #senshi of izganda #chilchuck tims #chilshi #pots n picks #potsnpicksweek2024

186 notes · View notes

vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

3K notes · View notes

smilesatdawnmain · 8 months

Note

LBD looks great. Her design reflects her evil and calculated nature. Poor Nezha seeing this woman hold something as sweet innocent as baby MK.

I can totally see her sing "mother knows best" from Tangled. I bet she raised MK in a way that he sees her as a loving mother and doesn’t question her or she guilt trips him

That is honestly exactly how it is going to go. She knows the familiar ties of mortals holds a strong sense of loyalty she wants to exploit from her Champion and the other children. She does have them all call her "Mother" so instill that.

Though, not all of them refer to her as Mother (Like Red Son)

MK never understands why he feels both happy and fearful in the arms of his Mother... yet only ever feels love when he hugs the other children or Nezha.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk mk #answer #The tragedy of six au #lmk lady bone demon #lmk fanfic

129 notes · View notes

inkbybambi · 9 months

Text

john "bravo six" price

Breathe You In The Favorite Star of the Show abandoned at a haunted house how dbf john price fucks you dbf john price eating you out fucking you in a club getting ready to go out for a night

simon "ghost" riley

bodyguard simon who takes a bullet for you best friend simon riley picking you up from a bad date chiropractor who's gentle with you pornstar ghost who's in love with you soft pornstar ghost soft simon who's so gentle and calms your nerves during sex guard dog mafia simon

john "soap" mactavish

possessive soap werewolf soap with a breeding kink

kyle "gaz" garrick

cockwarming with gaz fae!changeling taking the place of best friend gaz when you were younger fae!gaz meeting you in a coffee shop fae!gaz kisses you at midnight on nye

poly + 141

helping him workout kiss cam (ghost/soap) piercing headcanon (141) puppy play comfort (ghost/soap) soulmate red string theory (ghost/soap) see you on the other side (ghost/soap, series) prologue sweeter than sugar (ghost/soap) talks you through it over the phone (price/gaz)

etc

fucking john price greek tragedy au (ghost/soap) husband simon riley with the wedding cake keegan's voice makes a girl ache mob boss john price collars you possessive soap marking you

#inkbybambi masterlist #navigation #john price #simon riley #soap mactavish #kyle garrick #141 x reader #141 x you #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare smut

421 notes · View notes

voidbeomgyu · 1 year

Text

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it.

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances.

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically.

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying.

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin.

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now.

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain.

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again.

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in.

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door.

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense.

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame.

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

782 notes · View notes

jeonggukookies · 6 months

Text

crown's kingdom || two

summary: now engaged to prince jungkook, you both must figure a way to make this alliance work while your enemies try to tear it apart.

– genre: royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au, prince!jungkook, queen!reader, arranged marriage - fluff/angst

– word count 4637

– warnings: please read note if you haven't read changes

index || one

“Look what we have here.” Despite your eyes being completely shut, you knew who took a seat next to you on the bench by recognizing his voice. “I want to say what a beautiful dress you have on there, but I’m afraid I have to tell you the truth. Your morning dress looks like a tablecloth for afternoon lunch.”

To start off your mornings, you woke up before the sun, craving to have at least an hour alone in the chapel, free from anyone to interrupt your morning meditation and prayers. It was one of the few times when you were alone, not surrounded by any servants or guards. You were able to find solace—until Jungkook came.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having your presence near me at this time?” You asked politely, still with your eyes closed and your hands pressed together, fingers pointed upwards, deep in prayer.

For the last week, you and Jungkook had been doing an excellent job avoiding each other despite the public announcement of the engagement. You always tried to make your schedule as busy as it could be, not wanting to spend a second alone with him. You filled your time up with more violin lessons and analyzing war strategies and patterns from your father’s old journal. Eventually, you were going to have to interact with Jungkook and fool everyone that the two of you were in love, but you didn’t expect him to find out about your schedule, taking the time to wake up early to come find you in the prayer room.

“Perhaps the dress would be better as a tablecloth,” he suggested, pulling at the puffy sleeves, attempting to get a rise out of you. “And perhaps, you on that particular table.”

“To the Divine Spirit, please forgive me for all I have sinned and will sin.” Opening your eyes, you smacked Jungkook’s arm, annoyed by his antics. With a smirk on his face, he’s chuckling, satisfied to get a reaction out of you.

“It’s almost six in the morning, and you really want to start off the day by pissing me off?” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to raise your voice. “Can you be a pain in the ass somewhere else? And not in this sacred space? A place where I find peace?”

“I quite believe this is the perfect time and place to do it,” he remarked, trying to hide the mischievous smile on his face. “You have to get used to it if we are to be wed soon.”

“Do not remind me of this terrible tragedy.” You groaned. “May we pray that the fates decree our union not come to pass."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed with your response. “Why do you act like a grandma? No one our age speaks like that or wakes up this early to pray! Just say, ‘God, I hope we don’t marry.’”

“Are the words too big for you to understand?” You pushed your lower lip out, pretending to feel bad for him. “Is that why you were engaged to Comet? The girl whose named after her own country but can’t spell her name without help from her tutors? You know stupid plus stupid doesn’t cancel each other out, right?”

“And you know praying every day isn’t going to erase any of the sins you’ve committed in the past, right?” He mocked. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been the last couple of days, and now I realize that I shouldn’t have gone through so many people to find out that you wake up so early to pray. I should have remembered you were so boring.”

You scoffed. “Wow, you must be really thinking about me all the time? To be asking others about my schedule? To be wondering where I am at? You must not have a life, huh?”

“Alright, it’s already been one week, and I’ve had enough. I don’t think I can handle you for the rest of my life.”

“Then do something about it,” you snapped.

“You don’t think I haven’t?” He snapped back, looking at you with the same amount of anger in his eyes. “What do you think I was trying to do for the last week? While you were hiding away in your room, I was trying to secretly change this alliance. Maybe with your help, I can easily break off the engagement and toss you like a pebble in the lake.”

For a moment, you were offended that you were disposable to him, making it seem like you desperately needed him and his country more than he needed you.

You can play this game too, you thought to yourself.

With your index finger, you gestured for him to come closer to you, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And if you shall give up the position of ruling two countries, maybe even three one day, would the current King of Aurum be happy with that? Could he let you live in peace if you were to ruin the alliance without his permission?”

Jungkook learned his lesson for the day and finally shut his mouth, letting the devotion area be peaceful for the rest of the morning. He put his hands together, silently mouthing along to some basic scriptures.

“Amen,” you whispered, putting your hands together, ready to medicate and pray next to Jungkook.

_________

Dasher, the new Prince of Cometes, could have gone to command his new military forces, started imposing taxes, or simply have done absolutely nothing as his first task as a royal. Instead, he decided the first thing to do was to go to Aurum to renegotiate their alliance as their circumstances had now changed.

After eating breakfast, you were asked to accompany Jungkook to greet the new prince. His parents thought it was a perfect opportunity to showcase the new alliance between the two countries.

“I’m glad you changed out of that old curtain you had earlier,” Jungkook said when you arrived next to his side. The two of you were outside the palace, waiting for the Cometes’s carriage. “You would have made it seem like I downgraded.”

“Well, I sure did.” You forced a smile, looking straight ahead where the horses were coming at a steady pace a few meters away from you. “Don’t understand why I have to be here like I’m you’re fucking babysitter.”

“Here he comes.” You turned your head to look at Jungkook, and you find him already staring back at you. He was holding his breath, having a tense look on his face. It had been a while since you’ve seen Jungkook look this apprehensive. “Can you do this?”

When the two of you were learning all the types of ballroom dances, Jungkook’s face was always pale before he had to perform and get evaluated by our instructor. You knew it wasn’t because he was ten years old, dancing with a girl; he was a perfectionist, afraid to take the wrong step and embarrass himself in front of everyone.

As he had gotten older, he had done a better job at hiding his anxiety, trying to look like the Golden Prince everyone saw him to be. He’s been doing such a great job, that even you forgot he had the capability to be nervous. He wasn’t just a snarky and egomaniacal prince; Jungkook, too, was a human with fears and imperfections.

“Absolutely.” Without giving you any context, you knew what he was asking. He needed your reassurance—that the two of you could convince the future King of Cometes, that your shared hatred will be hidden by the love of your countries. “Don’t be afraid.”

