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books-and-catears · 3 years

Note

Hihihiiiii!!!!! Omg I'm so excited to ask this one-> ok so can you write/headcanon the Brothers and Undatables in a situation where MC can't swim and the brothers + undatables don't know it until one of the squad (Solomon's voodoo) picks MC up and throws them into a pool/fountain on the deep end as a joke? And MC drowns?

Bonus if anyone aside from Satan, Leviathan, and Lucifer know CPR and double bonus if Beel manages to rebibe w/o cracking a rib on MC!!

Aww heyheyhey!!! We love excitement in this house yes we do. Thank you so much for the angsty ask!

It got a bit long so I'll do it in two parts! I hope that's okay? Also I hope I can do it justice :3

It was a summer afternoon in Devildom. Diavolo had invited the whole gang upto his castle. Solomon had recently told him about pool parties and he was excited to try it out.

Everyone came in, already having the time of their lives splish splashing in the water, or going ham on Barbatos and Luke's snacks.

You were there, dipping your feet in water, enjoying the cool feeling between your toes. Everyone kept inviting you in the water, you tried to put them off by saying "Maybe later!"

You could have just said you couldn't swim. But that was too embarassing to admit, so you just shook your head and splashed water at them instead.

Mammon and Asmo were splashing water on you, so you didn't see the Little D's sneak up and hoist you up from behind. Before you knew it, you were sent flying headfirst into the water. Maybe you should have told them, you thought.

Maybe that would be better than the endless blue, the distinct lack of air and burn in your lungs as you tried hard to swim to the surface and lost all energy.

(Part 1: The Brothers)

Lucifer

"MC enough playing around. Come Bach up now." Got tensed when you didn't Immediately float up to the surface.

"MC?" He dived in to check on you. His eyes grew wide when you saw struggling, flapping your hands and feet aimlessly.

"MC HOLD ON!" The panic in his voice was muffled by the water. You felt your body being held and pulled up to the surface.

"MC? MC can you hear me?! MC!" You felt someone shaking you, their hands warm on your arms. And then your lips turned warm.

You'd recognise that kiss anywhere. It was more urgent this time, as Lucifer tried his best to get air into you.

"Luci... fer.." You choke out before coughing violently and spitting the pool water everywhere.

"You're okay..." He lets out the biggest sigh of relief. He holds you tight in his arms and takes you inside to dry you off. "I thought I lost you again..."

"Whoever is responsible for this," The suppressed rage in his voice sounded deadly, "will pay for it."

Mammon

"Oi human! Are ya sulking down there?!" Mammon joked as he dived downwards to bring you up.

"They got ya pretty good huh-" He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the state you were in. Your eyes closed and your limbs horribly limp.

"MC! MC WHAT HAPPENED?!" Mammon grabbed you and pulled you up instantly. Even in your dazed state, you could feel the pounding of his heart and the cracking of his voice.

"MC not again please not again I'm sorry I'm sorry please wake up..." He was crying now. His tears and hands were warm on your skin as pushed at your chest cluelessly.

"THEY'RE NOT WAKING UP! LUCIFER SATAN DIAVOLO SIMEON SOMEONE HELP PLEASE!" He was frantic and clamping his mouth on yours now, gasping more than blowing air.

You coughed and sputtered eventually. "Mammon... you...are exceptionally bad at CPR." Mammon hid his face in your shoulder and hugged you like there's no tomorrow.

You laugh and try to tell him you're okay but all he does is hold you and cry. "I'm the worst protector...I'm so sorry MC.."

Leviathan

"Welcome to my turf, MC!" Levi laughed as he waited for you to float back up. But you weren't. Are you stuck on something? He sees air bubbles on the surface.

He dives down and swims towards you swiftly. "MC OH NO! WAIT MC IM COMING!" He darts to towards you and gets you out the fastest.

He starts to tear up and panic cause this is just like that sad anime "Lost my Best Friend in the Deep". Embarassment be damned, he can't let you go.

He urgently called for his brothers for help and fumbled with you held tightly in his arms. He pushed on your chest and watched the water sputter out.

"MC?? You're okay now, right??! MC!!?" The urgency in Levi's voice caught you off guard. You open your eyes to see him teary eyed and sniffling.

"I'm okay Levi..." You say, your hand reaching to hold his face. He breaks down at your touch.

Pressing his face harder into your hand and crying. He's so glad you're okay. "I thought I lost my best friend...don't worry MC, I'll teach you how to swim!"

Satan

"MC, you do know how to swim right?" Satan called out to you, right after the splash. There was something about the way you fell that made him feel uneasy.

When you didn't float back up, he immediately dunked himself downwards, only to see his suspicions were right.

"MC! It's okay it's okay I've got you!" Satan's arm wrapped around you as he pressed a warm kiss on you under water. The flames in your lungs died down a little.