Before the horses came to a complete stop, Jungkook straightened his posture, taking a deep breath. No longer looking nervous, he looked like he was ready to stand his ground, determined to become one of the best kings.

Stepping out of the carriage, a silver-haired man as tall as Jungkook appeared. The man was wearing a close-fitting gray velvet doublet, embellished with white pearls along the seams. With a black linen shirt underneath, the pearls were able to stand out more, showing everyone his new power.

“Prince Jungkook,” the man greeted. “Well isn't it quite lovely to see you again?”

“And now as equals this time, Prince Dasher,” Jungkook slyly commented. “I hope the ride here wasn’t too terrible with all the rain and mud this season.”

“Not at all.” The man turned his focus on you, looking up and down, trying to analyze who you were to stand so close to the Prince of Aurum. “You must be Queen of Caelestia.”

“Please address me as Y/N,” you said politely. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Dasher.”

“As to you, Your Grace.” He took a bow, showing his respects. “The rumors must be true then,” he said. “The two of you are going to wed.”

“Unless you’re here to propose to me, then plans can always be altered and rearranged,” Jungkook joked lightly, trying to ease the mood. You bit your lower lip to hold yourself back from laughing at his attempt. The joke itself wasn’t that funny, but the fact that Jungkook thought it was appropriate to say.

“I can assure you that I will not bore you with a proposal of mine.” Dasher took another look at you and Jungkook. He was trying to read the two of you. “And is your bride joining us for our negotiation?”

“She will not,” Jungkook answered right away, not giving you a second to react. There was some hostility in his voice. “Do you request her presence at our meeting between our two countries?”

“Just interesting that the future queen of Aurum will not be there.” Dasher raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

“Well, we haven’t even decided on invitations! But I promise you that you’ll be one of the first to receive them.” You paused to look at Jungkook, linking your arm to his. “Isn’t that right, Darling?”

He stared back at your eyes, deeply as if he were trying to your deepest, darkest secrets. Letting a small scoff, he smiled and looked back at Dasher. “Well, now that we got introductions out of the way, why don’t we head towards the affairs room to discuss the future of our people?”

________

With the arrival of Prince Dasher, you were expected to attend the evening activities. Typically, the evening activities were full of entertainment like live music, dancing, theater, and more. They were loud and socially draining at times, but you loved going, seeing it as an opportunity to enrich life and cultivate an appreciation for arts and culture.

When walking into the courtiers’ hall, you can tell the King and Queen of Aurum went the extra mile in making tonight’s activities more lavish than usual, catering to their guests. You noticed how there were more servants around, refilling drinks and replacing empty food trays as quickly as they could. They were even using the fancy china that the Queen rarely used, wanting to keep it in mint condition. There were more musicians hired as well. With more musicians, they were able to proudly and loudly play traditional Cometes music, hoping to make the Cometes people feel at home.

There were more people today, all participating in the elegant court dances, and board games and many were socializing, especially the women, probably hoping to find a suitor among the new guests.

“Queen Y/N.” You turned your head to see Kim Taehyung, a Luxuria ambassador who resided in Aurum Court. “It’s a blessing to see you entertained by tonight’s festivities.”

“Well, that can’t be right.” You took a few steps to be face-to-face with him. “Aren’t you always praying for my downfall?”

For the last two years, Kim Taehyung has been a cunning diplomat. On paper, his presence at court might be to handle situations between his country and Aurum, but really, his true mission was to antagonize you at court. Despite his constant terrorizing, you’ve kept your eye on him, following the rule: Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer.

He chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen you around court to give you my congratulations on your engagement to Jungkook.”

“Thank you, Taehyung.” You forced a smile, and he smiled back.

“And how has this engagement been so far?”

“Quite amazing,” you lied. “Thank you for asking.”

“Is that why everyone is talking about Jungkook and your reluctance to marry each other?” He asked. “You know, Luxuria intelligence predicted this happening years ago. That somehow you would find a way to marry the next King of Aurum. That somehow the alliance between Aurum and Cometes would fall through.”

“If you want to take your anger or frustration out on someone for the sudden change, Prince Dasher is present at court today as well.” You pointed in the direction where Dasher was. “Shall I introduce the two of you and be on my way?”

He took a step closer, trying to intimidate you. “How about instead you go on your way back to Caelestia and abandon this alliance with Aurum?”

“Is that a threat?” You asked, raising your eyebrows and letting out a humorless laugh. “Are you seriously threatening me?”

“Not a threat,” he insisted. “Consider this as….a chance to save your country and people.”

The smile disappeared from your face. You gritted through your teeth, “To save my country and my people, I need to take the chance and marry Jungkook for his armies against YOUR people!”

“Then take the first step and go back home,” he suggested.

“And then how long would Luxuria come after my throne?”

He refused to answer your question, changing the subject immediately. “Do not beg for mercy when I have given you the chance to correct yourself.”

“And have you and your queen considered that mercy doesn’t need to be begged if Luxuria would stop sending its forces to my border?”

He looked around, seeing if anyone was watching your interaction with him. He then smiled. “You may have been safe and across the sea all this time, but do not forget, Queen Y/N, even monarchs cannot escape death.”

For a moment, you froze in place, feeling the anger grow inside your body. From a young age, you were taught that monarchs cannot show their emotions, and they shouldn’t especially show it to their enemies.

Before you could react, Jungkook appeared by your side, putting his arm around you, hand on your shoulder. “Darling! Did you see that the servants made pavlova? We have to go get some before it all runs out, especially since these fruits aren’t even in season!”

“Excuse us,” you mumbled under your breath, directed to Taehyung.

Moving his arm, Jungkook then had his hand gently wrapped around your right wrist, pulling you into a private corner away from all the guests. As your back leaned against the wall, Jungkook let go of your wrist and stood directly in front of you, so you were face to face.

“Don’t push me away,” he said in a low voice. “Are you okay?”

“He-he.” Out of nowhere, you started heavily breathing as if there was a limited amount of air in the room. You were unable to finish your thoughts, interrupted by every scenario going through your head. Tears were about to flood your eyes, ready to leave wet trails on your face.

“Look at me,” Jungkook instructed, cupping your face with his hands, his eyes directly piercing into your soul once again. “Repeat after me. You are a queen.”

“Threat-threatened my-“ Jungkook cut you off.

“I am a queen,” he emphasized, repeating himself slowly this time. “Say it with me. I am a queen.”

“I am a queen,” you repeated, trying to believe the truth in those words. A couple more times, you repeated in a hushed tone, “I am a queen.”

“Don’t let anyone see that you’re afraid,” he said after it seemed like you were finally calming down. “Let me be the only person to see you shaking like a small useless chihuahua.”

“Are you calling me—“ He cut you off again, not letting you finish his sentence.

“I know you’re not useless.” His hands held your face a little tighter, still refusing to break eye contact with you. “You’re a queen. You will be remembered as the benevolent queen of three countries one day. And while all of everyone’s great great great grandchildren are learning about you in history books, no one will remember his name. Don’t let him get to you now and let him become a footnote in the future.”

Nodding, a tear slipped, and you quickly felt Jungkook wiping the tear with his thumb, not letting anyone else see a Queen in a vulnerable state. Your breathing was almost back to normal, feeling some comfort from his words.

“Can you do this?” He asked, repeating his question from earlier.

Despite growing up together all these years, you and Jungkook had never been this up close and personal. Even when paired up for ballroom dancing, the two of you danced awkwardly together, barely touching his fingertips. It felt unreal that you and Jungkook were now alone, staring at each other, ignoring the rest of the world around you. “Yes.”

Jungkook stared at you for another two seconds before he realized the position the two of you were in. His grip became stiff and rigid for a moment before he finally removed his hands from your face and cleared his throat, pretending as if he wasn’t trying to protect you in his arms.

“Thanks.” You coughed awkwardly, still standing in front of him. The two of you never shared an intense moment like that before, a moment filled with insecurity, vulnerability, and comfort.

Jungkook sighed and looked back at you. Without any verbal confirmation, you knew that he silently agreed that everything would go back to normal, that the two of you would go back to pushing each other’s buttons. “I should get going.”

Before you could say anything, Jungkook started to walk away. He was probably already erasing the moment out of his head.

You had to remind yourself that the two of you will wed for your countries, that it won’t be for true love or happily ever after. It'll be a marriage full of moments like these that will mean nothing to him. And you hoped they would mean nothing to you.

__________

By the next morning, Luxuria went through with their warning and sent their troops to your border, threatening your people.