He rushes you upto the surface and lays down gently, tilting your head at the optimal angle.

His mouth is on you again. Urgently breathing life back into you. He also had spells ready in case this usual way didn't work.

"Satan...? You...thank you.." You said tired as you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him weakly after vehemently coughing.

He lets out a sigh of relief and bumps his lips against your head softly, cradling you in his arms. "Why wouldn't you say that you couldn't swim? Don't do this to me ever again, MC, you're all I have..."

Asmodeus

"MC darling, no need to be embarrassed, you looked so cute when you fell like that! Come up now!" Asmo giggled as he watched the water, waiting for you to come back up.

He gets panicky when you're still not up yet. Swims down as he quickly as he can calling out your name. "OH NO! MC WHAT'S GOING ON?! MC!"

He reaches for your hands and starts tugging you towards him. Why are your eyes closed like this? Why have you gone limp?!

He pulls you up to the surface, frantically calling out to Satan and Solomon for help, all the while bouncing you in his arms like a baby as a attempt to gain conciousness.

He's full on sobbing as he Solomon gives you CPR. The moment you cough and sputter, he pounces on you, his head pressed against your cold chest, now rising and falling normally.

"Asmo... don't cry...I'm okay.." You say weakly smiling and trying to hug him back, running your hands in his hair.

He holds you close and presses kisses on your whole face."MC! You gave me such a fright! Don't do that again please, MC! I can't bear the though of you gone again!"

Beelzebub

"Ah I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you MC" Beel even had his arms outstretched so he could catch you before you fell, but he missed.

He's fastest to get to you after Levi. "MC? Are you okay down there- MC?! Why are you being like that?!" He gets frantic and scoops your limp body in his arms.

This is his worst nightmare. He urgently gets to the surface panicking inside. "MC..please wake up.." He calls out sadly, as he gently lays you down.

You're barely breathing. He knows what he has to do. But you're so fragile compared to him he doesn't want to hurt you.

He tries as gently as possible to push against your chest to regulate your breathing again.

"Beel..Beel..." You cough out his name as you reach up to hold his face in your hands. He stops immediately and engulfs you in a hug.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. His teary eyes and tight grip as he lifts you up and takes you inside the house to feed you, says everything you need to know.

Belphegor

"MC you're so easy to sneak upon hehe. Come here and lie with me." He was just snoozing at the edge, smiling down at where you just fell.

What's taking you so long to come back up?He impatiently dived downwards to find you. And he was horrified by what he saw. "MC?!Damnit MC, why didn't you call for me!?"

He hoists you into his arms and tries giving you a kiss of air like he'd seen in Levi's shows. Still unsure of what to do, he just hurries you up to the surface.

"They were struggling to swim. Something's wrong. Fix them please. Fix them fast." He said, calling out to his brothers. He held your hand shakily and lay next to you, as Beel gave you CPR. His grip tightened once you started coughing.

"Belphie... I'm okay..." You squeezed his hand as tight as you could. He hid head in your shoulder before picking you up in his arms.

He wrapped you up in a towel and tried to make you fall asleep in his arms. "That was a horrible feeling. I don't want to feel that again." He mutters to himself while holding you closer.

#obey me headcanon #obey me ask #obey me angst #obey me comfort #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #obey me game #obey me imagine #obey me brothers #obey me brothers x mc #obey me x reader

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fandom-puff · 3 years

Text

All Day Long

Relationship: Remus x Sirius x Reader (marauders era)

Requested by: anon

‘RemusxReaderxSirius set during their time at hogwarts where they both tease her during the whole day until shes begging them to ruin her?’

Notes: this is only the second time I’ve written remus x reader x Sirius so hope you enjoy!

Warnings: threesome (in an established polyamorous relationship) teasing, edging, use of toys, choking, Dom/sub dynamic (including degradation), double penetration, swearing.

****

Smiling to yourself, you waited in the entrance hall for your boys, all bundled up and ready for hogsmeade, dressed in one of Sirius’s quidditch jerseys and Remus’s scarf. Once you caught sight of them, you hurried over, easily slotting yourself in the middle of them. “Ready to go?” You asked brightly, but Sirius grabbed hold over your elbow, leaning down.

“Before we get going, Remus and I have some rules for you, okay, pup?” You bit your lip, only just clicking onto the dark look in Sirius’s eyes, nodding quickly.

“You’re not to come until we say so, and that will be when we’re back at the castle,” Remus murmured and you nodded again. “Verbal answers, darling,”

“I’m okay with that,” you said softly, eyes flicking between them both.

“Good girl. We will of course, be making it a bit trickier for you, but I’m sure you’ll manage,” Sirius said, before clapping his hands together. “Right then my lovelies, I do believe we need to make a quick visit to Zonko’s,”

***

This was a bad idea. When Sirius said they’d make it ‘a bit trickier’, what he really meant was they’d make it ‘a lot trickier’- damn near impossible. It all started out relatively moderate, with Sirius just resting his hand on your bum while he looked at the displays, giving it the occasional squeeze or pat which went unnoticed by the bustling crowds.

Then Remus flicked his wand and muttered something under his breath and-

You gasped aloud, quickly covering your noise with a gasp. Remus had clearly been practicing his vanishing charms- a vibrator had appeared in your underwear, already in position with part of it inside you, the other part on your clit. He must’ve been hiding it in his pocket, waiting for the right moment. To your relief, the toy didn’t start buzzing straight away, but the knowledge that it was there (and completely out of your control) turned you on. Composing yourself, you waited for Sirius to pay, before the boys guided you to Honeydukes.

As you were browsing the newest range of sweets, remus flicked his wand again, and the toy began buzzing ever so gently, not nearly enough to stimulate you properly, but enough to get you considerably more riled up. You glared at him over your shoulder as you picked out your sweets, before taking them to the till. Just as the lady asked how your day had been, remus changed the setting of the vibe, to a strong pulsing sensation as you hurriedly gave your answer, your knees trembling. The woman talked and talked as she bagged your items and Remus only increased the settings more, smirking with Sirius as he watched you try to remain upright. When the woman finally handed you your purchases, you stumbled over to your boys, biting your lip hard.

“Please,” you whispered desperately. “I’m so close,”

Sirius grinned and steered you out of the shop, an arm around your waist as you stumbled. “That right, pup? Gonna cum from a toy in your knickers, eh?”

You nodded quickly, gripping his hand until... the vibe switched off completely. You looked up to remus now, who was smirking and tutting. “Remember thd rules darling?” He said, almost condescendingly, before leaning down to kiss your cheek. As he pulled away, he muttered “we will not allow you to cum in the middle of the street like a little slut,”

You squeaked in response and nodded before slipping each of your hands into one of theirs. “Do you want to go home, sweetheart?” Remus said gently after a brief bit of wondering- through which he and Sirius had took turns controlling the vibe, bringing you to the edge and dragging you away every few minutes.

“Yes please,” you mumbled, nodding eagerly and looking up at both of them pleasingly. “Please can we go back,”

“Awww, what’s wrong, pet, are you desperate for us? Desperate for us to completely ruin your sweet cunt?” You shivered at Sirius’s crass words but nodded nonetheless, and the three of you began a rather hurried walk back to the castle.

***

Door firmly locked to avoid any unwanted visitors (unlikely, as James, lily and Peter were still in honeydukes while you had been walking back), you were being showered in kisses, pinned against the wall by Sirius as remus transfigured his bed to be a little wider to fit all three of you. When he was finally, finally done, Sirius pulled you over, and you eagerly tossed your coat and scarf aside before remus came up behind you, pressed firmly against your back, grinding his stiff cock against your arse as he switched the vibe on. Sirius grinned, tossing your jumper aside and magicking your jeans away- it seemed he too was getting rather impatient. Remus smirked, unclasping and discarding your bra, until you were bare (save for your knickers as they were holding the toy in place) before them.

“Fuck, princess, you look so good,” remus breathed, kissing your shoulder as your hips rocked in thin air. You whimpered, grabbing at Sirius, who had been gently stroking and pinching your nipples. He smirked slightly.

“What’re you after pup?” He smirked and your eyelids fluttered.

“Your mouth, please, Sirius, on my tits, please,” you begged, pushing your chest out to him and your bum back into remus. Sirius happily complied, suckling gently on one nipple, continuing to fondle the other with his hand. Remus groaned lowly, feeling you squirm back against his cock, and he grunted, trailing his hand up to your throat. You whimpered softly, tipping your head back and resting it against remus’s shoulder. Just as he applied pressure, he flicked his wand, putting the toy on the maximum setting. You keened, the sound a little broken due to the hand around your throat, your eyes wide. “Please!” You whined. “Please, I’m so close, let me cum, remus, please Sirius, please!” You babbled, unable to stop your wriggling hips and trembling thighs.

Sirius released your nipple with a pop and looked over your shoulder at remus, smirking. “I don’t know... what D’you reckon, Moony?” He smirked, and you whimpered, whole body shaking with effort.

“Don’t be cruel, Pads,” remus grinned, holding you up. “I think our girl deserves to come, don’t you? She has behaved exceptionally well, given the circumstances,”

You moaned softly. Pair of utter bastards, dragging this out as long as they could. You dug your nails into Sirius’s arm, whimpering pathetically. Sirius hummed. “Fine. Cum for us, pup,”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Shaking, screaming and writhing like mad, you came, your hips bucking wildly, hands scrambling to hold onto them both as Remus held you up from behind and Sirius held the toy in place in case you dislodged it.