“Once we received word this morning from your mother, we sent supplies to your troops.” You had barged into the room of affairs, surprising Jungkook and the Queen by your sudden appearance. “They will be there as soon as they can. We sent our fastest rider.”

The King didn’t take his eyes off the document he was reading. It seemed like the King had expected you to come in urgently while the Queen, sitting next to him, was visibly annoyed with your sudden intrusion. Jungkook, standing to the side of the room, looked baffled, unsure if he should laugh at your courage or be displeased.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “These supplies will go a long way, but supplies aren’t the only thing we need.”

“Let me guess..You want soldiers?” The King asked, still not looking at you. “I am afraid that I cannot give you men, but you have my deepest sympathy.”

“I am asking for more than sympathy. I need men, or else these supplies are useless.”

“The men that you need are the same men that we cannot give you.” He finally looked up and shrugged his shoulders.

“As Queen, I have the responsibility to find solutions, and that was through our alliance with your country, which you are not honoring.”

“Keep in mind that you are not the only one with a country to think about,” the King replied. “I am putting my country and its people first.”

“I will not forget this when I am both Queen of Caelestia and Aurum,” you challenged. “I will always put my country first. Do not hold me hostage and fulfill this alliance, or let me go.”

“The two of you need to learn this.” The King paused to point at you and Jungkook. “You are royals. You DO NOT have the luxury of doing what you want. You do what is best for your country. Perhaps, the two of you should stop wasting time. Instead of trying to think of ways to get out of your marriage, start taking action.”

“Father, I think we should help.” You took a quick look at Jungkook, surprised by his answer. “If Caelestia loses, that’ll only make Luxuria a bigger threat to our country.”

“Get out. The two of you, out now,” the King firmly demanded.

The sound of the doors slamming behind you echoed throughout the whole castle. You took a deep breath and started walking to your chambers until Jungkook caught up, walking next to you.

“Hey, I think you’re right. I am on your side.”

“You are?” You were taken back from his statement, not expecting him to be on your side for politics. “Why?”

“Because after your country, mine will be next,” Jungkook explained. “By working together, we can slowly defeat the Luxurian military. I just need some time to convince my father.”

Caught up in a moment of joy, you wrapped your arms around Jungkook, pulling him into a tight hug. Your happiness must have overcome the supposed feelings of animosity you had towards him. “Thank you!”

Jungkook hesitantly and slowly embraced you back.

__________

“This must be the day pigs are going to grow wings and fly,” Lady Adoree exaggerated.

Ladies-in-waiting were the Queen’s female companions, typically wealthy noblewomen. They accompanied you, staying by your side for most events. Not only were they your attendants, but they were also your closest friends. And you were the closest to Lady Adoree.

“Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s surprised by all of this,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’ve been gone for seven days, and somehow, you and Jungkook are engaged to each other.” She had traveled to Aureus, the capital of Aurum, for the last week to meet with her a suitor, which did not end up well. “Then, he’s willingly trying to help you as if he didn’t try to sabotage this alliance or even your whole life here.”

“Excuse me, Lady Adoree.” The two of you were still at the dining table after finishing lunch, catching up. You looked up and saw Prince Dasher waiting behind Lady Adoree’s chair. “Can I please have a moment with your queen?”

“Prince Dasher,” you greeted as Lady Adoree stood up from her chair, allowing Dasher to take her seat. “I thought you were on your way home.”

“Well, it turns out we still have more negotiations with Aurum to discuss, which is delaying our departure,” he said. “It is not a total disaster as I am blessed to spend another second with a beautiful queen.”

“Are these sweet words repeated to every other queen?” You quipped.

“Just you,” he claimed. “No one else can hear those words from me.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see a vein popping out of Lady Adoree’s forehead. She was frowning, not happy that she had given up her seat just for him to be flirty. Lady Adoree hated talking to guys and drove them away just as much as you did.

“I’m not new to this game,” you reminded him. “What is desired from me?”

Prince Dasher leaned into your ear, whispering, “I heard Prince Jungkook cannot give you the help you need for the Luxuria Troops.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to dull up any emotions on your face. “I’m still not hearing what you want from me.”

Instead of verbally answering, Prince Dasher cleared his throat and pushed his chair back, almost hitting Lady Adoree. He then kneeled on his right knee, causing Lady Adoree to gasp loudly.

“What are you doing?!” You growled. “Get up.”

“My desire is you,” he said. “Now I am no longer the King’s Bastard and am finally the legitimate Prince of Cometes. I am here to seek out the best deal and I believe Caelestia is that.”

“To my knowledge, everyone including yourself knows that I am already betrothed!” You looked around, hoping no one else was in the room witnessing this act.

“I can give you the men you need to fight Luxuria,” he promised.

You sighed. “My attention is yours.”

He beamed at your defeat. “Perhaps the dissolution of your alliance with Aurum will help your country, Queen Y/N.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if we were to wed, do you really think Luxuria will just stop?”

“I think you’ve forgotten,” he stressed. “Luxuria and Cometes have been allies for centuries. I hope you consider this offer.”

__________

Jungkook stayed silent.

It was after midnight, and the two of you met in a private room on the other side of the castle, away from everyone else. No one really came to this side of the castle. It was mainly used to have secret meetings, not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

You were pacing around the room, playing with your hands, anxious to hear his thoughts after telling him Prince Dasher’s offer as he sat down on the bench and had his chin resting on his cupped hands together.

“Are you going to say something?” You stopped walking back and forth and came to a stop. “What are you thinking about?”

He sighed before standing back up to face you. “I-I think you should do it.”

“What?” Your heart sank, pain settling in your chest. Despite being the Queen of Caelestia, you viewed Aurum as if it were your home to you. Even though you had no intention of ruling Aurum and this alliance came out of nowhere, you felt a sense of happiness that you could finally give back to the country that gave you everything.

Aurum was a part of you whether you liked it or not, and with Jungkook’s answer, it seemed like Aurum didn’t want you. And that he didn’t want you. There were a bunch of conflicting emotions going through your mind, but you pushed them away, needing to think about your country. “Are you serious?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Think about it, Y/N. How could you pass this up?”

“What happened to being on my side?!” You exclaimed. “And you’re just going to let it go? Just like that.”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, quickly taking your hands and holding them. “But there’s nothing I can do to change my father’s mind…to help your country. I’ve tried and tried. We are just in this alliance, and you are getting nothing..”

“You don’t want to marry me,” you said bitterly, letting go of his hold. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it?”.

“It’s not that,” Jungkook denied. There was a sense of desperation in his voice. “Believe me, I know I’ve been trying to get out of this alliance. But I’m not telling you to do it because of that. I’m telling you to do this, because this is what is best for your country.”

“Is that really it?”

“You’ve been Queen your whole life. You should have known that alliances can easily shift,” Jungkook quickly snapped, changing his demeanor suddenly. “Your country gets the help it needs, and my country will not be ruled by an Ice Queen.”

And Jungkook walked away like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

#bts fanfic #bangtanwriters-net #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #crown kingdom #royalty au #jungkook royalty #enemies to lovers #jungkook angst #mine #jungkook x reader

335 notes · View notes

instafic-for-readers · 5 months

Text

Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3

Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Magic School!AU | SMAU | Fluff | Rom-Com

With a large friendship group, Y/N had her fair share of laughing and teasing; but with her large small crush on Minho, the group is ready for mischief… Add a little magic and you have a whole love story on your hands!

Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 Masterlist | Main M.List

————

Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 Masterlist:

————

| Format Explaination |

| Profiles One | Profiles Two | Profiles Three |

Chapter One: Never Left 😔✊ {10.04.24}

Chapter Two: All Starry-Eyed 🤩 {15.04.24}

Chapter Three: A Little Fox Told Me 🦊 {20.04.24}

Chapter Four: He Bites 🐕 {25.04.24}

Chapter Five: Wildflowers 💐 {28.04.24}

Chapter Six: Awkward AF 😧 {28.04.24}

Chapter Seven: Attention Seeker 🐕 {04.05.24}

Chapter Eight: A Trip? Alone? 👀 {04.05.24}

Chapter Nine: Use Your Head 🍆 {12.05.24}

Chapter Ten: Two Stupid Cats 🐱 {12.05.24}

Chapter Eleven: Bit Extreme 🥴 {19.05.24}

Chapter Tweleve: Min? 😏 {19.05.24}

Chapter Thirteen: Soft Launch? 😮 {26.05.24}

Chapter Fourteen: Oh… 😭 Jinx {26.05.24}

Chapter Fifteen: Cat Cafe 🐈 {29.05.24}

Chapter Sixteen: Cat Cafe Cuties 🥰 {29.05.24}

Chapter Seventeen: Potion Gone Wrong 💥 {08.06.24}

Chapter Eighteen: Minho’s Dorm? 😎 {08.06.24}

Chapter Nineteen: Hubby Behaviour 😏 {11.06.24}

Chapter Twenty: Kkami Cuddles 🥰 {11.06.24}

Chapter Twenty-One: Worse Then Us 💓 {28.06.24}

Chapter Twenty-Two: Courtyard 🌳☀️ {16.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Three: Cutie’s!! 🥰 {19.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Four: Dramatic 🎭 {19.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Five: Studying 📚 {21.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Six: Just Confess? 🫥 {21.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Seven: 4th Cat 🐈‍⬛ {23.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Eight: BBQ Time 🍖 {23.07.24}

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Besties 🐈🐈‍⬛🥰 {25.07.24}

Chapter Thirty: Our Little Moon 🌙🐈 {25.07.24}

COMPLETED

————

Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 Masterlist | Format Expla.

If you want to be added to a tag list lmk!

(If you have asked to be put on the tag list I will be tagging you here first just so I can keep track of tags over the series!)

| @l33bang24 | @katsukis1wife | @tinyelfperson |

| @chxrrylly | @miniature-tragedy | @amarecerasus |

| @nappynapnaps | @not-very-slay-of-you |

| @x4n7h0s | @bbokari711 | @borahae-reads |

| @siriusly1 | @jazziwritesthings |

{If you're crossed out it won't tag for some reason :(}

(Warning: I don’t know much about other people included in this SMAU other than Skz & Ateez, they’re there to fill gaps mostly and the personalities that I have given them don’t represent them in real life! Also I don’t actually ship idols/band-mates together, it’s just for subplots!)

If you like this, check out my other Stray Kids SMAU:

⟣ Toddlers In Training ⟢ (SkzFamily!AU x PlatonicFem!Reader)

#Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 #Series #Oh To Be A Cat In Love <3 Masterlist #lee know x fem!reader #lee know smau #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee minho smau #lee minho x fem!reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #stray kids x fem!reader #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #smau

196 notes · View notes

kingtomura · 5 months

Text

Deja Vu | 2 | The Girl Who Cried Wolf

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, piv, smut with feelings, mdni wc: 9.2k | Prev | Chapter 3 | m. list | read on ao3

You’ve never been good at hide-and-seek.

“Touya,” you yell into the crisp air of the forest, “this isn’t funny!” You’ve been at this for what feels like forever and it’s just not working.

You can’t find him.

The wind was chilling you to the bone and it was almost dinner time. This was becoming more and more pointless as the minutes ticked by. You just wanted to find him so you both could go eat.

“Okay, well if you’re not gonna come out then I don’t wanna play anymore!” You shout, fully ready to turn tail and get out of there.

You hear a groan from the bushes and Touya emerges, his hair now white on one side and red on the other.

“You’re no fun.” He chides. “What are you gonna do when you have to find a villain?”

“I’ll find them, of course! But not on an empty stomach.” You huff, just glad that he’s stopped messing around and you can both head back now.

You are both six years old and Touya’s passion for becoming the number one hero burns brighter each passing day. You can only imagine what the coming years will be like.

Touya stood up fully, brushing the residual snow from his pants, forever unbothered by the cold. “Right… whatever you say.”

In that moment your stomach growls and Touya raises a brow.

Frustration makes itself known again as you stomp your foot in the white snow, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “We were at this for so long! I’m tired. And cold.”

“You’re always cold.” He muses, walking towards you and taking your hand.

You shrug, ducking your nose into your scarf to avoid being called Rudolph again, as Touya loves to do. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand in yours. “And you’re always warm.”

Touya hums, leading you both back to his home that was nearby. His mother promised to make Udon tonight and it was all you could think about.

“You know, you haven't said much about your new baby brother.” You start, tilting your head to get a better look at him, he always seemed more tense when going towards the home.

His tense features smooth out at the mention of his new sibling, brows softening and a smile sliding onto his face. “Oh, yeah. Well he doesn’t do much yet. He can’t talk or anything. He’s trying, but he’s kind of a potato.”

The comment makes you laugh, and you watch as fresh, new snowflakes make their way down from the sky, landing in Touya’s hair and your jacket. It’s at this moment you decide that winter is your favorite season.

The way Touya squeezes your hand brings you back to the present, the warmth making your heart dance. “But, I can't wait until he does talk. I bet he’ll be pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.” You agree, “But you have to make sure you set a good example for him. Or else he’ll be the cool brother, you know.”

Touya scoffs, brows furrowing in irritation that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I know that! I’m always cool…”

You mutter a soft sure as your best friend’s home comes into view.

Udon was so close, you could almost taste it.

“Race you there!” Touya shouts, dropping your hand and taking off, effectively leaving you in the dust.

“Hey!” You try to catch up, but the headstart he had over you was too great, and you end up last — much to your dismay. Touya was already inside and kicking his shoes off by the time you made it in. “You cheated!”

The boy only shrugs, removing his coat and putting it away, “If you wanna be a hero you have to always be alert, that’s what dad says anyway.”

You follow suit, kicking off your shoes and jacket, and running to greet his mother. It was perfect timing, you noted, as Rei had only just begun placing piping hot bowls of Udon down at the table for all of you.

“Hi, Fuyumi!” You greet watching her emerge from further into the home. She returns with a wave, taking her place at the table.

There was no time to waste as you dig into the soup, enjoying the way it warmed your insides from the cool air outside.

“And where have you two been all day?” Rei questions, tone neutral and patient. It’s at this moment you notice the overheated head of the household was not present for dinner. It's something you cannot say that you mind, given how tense the air is when the man does come around.

“We were out playing hide and seek.” Touya supplied through a mouthful of noodles.

Rei looks skeptical, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her son. “Just playing hide and seek, Touya? No extra training?”

The boy stops, watching his mother before taking a sip of his water, “Maybe a little bit of training…”

“Touya.”

“What?” He asks, growing aggravated at the woman's pestering. You could only watch as the interaction went on, trying to enjoy your Udon as best you could.

“I told you not to push yourself today. It’s already hard enough to get your father to give you an off day, at least enjoy it by not overdoing it.”

“I wasn’t overdoing it! It’s fine, okay?” His frustration is growing and you begin to shift in your seat, unsettled by the conversation. It wasn’t the first time Rei had scolded Touya about quirk training, but it always ended the same — no progress on the topic being made.

Rei sighs, the stresses of her day to day beginning to catch up with her. “I just don’t want you to overdo it. I want you to enjoy being a child too, Touya. Just have fun sometimes.”

“But I do have fun — all the time!”

She’s tired, you can tell by the bags lining her eyes and the unkept status of her hair. Your mom looks like this too, on the days her job runs over and she has to come home late. Maybe all moms look this way, you ponder as you down the rest of your soup.

“Listen, I know you want to get stronger, but you’ve been turning up hurt more often than not. At least hold off until the doctor's appointment.”

You watch as Touyas brows scrunch and his lips turn down in a frown. You know that look very well. He's upset. “What? That’s dumb! I won’t be the best if I let a few burns stop me.”

“Touya…” Rei looks like Touya, you realize in this moment, a near carbon copy of her son the way her features mirror his own. “It’s just for a little while, okay? Not forever.”

He scoffs, done with the conversation and Rei only looks on. “Whatever.”

That’s the end of the conversation, sending dinner into a deep silence with tension crowding the air.

By the end of dinner, you are more than ready to head to bed, quick to finish your nightly duties and prepare for bed.

You try to bite back a yawn as you slide the door to the bedroom open, it is futile and you feel the tears pull at the corners of your eyes — signaling that it was time for bed.

Touya was already clad in his pajamas and currently rolling out the extra futon for you to sleep on. It was a soft white and blue and you wasted no time getting under the blankets.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.” Your best friend whined, arms crossed and judging stare watching you make yourself comfortable.

You sit up, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. “‘M not. Just getting comfy.”

“Yeah, sure.” He stops, dropping his eyes to his lap, lost in thought. “Do you think she was right?”

“Hm? Who?”

Touya sucks his teeth, eye roll not directed at you, but his frustration. “My mom. When she said that I train too much.”