Moaning lowly, you reached your hand down, the buzzing toy becoming too much. Sirius grinned and removed your knickers and the toy, holding it up to show you as remus pulled you into his lap, shushing you gently. “Look at that, Moons,” Sirius grinned. “Look how wet she made this. Look at the mess you left all over this, puppy,” you whined at his teasing and hid your face in remus’s shoulder. Sirius smiled and came closer.

“We’re both very proud of you, babygirl, you followed the rules so well,” you nodded in response, biting your lip hard. Despite having jusg come, you wanted more, much more, and wriggled your hips absentmindedly, grinding on remus’s cock, while staring at the considerable bulge in Sirius’s jeans.

“What’s up, darling?” Remus cooed. You mumbled into his neck but he lifted your chin. “Use your words,” he instructed and you gulped.

“I-I want your cocks,” you said, trying not to hide your face. “T-together. At the same time,”

Sirius and Remus locked eyes for a moment, both of them inhaling sharply as they felt something primal deep inside. “Do you want one of us in your sweet little cunt, princess?” Remus murmured in your ear.

“And the other in your tight little arse?” Sirius smirked, already reaching for his wand. You gulped and nodded quickly.

“Yes please,” you said eagerly, already scrambling to kneel up. Remus laughed gently.

“Steady on love. C’mere,” he beckoned you to lie on your side, crooking his finger at Sirius to lie facing you.

“Sirius is going to fuck your pussy, aren’t you, Sirius,”

“Hmm,” Sirius grinned, very thankful that magic made undressing so much quicker. You bit your lip hard and palmed his cock as you reached up for a gentle kiss. Sirius soon knocked your hand away, guiding his cock into your dripping cunt. You let out a long, low moan at the feeling of being adequately filled after a day of being on edge.

“There’s a Good pup,” Sirius grunted, grasping your thigh and slinging it over his hip, pulling you closer and fucking you deeper. You let out a whimper, burying your face in his chest as you rocked your hips.

Remus smirked at his two lovers trying (and failing) to hold back. He cleared his throat, pushing your hair out of the way so he could kiss the back of your neck. “I’m going to use a spell to prep your little arsehole, darling,” he murmured into your ear and you nodded eagerly, moaning ‘please’. Remus mumbled something and you squirmed, tensing up and making Sirius groan slightly. Your arse was sufficiently lubed up and, as remus rolled a condom on and pressed the blunt head of his cock to your hole, adequately stretched. He hissed as you clenched slightly, before pushing back against him, taking more and more of him until his was fully inside you.

Both of your boys stopped for a moment, letting you squirm and adjust and get comfortable once more, before you looked up at them frantically. “Please move!” You begged, trying to push back into Remus and forward into Sirius to urge them to move.

“You want us to fuck you, pup?” Sirius groaned. “Want us to pound your holes until you scream?” You nodded desperately, wriggling, squirming.

“Good girl,” remus groaned, grasping onto your hip as he began a slow steady pace. It was a heavy contrast from the brutal rate at which Sirius was fucking your pussy, and your head swam with the sensation. You were just so damn full and you were loving every second of it, a garbled, barely coherent mix of names and curses and praises spilling from your mouth.

Remus grunted and reached over you, pulling on Sirius’s hair, smirking as he growled. “Fucking hell,” Sirius groaned, his eyes rolling back. “So tight, puppy, can feel you squeezing mine and Remus’s cocks,” he praised you and you whined out.

“Please more, please, faster, please!” You whined, arching your back. Sirius and Remus nodded at one another before stopping briefly. You were about to complain, but they began thrusting into you, in sync. While previously they had alternated, reducing you to a whimpering mess, this change of pace had you screaming in ecstasy, the double penetration nigh on doubling your pleasure. “Gonna come!” You moaned out, every muscle in your body tensing before the band snapped and you shattered, coming with lustful cries of their names. Remus groaned, tipping his head back, cock twitching inside of you as he came, and Sirius followed soon after with a shout.

Limp, spent and almost asleep, you withered, trembling with the aftershocks. Groaning, Sirius kissed you hard, praising you, before remus tilted your head for an equally passionate kiss. “Was amazin’” you slurred, well and truly worn out. Remus laughed softly, using magic to clean you all off, summoning a goblet and filling it with water.

“Drink, both of you,” he ordered gently, and you were both happy to comply, as once you had finished, Sirius tugged the blanket over you all, snuggling under the covers with you. You turned to nuzzle into Remus’s chest as Sirius did the same to your back, his arms coming around your waist. You smiled softly as you all exchanged mumbled ‘I love you’s, slipping off into a much needed sleep.

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#remus x reader x sirius #wolfstar x reader #remus lupin x reader smut #Remus Lupin x Sirius black #remus lupin x reader x sirius #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black smut #harry potter #hp #request #harry potter imagine #wolfstar #wolfstar smut #2021

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—chapter four: white lies

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.5k

summary: it came easy to you to lie. but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

previous || next

one year and 6 months ago

April was exceptionally moody that year.

Every day you woke up to either heavy rainfall or a beautiful, cloudless sky. Alternatively, it could also snow for a couple of hours just to have it all vanish once the sun reappeared. As much as you loved Spring, you hated the capricious weather with passion.

It was a normal, peaceful, Saturday afternoon. Saturday meant no classes to attend, no work to do on the side. It was just you in your small, cozy apartment, tucked underneath the blanket and binge-watching Attack On Titan.

You were never an anime enthusiast per se, but you happened to befriend a doe-eyed weeb all those years ago. Your current occupation was just a part of the aftermath. It wasn’t like Jungkook was obsessed, not at all. He was actually far from it. Now, at the tender age of twenty-three, his old hobby was like a relapse. His love for anime was coming in waves every once in a while, gradually transforming into a two-months-long hyperfixation and then, it was nothing. And the cicle continued.

He was currently in the stage of re-watching Attack On Titan, hence why you had been forced to finally give the damned anime a try as well. Hell, he was even coming over tonight to have a marathon with you.

(He’d said that season three, his favourite, you had to watch alongside him.)

You: eren's annoying little shit

Jungkook: told you so

You: but levi? damn I’d sell my soul for him

Jungkook: for a 5’2 emotionally unavailable man?

You: yep. that’s my type

It was far from truth. As much as you liked Captain Levi, he wasn’t Jungkook. You are my type, you wanted to write instead. There hadn’t been a man in my life who managed to even come close to you. But, as always, you kept those confessions to yourself.

Right when you were about to play another episode, your phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: I have a weird question

You: I’m used to that

You: shoot your shot.

Jungkook: what’s your finger size?

Confused, you read his last message once again. That was indeed a weird fucking question to ask, you thought. You had never really been a fan of rings. You only owed one - a gift from your grandmother she gave you for your sixteenth birthday. Rummaging thorough your drawer, you found it in a separate, black case.

It still fit just right, so you took a ruler, measured the size and googled the results.

You: it’s 7.5 I guess

You: why do you ask tho?

Jungkook: I need you to go somewhere with me before our marathon if that’s okay

You: you didn’t answer my question

You: but okay. what time?

Jungkook: ill pick you up at 5pm

Jungkook: you’ll see

Maybe it was for the better he hadn’t told you where he was taking you. If you had know, you would have backed away last minute. Come up with so lame excuse, blame it all on a headache or period cramps.

If you had known Jungkook was taking you to pick up an engagement ring for Soojin, you would have never come with him.

When you parked in front of one of the most high-ranking jewellery stores dowtown, the solemnity of the situation hit you like a whiplash. You took a deep, shuddering breath. Jungkook was thinking about marrying Soojin. Jungkook was going to propose to her, soon. He was ready to spent the rest of his life with her.

Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, was about to slip out of your reach for good.

You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. You clenched your fists so tight the knuckles turned white.

“I figured out you could help me,” Jungkook said, breaking the silence and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I checked Soojin's finger size once when she was showering and then I found out that your’s the same and well, you’re a girl so you obviously know more about jewellery than me and–”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off with a dry chuckle. You didn’t want him to speak. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to jumped off his car and ran away from that place as far as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it.”

You smiled at him with reassurance. It was actually hilarious, how you mastered the art of feigning your real feelings when you were with him. It came easy to you to lie but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

“I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about chosing something horrible.”

He grinned and you noticed a dust of pink covering the apples his cheeks. It was hard, so fucking hard seeing him happy because that was all you ever wanted and yet it pained you not to be the main source of it. Jungkook was twenty-three and already so in love he wanted to get married. You were going to see him in a black tux, a prince charming waiting in front of the altar for his princess.

It ached. Why did it ache to see him happy?

The lady who worked at the jewellery store greeted you politely with a bow. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“We are looking for engagement rings.” Jungkook answered.

You could tell she was a bit astounded but her professional smile never faltered when she responded with, “Oh, that’s still quite unusual to see the couple chosing an engagement ring together.”

You were about to protest but then, Jungkook did something you would never expect him to do.

He grasped your hand.

(It was warm. His touch was soothing. Comforting. Then why did it hurt so bad?)

“My girlfriend wants to chose the ring herself but she doesn’t know when she will get it.”

To make matters worse, he sent you a wink. The store’s clerk cooed at the scene and clasped a hand over her chest. For her it was yet another day at work, yet another pair of adults who had decided to get marry.

“You make a really beautiful couple.” she said.

Even Jungkook’s hand squeezing yours couldn’t ease the sting you felt hearing her speak those words to you. You smiled lightly for good measure. She then pointed at the display and gave you some time and space too look at the options.