“Oh,” you didn’t think so. You were sure how much Touya trained with his father, but you knew it was never anything extensive when it was only you two together. There was no way that was considered too much. “No, I don't think you do.”

He smiles, and you feel like you’ve made the right call. “Good! I just want to be strong. I don’t see why she doesn’t get that. She says I'll end up hurting myself. But when I get burned it’s only a little bit.”

“Yeah, when I use my quirk too much my head will start to hurt really bad and my nose bleeds a little, but it goes away after a while.” You bring a hand to your nose, thankful there was no metallic smell lingering from the last time you used your quirk.

“The burns go away too! I knew you would understand.” He smiles, and then focuses on you, tone serious. “Hey, let's make a promise, then.”

This piques your interest. “What kind of promise?”

“That we’ll both keep trying to get strong. We can look after each other so we won't push too hard. Promise?” He holds out his fist with his pinky extended. His eyes are vivid within the dark room, the cerulean blue filled with a boyish determination that makes your mind rush and your heart flutter.

It's so quiet, the hushed whispers between you two make this feel more like a secret than a promise, and maybe in some ways it is. A secret that binds you both to each other, one that is in its own a safety net and a comfort when you need it most.

You reach back, interlocking his pinky with yours. “I promise.”

He brings it forward, pulling you towards him just a little. Touya kisses the exposed part of your pinky, and you bring his closer to do the same.

The deal was sealed. Promise made.

The sound of footsteps pulled you both from your steely gaze and towards the door. Touya's eyes widened, knowing you both were not supposed to be awake at this hour. You lock eyes and both duck down, covering yourselves with the blankets and feigning sleep.

It was just in time as the door to the room slid open, a wandering Rei glancing around the now still room. She stood there for a moment — muttering about how she could have sworn she heard voices — before turning to leave, door sliding shut and footsteps trailing back to her side of the home.

Both you and Touya tried as best you could to keep your snickers and laughs down, even going as far as slapping a hand over his mouth and yours to silence the noises. Only once there were no more sounds of footsteps did you release your hold on him, bringing an index finger to your mouth to shush him further.

“Okay,” Touya whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice carrying despite the honest effort to be silent, “we have to go to bed, for real this time.”

“Yeah.” You nod, trying your best to bite back a smile. You were sure the both of you were the only two people awake in the world right now. No one else but you, him in the pale moonlight — with the stars tagging along, sneaking into the space and lighting up the dim room, eavesdropping on your hushed laughs and promises.

“Goodnight,” he breathes, no more than a whisper.

“Goodnight, Touya.”

—--------------------

You wake with a start, body sitting straight up in bed as your chest heaved. Your eyes darted left and right but all you could see was the familiar posters along the walls of your bedroom.

Your bedroom?

“Oh, I see you’re awake.”

Your head snaps to the voice, honey sweet and always familiar. Your mother stood at your door, leaning against the dark wood of the doorframe and giving you a look that made a pit form in your stomach. You clench the cotton of your bed's comforter, the fabric anchoring you to the room.

“You’ve been out for a while.” She continues when she realizes you won’t speak. And what could you say? That you chased your dead best friend in the forest and overused your quirk to catch him? It sounds ridiculous.

So, you bring the words to your mouth and try to give her a response. Even if it’s a small, insignificant one.

“Have I?” The words feel dry and heavy on your tongue, like you haven’t spoken in days. Maybe you haven’t.

Your mother nods, taking your response as consent to come further into your room. Her steps are soft, as if any loud noise would scare you off or make you shut down. It’s hard to look away from her worried gaze, so you don’t.

You watch as she makes her way over, sitting down on your bed and the look she gives you makes your chest ache.

The somber aura in her eyes brings you no comfort.

“What were you doing out there?” She skips to the point, not wasting another minute. It’s like the question has been running through her head for a while now.

Your eyes fall to your fists clutching the bedsheets.

What could you say?

“I…” You swallow, the worst she could do was not believe you. “I saw something in the forest.”

Your mother shifts on the bed, turning to look at you head on. “What did you see?”

There was no way she wouldn’t think you were crazy, but you had to try.

“Touya. I swear I saw him.” Your eyes meet hers and you wished they hadn’t. The look of sorrow is now replaced with something much worse. Pity.

“Sweetie…”

You inhale, tears blurring your vision and you knew this would happen. “Don’t! It was him — I know it was.”

“I'm not saying it wasn’t.” She defends, bringing a hand up in surrender. “I’m just worried about you. You know what the doctors told you about your quirk.”

The quirk. You didn’t even think about that.

Too caught up in the possibility of seeing Touya again.

Your mother sighs, “You’ve been out for three days. Three. You can’t blame me for being worried about you — or upset.”

And you don’t.

Three days is a long time. You reach a hand up, taking note of the bandages wrapped around your head. You’re not even sure how you ended up back in your room.

“Just… Remember what the doctors said.” And you do remember! But it was an emergency. One that you couldn’t risk letting pass you by. She speaks again, her voice stern. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You sit there in silence, taking her words in. The heavy tears on your lower lids fall, dampening the blanket in droplets.

“It’s around that time of year again, I know. I’m so sorry you’re going through this. As a mother I wish I could protect you from this kind of hurt.” She stops, voice wavering as her own eyes grew glossy. “But it’s also why I can’t risk losing you either.”

You want to say something, anything to make her stop. It’s not the same.

“I don’t doubt that you saw something, but I want you to understand that it was late at night, and you’re still grieving.”

Your jaw is starting to ache from how hard you’re clenching your teeth — fury below the surface of your frustration.

Of course she doesn’t believe you.

Why would you be foolish enough to think she would?

She sighs, the lecture coming to an end. “Don’t destroy yourself for this, okay?” Your mother reaches out and covers your exposed hand with her own. It takes everything in you not to snatch it away.

“Promise me, please.”

You meet her eyes, the sorrow swimming in them makes you feel like you’re drowning, so you do the only thing you can think of — you nod, and agree.

“I promise.”

And you do. It won’t destroy you to find out the truth. You’ll be okay and intact. No promises will be broken, not again.

You go out to the forest that night. Even though your head is still wrapped in bandages and you get dizzy if you turn your head a little too fast — you still go. You have to.

It’s eating you up and you have to be sure you weren't hallucinating.

Your mother has been keeping a close eye on you. She’s so worried, not only about your physical health but your mental health as well. And you don’t blame her. To have her only daughter fall out in the forest and wake up claiming to see her dead best friend? It’s worrisome, but you know better.

You wave the flashlight in your hand, backtracking your steps in the forest.

It's fruitless, due to the fresh fallen snow and lack of footprints. But that doesn’t deter you. You know he was here, he had to be.

After what felt like an hour of a search, you decide to turn back, knowing there would be no point as the snowfall increased. It would eventually make things harder to see and you would rather not get stuck in a snowstorm.

Fuyumi won’t say it out loud but she is worried about you.

She’s worried you have finally gone off the deep end and you are too far gone to be brought back to shore.

“Fuyumi, I know what I saw. It was him — I swear!” You pleaded, knowing how you must sound.

She knows how much you love Touya, and how devastated you were, but what she doesn’t understand is what you mean when you say you saw him.

Her eyes were filled with sadness and …pity. The same pity that’s been haunting you for days now. “I believe you saw something. I don’t want to shut you down, it’s just… I know how your quirk is. I know what happens if you overuse it. It could have been in your mind right before you went out.”

You scoff in shock, eyes wide and disbelieving of what you’re hearing. Of all people you thought Fuyumi would understand, or at least hear you out.

She doesn't understand. She wouldn’t understand.

You shake your head, eyes downcast as you fight the familiar burn of tears in your eyes, muttering under your breath, “I know what I saw.”

Those were his eyes. It was his nose and his hair. It was Touya.

This doesn’t stop her from trying to comfort you, bringing that familiar hand to your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. What would usually feel like a comfort is now a vice, suffocating you as you drown is the reality around you.

No one will believe a word you say.

“Maybe,” she starts, words careful and gentle, knowing you were as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any sudden movement. “Maybe Touya is watching over you in some way. Like a guardian angel.”

The warm tears fall now, unable to be held back by your crumbling will.

“I know how hard it is, really, I do. But I want you to know that you’re not alone, okay?” You can feel Fuyumi’s gaze on you, silently pleading for you to look up, look at her, but you won't. You can’t. You know what you saw and it doesn’t matter if anyone believes you.