Your whole face felt hot. Jungkook was still holding your hand, still playing the role of a perfect boyfriend. He didn’t seem to notice what kind of effect it had on you. He didn’t know how fast your heart was beating, how warm his touch felt on your skin. It was all just a silly joke to him.

He leaned closer to you, so the store's clerk couldn’t hear him. His breath tickled your skin. “You’re blushing.” he whispered.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

(No matter how much it hurt you on the inside, you already missed his touch.)

“It’s okay. Let’s chose my damned ring, shall we?” you proposed, mustering a nonchalant tone.

Dodging uneasiness with humor always worked out, it seemed.

You felt odd and out of place standing next to him and staring at all those glimmering jewels. In the corner of the eye you saw the lady who worked there glancing at you from time to time and that was when you remembered you were supposed to act like a soon-to-be fiancée.

“They’re all pretty.” you said to Jungkook.

“Which one you like the most then?”

You didn’t have to think long about the answer. The ring with an emerald stone caught your eye from the beginning. It was different than the others, definitely not a standard choice for engagement but something about its peculiarity made you want it to have it shinning on your finger one day.

Except, you weren’t here for yourself. Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend. You were helping him chose a ring for Soojin. And you knew exactly what she would like.

So you pointed at the number thirty-two. A sparkling, white-gold ring with an oval-shaped diamond.

Jungkook let out a hum. “It’s really pretty, yeah. Excuse me,” he called. “My girlfriend would like to try out this one.”

You ignored the phantom pain you felt as you put the ring on. You flexed your fingers and just for a moment, you pretended it wasn’t a farce your best friend came up with. The diamond shone brightly just like the glimmers of happiness in Jungkook's eyes. He didn’t have to worry about Soojin's answer. He knew it would be thousand times yes.

You were good at pretending. After all, you had been practicing the art of it almost your entire life.

So you drove with Jungkook to your apartment and listened to him babbling about his newest project at work. You made snacks, sat in front of your TV and spent the next couple of hours watching Attack On Titan. You cursed him for spoiling you a few bits of the show and Jungkook, like the petty Virgo he was, reminded you how you accidentally revealed him Little Women's ending because you had read the book years before.

As you laughed and bickered with him, you still remembered about the crimson box tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you didn’t allow yourself to break. Not yet.

It was only when Jungkook fell asleep around 1am that you stepped into the shower and let the tears flow.

And a week later, when the dreaded became real–

Jungkook: she said yes!!!

A white lie was told to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

You: I’m so happy for you, Jungkook!

After all, the best you could do was give up your happiness for the sake of his own.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts smut #my writing #an ode to a broken heart

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it.

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world.

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years.

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier.

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps.

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong.

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence.

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open.

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance.

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought.

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet.

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.”

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother.

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up.

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard.

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away.

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food.

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words.

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake.

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind.

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories.

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen.

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness.

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#this is kinda shit but i've been toying with this idea for a while #it's done now and my brain can move on #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT.

— WHEN THE DRINKING'S DONE ; PART 6 / ?

( gif from this gifset by @jascontodd )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: Sunday night dinner with your mother doesn’t go as planned when Bruce shows up unexpectedly at your door and you both know how your mother really loves him alot.

A/N: Slow and kinda long-winded chapter again haha. I used to be the kind of person who couldn’t write long stuff. Now look at me. Who is she??? Enjoy this one yall. Probably one or two more chapters to go, depends on how much I can write <3

WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol. I write about what I feel and they are very real. So if you find these things triggering, please do not read this.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Sunday night. You’re in an apron, flushed from the heat of the stove. You’ve just poured a glass of wine for your mother, but she doesn’t drink it—too busy walking around your apartment, clearing your stuff as she criticizes your lack of cleanliness and organization. Grading papers during exam season keeps you busy. Needless to say, you don’t have the time to clean your goddamn house.

You still love her anyway.

You’re at the sink, purple-stained fingers from peeling the tunic of the red onions are under running water when there is a knock on your door. It’s deafening, rapid, and agitating. You’ve just spilled boiling water onto your hand and you really don’t need another problem to come charging at your front door. Literally.

Moving out of the kitchen with haste, you call out over your shoulder to your mother to quit rearranging with bits and bobs of stationary and papers because yes, it’s messy but you know exactly where everything is. The knocking doesn’t cease, and your annoyance aggravates further. You’re gonna have to punch someone or something if it doesn’t stop.

You aggressively pushed the barrel of the bolt lock, swinging the door open as the strands of your wild hair flew backward in the sudden blow of air.