You would never stop looking for Touya.

Fuyumi lets you go and it feels like you can breathe again. She has become such a good friend over the years, second best to Touya, but it’s not the same.

You go to stand, having had enough of crying for one week and she stops you.

“Wait, I don’t want you to go! At least stay for dinner with us. Does your mom work late tonight?”

You nod, she usually does on Fridays.

“Then it’s settled. Stay over, let's watch movies or something.” She falters, eyes to the floor as she bites her bottom lip, “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

Something in your heart tugs and you agree, moving to join her once more in the living room.

Fuyumi may not understand, but she was still your close friend. “Okay, but I get to choose the movie, though.”

And she smiles.

For now, you would be okay.

—----------------------

“It’s so stupid!”

There’s a flash of fire and a tree goes up in flames. Touya is upset.

“It’s just not fair.”

“I know…” You drag, hating when he got this way. “But it’s what they told me.”

“That means we can’t be heroes together anymore!”

The wave of sadness you feel makes your head hurt and eyes water. “I know… I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, they told me I had to stop training, too. Dad said he wouldn’t do it anymore because I hurt myself. You know what I say to that? Who cares! We can be strong if we want to. It's not fair.”

You know it’s not fair.

You are seven years old when the doctors tell you that you cannot continue to use your quirk.

Telekinesis is not only rare, but it is dangerous. Not just to you, but to others around you. The doctors were very clear about what would happen if you lost control or if you overexerted yourself.

The consequences could be devastating.

But quirks are such an important part of one’s life and for them to tell you to just not use them? It’s unheard of.

It also doesn’t help that Touya has another sibling on the way. One that his father is eerily excited about.

“Do you remember our promise?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You nod, knowing the promise is something you could never forget.

“Well, I think it's more important than ever now. If they dont want us to do it, then we just shouldn’t tell them.” There is a determined purpose in his voice as he turns to face you, committed eyes meeting yours.

“I don’t know, Touya. That sounds like lying.”

“It’s not if you don’t say anything.” He insists, tone even.

Your gaze falls to the ground, watching as the wind blows the leaves along the snow. It’s like their own secret dance. Your promise is beginning to feel more like a secret dance as well.

“Look,” Touya starts, walking towards you and capturing your attention once more, “I swear, if anything happens, I’ll just say I did it.”

You shake your head, brows furrowed in confusion and fists clenched, “No! Then you would get in trouble, and what if we can’t hang out anymore? We can be in this together, Touya.”

He smiles, soft and sweet. Your dedication relaxes him more than he thought it would.

His warm hands are on your face again, warming your cheeks and the butterflies that have been living in your stomach go wild again. You absently wonder if you should tell your mother about it.

“Your nose is all red again, Rudolph.” He says before bringing you closer and brushing his nose against yours.

You were sure if your face got any warmer you would probably explode.

Touya carries on, walking away from you and further into the forest. You trail behind, even though you knew this part of it well, you still didn’t want to run the risk of getting lost.

“Where are we going?” Your voice carries in this part of the woods, and it sounds more like a shout.

“I found this cool spot the other day! Let me show you.”

Confident as always, Touya trails through and you speed up to chase him.

Now you're sure your face is red, but he doesn't mention it again.

“It’s down here.” Touya points and there’s a drop to get to the area.

It only takes a jump and he lands on his feet — he makes it look so easy, but you know he’s probably gotten a lot of practice and put himself in positions more dangerous than this.

There’s that doubt in the forefront of your mind again, the fear that makes you hesitate. “I don’t like heights, Touya.”

“It’s okay! C’mon, I’ll catch you. It’s just a little further.” He’s reassuring as he holds out his arms.

Always fearless Touya.

You trust him, and it’s all you can think as you close your eyes and give yourself a little running start and then jump.

There’s a ringing in your ears again and you don’t feel his arms right away, instead you feel light. As light as a feather as you drift down to the ground.

The lack of impact makes the fear ebb away as you open your eyes. There’s Touya, arms out and waiting as he watches you with widened eyes filled with wonder.

You’ve somehow activated your quirk and slowed your own fall. You absently think that it almost feels kind of fun, the way you softly land in Touya’s waiting arms.

“Whoa,” he starts, eyes never leaving yours. “You looked like an angel or something.”

You don’t know why, but the comparison makes your cheeks flush as you fight for a way to respond.

Nothing comes to mind and you only bite down a smile. You’ve never tried something like that before with your quirk and the excitement makes your fear fade away.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Me either,” you shrug. It’s new to you too, and you weren’t against trying it again.

“Well, c'mon, let’s go before it gets dark.” And he’s taking off, pulling you along with him by the hand. The wind is chilly but it doesn’t completely cool you. Touya keeps you warm, from the outside by his hand and from the inside with his words. Maybe there was more to his fire quirk than you thought.

“Don’t run so fast, Touya!”

He laughs, but slows down for you, looking back and flashing a smile, “Whatever you say, angel.”

—-------------

It’s the end of March and spring is on the way.

The snow melting, the rain clouds are rolling their way in, readying to greet April and bring life to the incoming May flowers, and your mother—

“We need them by tonight!” She yells through the phone and it’s enough to make you hold the device far away from your ear.

“I heard you the first time, mom.” You sigh, looking around again for the small shop and making your way towards it. “I’ll have all the stuff by then. The party will be fine, I promise.”

Tonight is your father’s big homecoming day from overseas. He’s been working away from home for eight months now and your mother has decided to throw him a welcome home party at the last minute. He will be here by tonight and so will the guests — if you finish in time everything will go according to plan.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” Her voice presses and you hum in response. You know how she wants things to be, but your father isn’t picky. He’s the most easy going man you know and if there’s a hiccup here and there, well, you’re sure he won't mind.

“Okay, mom.” You start, grabbing your items and making your way to the checkout line. “I’m about to check out now, so I’ll let you know when I'm on the way home.”

She sighs on the other end, but lets you go, not before fully explaining why she needs the banners and streamers in a certain color and you cut her off, hanging up and checking out.

It's been a few months since the incident in the forest and you’ve given up trying to make anyone see your point of view. They all thought you were hallucinating, but you knew better. You saw Touya. There was nothing they could say or do to make you think otherwise.

You heave a sigh and continue your walk through the town thinking of the countless decorations you will undoubtedly have to help your mother hang for the night. It gives you something to do, but god, last minute events were not your favorite.

There aren’t as many people out and about this time of day and you're thankful. It’s almost peaceful, the way you can weave through the sparse crowd and get lost in your own thoughts.

Until you see it.

It makes you stop in your tracks, heart beating so loud in your chest you could feel it pulsing in your ears.

White hair and blue eyes.

You take a few hurried steps to the alley you know you saw the figure go into.

He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled up, but you knew the moment he turned and his eyes met yours. Touya.

Without a second thought you dropped the bags you were holding and ran after him. He was halfway through the window of an abandoned building when you made down the alley, but was swift as he jumped through it. There was no doubt Touya was fast, but you wouldn’t let him get away. Not this time.

You follow him, jumping through the same window and chasing as he maneuvers through the dusty dilapidated building. It’s hard to catch your breath and you are sure you’re running on pure adrenaline now, but none of that matters.

All that matters now is that you aren’t crazy. It was broad daylight when you locked eyes. You know Touya is alive.

“Touya, wait!” You barely register the tears running down your face as you run, but you dont care to wipe them away. Why would he run from you? Why would he hide from you? There are so many questions that you need answered. “Stop!”

He takes a left turn and you follow, before seeing him dip right and it’s getting harder and harder to keep up. After the last incident you refuse to use your quirk. Not unless you wanted to ruin your chances and pass out again.

At one point you lose him completely, but there is no outlet in the dusty room you’ve cornered him in. He has to be hiding somewhere.

“Touya, please! If that’s you,” you yell out, voice hoarse from emotion, “please, come back. Talk to me.” You’re looking around the dark room, walking further in and searching for something, anything that shows his presence.

You make the mistake of having your back to the door, the only exit in the room and Touya darts out, passing you and making it back into the main part of the building.

You curse before hurrying behind him, but it was too late. All you could see was him hopping the window and landing on his feet below. It was too high for you to follow so you only grip the window pane, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as you watched him run.

“What about our promise?” You yell, wondering if your words could reach him.

There’s a sick feeling forming in your gut and you try to pull yourself together — wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt and the sobs shook your body. You had a party to prepare for and you couldn’t keep playing this game of back and forth.