All forms of anger and agitation disappear as soon as your gaze meets the flushed face of none other than Bruce fucking Wayne, dressed in a grey dress vest, tie hanging loosely a pristine white shirt, and an ebony tweed overcoat. This feels like deja vu. Your expression goes through a series of mixed emotions, mostly confusion, when it morphed into a guise of embarrassment, cheeks even redder. “Don’t tell me I texted you by accident again?” He blinks, seemingly as bewildered as you are. “What? No, no. No. I—” His sentence is cut short when he takes a moment to catch his breath. Your brows are frowning even deeper than before. “Did you run here or something? And what are you doing here anyway?”

Bruce shifts in his stance, a palm against the door frame, shaking his head. He feels small under your interrogative stare. “No, I came here to see you…” he trails off, eyes shamelessly skirting across your figure. He just now notices that it may be a bad time for him to turn up, and you’re hit with the realization you’re in a ratty apron, very red and very sweaty. You’re right. It is deja vu because why are you always a mess when Bruce shows up at your front door unannounced? You abruptly pull the apron over your head, hurling it behind the door, hands palming the frizz of your hair into a somewhat presentable look.

“Look, I need to talk you—”

“Honey! Who’s at the door?” He’s being cut off mid-sentence again. This time, by your mother’s voice from the living room. Your eyes are wide again—so are his.

Your mother’s fondness for Bruce is an understatement. Obsession is a better word. She had only met him once, and that was six years ago but the conceptualization of being somewhat related to an exceptionally handsome and successful man had gotten to her head all those years ago. Hell, she loves him more than she loves you. Your mother—A woman who wishes to call your best friend ‘son’ with a whole lot of love to give. If she discovers Bruce is here, at your doorstep, she will never let go. Never. And you both know it. There’s a silent understanding that travels between the two of you and the look you’re giving him tells only one thing—Run before it’s too late.

“Bruce Wayne as I live and breathe...”

Well, too late.

A small-statured lady stands on the farther side of the hallway, face lit up with sheer joy and excitement as if she had just won a lottery. She approaches him with arms open wide and soon, her hands are laid on his cheeks, examining the man’s face carefully. Bruce just stands there, stiff as a rock, unsure of how to regain his composure from all the adrenaline of wanting to see you now that he was in such close proximity to the woman who raised you. When it’s you, he tends to struggle with timing and it’s partly the reason he has never managed to act on his feelings for you. For the longest time, he has wanted to be more than friends or whatever the hell this was. He had been hesitant but now, he’s very sure.

Sometimes it feels like it's the right person but the wrong time. He doesn’t want it to be that way. He wants to make things right with you.

And there he was, being squished under the grasp of the lady that loves him very much.

He catches your gaze; you flash him a sympathetic smile as you mouth the word “sorry.” Bruce arches his brows, indicating he has no idea what to do or how to get out of this situation.

“You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you!” the older woman exclaims, a hand now firmly on his shoulder, the other brushing away his long strands of hair from his face with affection. Bruce would never admit it; he likes the attention your mother gives to him—the touch of a mother. Something he longs for.

“Why don’t you come in and join us for dinner? There's more than enough food.”

Crap, you should have known that question was bound to be mentioned. You’re not convinced that you will be able to suppress your emotional heartburn and the idea of Bruce tasting the dishes you’re cooking, it’s making your palms sweat. But what the hell. You shouldn’t be this nervous around him, you’ve known each other for years. He has seen you at your worst and vice versa.

Still, you’ll like to avoid the predicament of a dinner table set for you, your mother, and the man you secretly love. You’re quick with an answer. “Oh, I’m sure he has other important things to do. Bruce is very busy—”

“I’ll be happy to. I have no plans for tonight after all.”

You stare at Bruce, eyes glimmering with shock and betrayal—he is supposed to be on your side. He simply sends you a swift wink, and you feel the growing and most likely apparent deep red of your already flushed cheeks. You glance away to face your mother, eye crinkling in hopes of concealing the effect he has on you. Well, at least your mother looks fucking overjoyed. Maybe the night won’t end in disappointment.

The scent of chicken and spice whiffs through the air from the dishes of chicken and chorizo paella you’ve managed to whip up in a quick thirty minutes—a recipe you came by in an article titled “Fancy dishes for lazy cooks.” Well, it’s certainly working; everyone looks pleasantly surprised when you emerge from the kitchen with a cast-iron skillet within your kitchen gloved-grasp.

Happiness is the sound of the clinking of cutlery against nearly empty smeared plates, the splash of wine cascading from the bottle you held into the glasses of your guests, and the occasional laughter that erupts from your mother as Bruce tries to make a joke through mouthfuls of paella. A symphony of contentment and comfort, composed and orchestrated by the two most significant individuals in your life. Beauty is made anywhere beautiful people are; in this space, cramped up at the beech wooden table made for one by the casement window that overlooks the apartment across yours.