Your mother gives you an earful when you arrive home much later than you were supposed to, but she was so focused on getting your father’s welcome home party together that she let you off the hook easily.

As long as you helped her hang the decorations.

There is a tense air around the both of you and you know your mother is hesitating asking. You aren't sure if it’s to save you the trouble of a pointless conversation or if she is just tired of hearing about it.

You decide not to tell her of your latest meeting. Brushing off any odd stares and worried glances with excuses of being tired. It was not wise to tell anyone what you saw. They would only think of you as the girl who cried wolf.

When your father made it home you knew he could tell something was off with you by just one look alone.

He participated in the socializing and games until the crowd died down and people began to leave. You had called it a night long ago and made your way to your room, headphones on and catching up on homework.

There was a knock loud enough to hear through the headphones, making you remove one and causing you to turn and see your father standing at the door.

“Yes?” You ask, unsure what he could want at this hour.

He gives you a small smile, one as gentle and kind as you've always known him to be, and asks to come in — taking a seat on your bed while you close the book at your desk.

“I wanted to talk.” He started, watching as you removed the headphones from your head completely and gave him your undivided attention, sure that this would be about what’s been going on lately.

“Have you started looking for colleges?”

The question surprises you, and you shake your head. You should start looking soon, since you turn seventeen soon and only have one year left, but it hasn’t been your main priority. “No, I haven’t.”

He only smiles, eyes crinkling shut as he waves off your worried expression, “It’s fine! I actually had an alternative for you. It’s something I've been looking into during the business trip.”

Your interest is officially piqued as you urge him to continue.

“Well, I’m sure you know this, but you have a pretty rare quirk.” He starts, tone leveled, “I’ve been working on research studies and there’s somewhere I found that would love to have you intern and learn more about it.”

You tilt your head. “You want me to be a guinea pig?”

“No!” Your father laughs, already knowing how it would sound. “No, not that at all. I want to understand your quirk better, and for you to understand it better. I think it would be good for you. A chance to grow.”

To grow. You narrow your eyes at the words, starting to understand what he was getting at. “So you’ve heard.”

“I did. And before you get upset — I believe you. I will always believe you, and that's why I want you to do this." His words make your eyes widen and he continues. “It’s in a small town a little further away, but the internship comes with your own apartment and a stipend for food. Your mother and I will still support you, of course...”

You hold a hand up to stop him, “wait, how far away is the town?”

Your father rubs the back of his neck, an anxious habit he’s had as long as you could remember. “About four hours from here.”

“Four hours?” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be but you can't help it, standing to your feet in disbelief.

“It’s such a good opportunity for you, honey. This town… has too many memories. It’ll help you grow. At least tell me you’ll consider it?”

It feels like hours before you speak again, the stunned feeling hijacking your body. But you do respond, you owe him that much.

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” You give, taking your seat at your desk again. It feels like your mind is swimming, but you had to at least mull it over.

“Thank you,” your father stands and hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before exiting your room. “I promise it won't be so bad. Goodnight, honey, I love you.”

You only nod in response. Maybe getting away would be good for you.

The first day you find a gift it is raining outside.

You stumble up to your front doorstep, closing your umbrella and shaking off the excess water.

“What the…” You reach down to pick up the little box, and turn it over to examine it. Maybe your mother got something delivered.

The thought follows you into the home as you pull off your raincoat and rainboots, making your way to the kitchen where your mother had started on dinner.

“Oh, welcome home.” She greets, stirring the pot of soup and eyeing the box in your hand. “What do you have there?”

Your brows furrow as you take a seat at the table. “I thought you would know. It’s not for you?”

“Nope.”

The response only makes your brows furrow more as you search for maybe a name or any indication that it was delivered to the wrong place.

“You should open it.” Your mother pipes up and you shrug, ripping the paper and opening the box.

You drop the box the moment you see the item.

There was no way.

“What? What's the matter?” Your mother questions, her eyes filled with worry as she reaches for the box.

You snatch it away from her and dart off to your room, supplying her with an excuse about how you don’t feel well before locking yourself in your bedroom.

The box held a golden locket inside of it. It was in the shape of a heart and you were terrified to open it and see what lay inside of it. You decide that the suspense would be too much and open it anyway — the photo makes your breath hitch.

It was you and Touya.

You, with your bright eyes and happy smile and Touya, half white and half red hair looking at you as you hug him, cheeks pressed together.

There was no denying it now. Touya was alive and he was hiding from you.

Maybe he’s watching over you — like a guardian angel. Fuyumi’s voice rang in your head as you fought the tears blurring your vision.

Why would he send you this and not talk to you?

All of it made your head spin as you thought of the countless reasons and possibilities. You didn't bother to wipe the tears from your eyes as they rolled down your cheeks. Only opting to lay down in your bed, holding the locket close to your chest as you stared at the ceiling above.

It made no sense. Touya could trust you, so why would he hide from you?

Unless he didn’t want to be found.

The next gifts come in different forms and sizes, ranging from your favorite snack to cute cards.

Always something small but never with a note or handwriting. It was almost like he truly didn’t want to be found.

And maybe he didn’t.

It’s scary at first, receiving random gifts and items from someone who might as well be a ghost, but as the months went on you grew used to it and even began to expect it at some point.

Now you knew you could rest easy knowing that Touya was alive and maybe, just maybe he was waiting on the right moment to come out. You would trust him.

It also doesn’t take long for you to come to a decision with your fathers offer.

It’s an amazing opportunity and you should take advantage of that while you can. You tell him as much and you could feel his excitement through the phone call. He was away on business again, but he would handle most of the heavy lifting, all you had to do was apply and wait on your offer once you graduate.

There was just one thing you had to do before you left.

—--------------------

You are eighteen years old when you leave Musutafu.

By this time you couldn’t take it anymore. Either Touya had gotten better at hiding or he knew you would be leaving soon, but there was nothing else from him — and there hadn’t been for months. At this point it felt like glimpses of the past haunting you. Every part of the city reminded you of him and of your childhood together.

Fuyumi was upset to see you go, but she understood.

You still believed, deep down, she thought you were losing your mind.

You needed this though – needed a getaway. The ghost of Touya was holding you down, holding you back.

Even though the gifts stopped coming months ago.

She is kind as she hugs you and waves you off, knowing that one main reason for your company in her home was to visit Touya’s shrine. She does not stop you, does not ask questions — not after the time she mentioned how you didn’t bring him up as often.

There was no need to. You only told her that you’ve moved past that and you knew Touya was watching over you, a small smile on your face as you touched the locket dangling from your neck. Fuyumi didn’t bring the topic up again.

Today is the day you leave. You had waited and waited for any sign of Touya again, but there was nothing. So you took matters into your own hands, making a little bag of gifts and a card that held the new updates to your life and address.

It was a long shot, but it was a chance you had to take.

Once you finished, it didn't take long to make your way back home, gathering your things as your parents insisted on driving you to the train stop. With your mother buzzing around you like a bee, making sure everything was perfect before you went off on your own.

The idea of new beginnings had begun to feel a little more welcomed.

Your new apartment is small.

It is small and cozy and just enough for you. It’s a comfortable one bedroom place and you can only imagine all the ways you will decorate the space.

The town is also cozy and quaint – one that is reminiscent of old fairy tales, but a lot less magical. You can't help but sigh at the mundane routine you’ve fallen into since you’ve arrived. A nice walk from your apartment to the research lab, and from the research lab to your home. Since it’s summer there aren't many researchers on campus, so you have more than enough time to explore the parks and stores.

One week turns into two and then two weeks turn into a month. You’ve gotten used to the small town and the people that live there. It's become relaxing and the new routine has eased your nerves. Maybe your father was right about needing a change.

But no matter what you do, you cannot stop thinking about Touya.

The thought of leaving him is heavy, but when you touch your locket, you know it is for the best.

Everything changes on a Thursday night.

It’s a normal night, one where there is no need to go to the lab, so you hang around in the apartment — setting up cozy lights and posters from home. It’s beginning to come together more and more everyday, and you decided to end it all with a simple and easy meal. One that you could mindlessly eat while watching a movie.

It's a foolproof plan, really.

You’re stirring the pot of noodles, humming a tune when you hear the knocks at your door. It is dark outside, and you haven’t made enough friends to warrant visitors, so the idea of a guest at this hour sends alarms ringing in your mind.

You grip the wooden spoon tight as you take cautious steps to your door, knowing that if it came down to it you would be more than ready to whack whoever trespassed.

“Who is it?” You call out, loud enough for the intruder to hear, but get no response.

At this point you are sure it was just your imagination and you turn, ready to get back to your noodles, when the knocks sound throughout the apartment again.

Frustrating is the only thought on your mind as you stomp towards your front door, ready to give whoever was on the other side of it a piece of your mind for interrupting your peaceful night with this bullshit—

The door swings open and your words die on your tongue.

Cerulean blue looks down at you and you were right — he has gotten taller.

“Hey, angel.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You wouldn’t believe your eyes because if you did you would see Touya, your childhood best friend Touya on your doorstep. Real and in the flesh, hair white as snow and eyes worn with fatigue.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you are shellshocked, only stepping to the side as your eyes follow his every move.

This was a moment you thought of for years after your first encounter in the forest, and for him to be here, with you. It didn’t feel real.

“Touya,” you gasp, voice low as if being any louder would wake you from this dream you must be having.

“I know.” His eyes are downcast with a sorrow you’ve never seen in him before, “I.. have a lot I want to tell you.”

It’s at that moment that the timer for your ramen goes off, startling you both and sending you rushing to the kitchen. You offer him a seat and insist that you’ve made enough for the both of you.

There was so much you needed to discuss, so much to catch up on. You didn’t know where to start.

The little table you use to eat on is small, but perfect for the two of you, you realize as you set both bowls down and hand him a set of metal chopsticks.

Your heart was in overdrive as you ran through thousands of things to ask, millions of unspoken words to say. You’ve imagined this moment in your head for years. Time and time again you’ve thought of what you would say to him, what you would do if you ever saw him again.

Now the opportunity has presented itself and all you can manage is a wide eyed look as you both quietly eat your ramen.

Surreal.

This moment feels surreal and you’re sure that if you make any sudden movements or ask any loud questions, that it would be gone. Touya would be gone, disappearing in an instant and leaving you alone in your apartment.

He speaks first, saving you the trouble of searching for words. “The food was good.”

His voice sounds scratchy, like it hasn’t been used in years and you can't help but wonder why.

“Thank you.” It’s all you can manage to get out, stunned to your core and desperately searching for words.

You go to stand, taking the empty bowls with you to the kitchen and Touya follows suit, trailing behind in the small space of the apartment and you are hyper aware of his presence.

You can feel the warmth of his body even when he is steps away from you. It radiates and blankets you in feelings you haven’t felt in years.

As you place the bowls in the sink you can’t help but wonder where should you go from here. It’s a thought that plagues you as you grip the edge of the sink, fists tight and head hung low while you brace yourself to turn around, to face the reality of the truth standing right behind you—

You do it. You turn and it’s not a dream. It’s not your imagination, you conclude as you look into Touya's eyes, blue and familiar. Eyes you would know anywhere.

His hair is snow white, the last color you saw it as before he—

“You kept it.” His eyes drop to the golden locket around your neck, a small smile pulling at his features.

“Of course I did.” You’re firm, bringing two fingers up to brush against it, the cool feeling bringing you comfort over the last few years.

His gaze seems far away as he zeros in on your locket, “I was worried you wouldn’t, after the last time we—“

“Don’t.” You cut him off, words sharp. “Don’t talk about it. Not tonight.”

You don’t know what you’re doing or where your mind is going as you take a step forward. He’s so different, yet so familiar and you can’t help but reach your hand up to brush over the newly faded scars along his cheek.

Touya leans into the touch, closing his eyes and allowing you to feel.

When he opens them again you get that feeling in your chest that always pulls at you and for the first time, you can finally place a word to the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer, vision blurring with tears as you fight for your words, “I’m sorry I didn’t—“

Touya stops you, crashing his lips into yours and effectively silencing your racing thoughts. It’s warm and he’s so close, you wish you could pull him closer but you settle for this, allowing the tears to freely roll down your cheeks.

When he pulls away there is only the smallest distance between you two. Noses so close they are almost touching.

“I don’t care about any of that,” his eyes are so focused on yours, it feels like he’s put you in a trance. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, anyway.”

Before you could even shake your head, tell him no it’s the other way around, he’s pulling you back into a kiss, one so soft and so gentle you feel as though his lips were made for yours.

It presses on, your hands finding his hair, soft and fluffy as you’ve always known it, while his hands hold your waist, pulling you in and keeping you close.

This is not your first kiss, and it’s not Touya's either. You both decided at around eleven years old that you would try to emulate your parents and see what the fuss was about. Surely enough, you didn’t think you did it right because there was nothing. No sparks, no fireworks — just lips pressed together.

You were both too young at the time, you now realize as you wrap your arms around Touya's neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Way too young to realize that love is not fairytales and fireworks.

Love is slow, it is steady and it is this — right here, right now, kissing your best friend in your tiny apartment kitchen.

It’s perfect, you think as you both make your way to the bedroom, Touya trailing behind you for once as you lead him through the space. Hushed laughs and soft smiles dance together as you fall onto the bed.

He is above you, and you wonder how you could have ever lived without his presence. The thought makes you sick.

“I love you.” And it’s not your lips that moved, not your voice. It’s Touya, as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. “I never stopped loving you.”

“Touya…” Your heart swells and it’s then you feel it. The droplets of tears, falling from his eyes and onto your cheeks. They were as warm as he had always been and you waste no time pulling him down into another kiss — pulling away only enough to press your foreheads together. “I’ve always loved you.”

And you have. Even in death you loved him, nothing could take that love away from you.

The next kiss is hungry, teeth and tongues clashing in a rush as you both fought to remove your clothes. You have regretted all the things that went unsaid, the actions that went undone and you were both not going to waste any of this new time you had been given.

You feel one of Touya's fingers prod your entrance and the hesitation reminds you that you’re both inexperienced. New to the world of sex, but forever patient. You could guide each other, you decide as you gasp when he slowly slips a finger inside, slick coating the digit and making the press easier.

Touya watches you with heavy lidded eyes as he pumps the digit, causing you to whine at the pressure. He pulls out soon after, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves and giving a sly smirk when you moan at the touch. He’s found it and wastes no time rubbing circles, slow at first to get a feel of what makes you tick, but gaining more confidence as he goes on.

There was a pressure beginning to build in your lower abdomen and it made you pull him close, thighs tensing as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Close?” His voice is a whisper beside your ear.

You only nod, unable to give him a verbal answer as your pleasure builds.

You can feel his smile as he turns his head, cheeks brushing against yours. “Let go for me, I’ve got you.”

And you do.

You let go of the tension and allow your body to fall into the pleasure of your climax— gasping as it washed over you in waves, sending shocks of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Fuck,” Touya moans above you as he works you through it, only moving to line up with your entrance once you’ve come down from your high.

The press of it makes your breath hitch, but when you look up into Touya’s eyes you feel safe.

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” And you nod, trusting him to be soft and slow.

He’s nervous, too, and you can tell by the way his brows furrowed in focus. He doesn’t want to mess up your first time, but nothing could ruin this moment. Not even the twinge of pain you feel as the head of Touya’s cock pushes past your entrance, the tight muscles constricting against the intrusion.

You reach out, hands finding balance against his back as he pressed on, muttering words of comfort to you and ebbing away the pain.

It doesn’t take long before the pain has been washed away and replaced with the blossoming buzz of pleasure, Touya's hips having a steady pace as he begins to gain more momentum.

The pleasure is quickly building again and you tell him as much, crying out when he snaps his hips at a particular angle and sends a flash of bliss up your spine.

“Fuck, Touya, there! Right there,” you cry and he catches on instantly. He’s always been a fast learner.

The angle he has is perfect as he brushes against the soft spot inside you over and over again, making your thighs shake and toes curl in pleasure as you meet your end once again. The feeling settles deep in your bones as the warmth of it spreads throughout your body like a warm blanket.

Touya isn’t far behind, if his erratic pace was anything to go by. You could only watch in awe as he chased his high, with his brows furrowed and eyes tightly shut. You fall more in love as you feel his hips stutter and then stall, his white hot seed filling you from the inside and making you shudder.

It was a new feeling that you believed you could get addicted to if you weren’t careful.

But none of that mattered right now, because Touya was leaning down, pressing a kiss to your lips and you knew that right here, right now was the most important.

Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #touya x reader #dabi smut #mha x reader #my works #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x you #touya todoroki x you

240 notes · View notes