This side of Bruce—where boyish smiles were manifested and hearty laughs arising from the belly—is the side you miss the most. Years ago, things felt simpler though your past self would deny that notion as human life continues to become more intricate as we grow older and our eyes see more. Innocence to maturity. Happiness to grief. But, the complexity of this warfare between the brain and the heart seems to reside in perpetual darkness, no light at the end of the tunnel. For a long time, you thought deciding to be alone could eventually bring peace to the madness but maybe, you’ve been with the wrong people this whole time. It’s your reflection against the window pane that shows the evident crinkle in your eyes and the constant upward in the curve of your lips even though it contrasts the gloomy hues of blue from the sky at twilight—you’re happy.

It’s the way your mother leans over and wipes off the bits of rice from the corner of your mouth and the exchange of awkward smiles when Bruce accidentally brushes his hand against yours when reaching for the fork. This is what you want. And maybe, just maybe, you deserve to not be alone.

“So, have you decided on who you’re taking to the wedding?”

Your mother’s voice hauls you back from your daydream. She gives you a knowing look, discretely glancing towards Bruce on the other end of the table. She knows you don’t have a date, and you know she wants you to bring Bruce. You feel your anxiety creep back in.

This is weirdly the second time you’re in this situation.

“I don’t know yet...” In times like this, you wonder if your mother wields some sort of magical ability of truth or something because no matter how much you try, you can never lie to her. And now, you wish the ground would collapse and swallow you up. You know she means well, but oh my God, Bruce is staring at you and you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore.

“Wedding?” Bruce chirps with a questioning brow as he glances between you and your mother. Now, you’re forced to explain for the sake of context. “My cousin’s getting married next week and mom here wants me to bring a date.” Your mother’s expression indicates that you’re lying through your teeth. Yet in reality, it’s not technically a lie if you’re leaving parts of reason out of the explanation because it’s true she wants you to bring a date but you don’t mention how you don’t want to go alone because weddings make you sad.

It sounds pathetic.

Bruce just nods, taking a sip of his wine. The fact he’s not saying anything is making you anxious. You thought you didn’t want him to be your date but now, maybe you do. These feelings are messing up your brain. It’s just mush now, and there’s no cure.

These are the times you want to say “Fuck you, Bruce” but in the nicest way possible.

“Why don’t you bring Bruce?”

She was direct as they come but is mostly tired of your lack of initiative and doubt. I mean, it’s not like you’re asking him to marry you, right? And honestly, you’re kind of relieved you didn’t have to be one to do it but you can’t keep depending on her to do all the heavy lifting for you. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re a goddamn grown adult.

Nevertheless, you peer at his reaction to this from the corner of your eye, fully expecting some sort of a resting jaded expression or eyes wide in horror but he’s just looking at you...with that look—highly bewildered and almost seems to be entertained by your embarrassment. Despite the purse of his lips, you manage to catch sight of the slight impish tuck of his lips.

He thinks it's the wine, but he isn’t exactly sure.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Are you sure about this?” you cross your arms, as you watch Bruce shrug on his coat from the rack. The two of you are squeezed in the entryway of your apartment, huddling in hushed conversation. “About what?” he asks absentmindedly when in reality, he knows exactly what you’re referring to. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s an excuse to be around you longer. You purse your lips, shifting in your stance, eyes flickering away from his gaze. “About coming to the wedding,” you say it slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid to and you’re not sure why. He nods with the furrow of his brows, tugging his hands into the pockets of his ebony tweed coat. “I’m sure...Unless you don’t want me to come—”

“No, no. God, of course, I want you to come,” you stop, realizing how your sudden outburst of excitement must have made you seem desperate. You clear your throat, feet shifting once more. “I don’t want to pull you off work just because I don’t want to be alone.”

He raises his brows, nearing a little closer to you. “So that’s the real reason?” A hint of a smile—it’s a teasing one. You simply throw a fist to his arm yet unable to stifle your growing smile. “Don’t be a jerk.”

Bruce winces followed by a laugh that comes out more light a puff of air as he bares his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

Maybe, it’s the walls of this hallway, covered with hung framed photographs of family, childhood, and friends because it’s starting to feel warm. You think it’s the way his eyes light up when you laugh, radiating a sort of comforting warmth on this cold night. It feels like home. Bruce feels like home. You notice the prominent stain of your mother’s lipstick on his left cheek. You bring one hand to rest on the curve of his cheekbone, thumb trying to efface the smeared stain away.

You’re not sure if it's the smell of his deodorant or the sudden sense of his breath on your skin that made you comprehend the closing gap between your face and his. In an instant, your hand jerks away and returns to your side, clenching to a fist. Bruce clears his throat, bringing a hand up to scratch the growing stubble at his jaw. The touch of your fingers lingers like a burn.

Recognizing the tension in the air, you decide to avert your thoughts back to the conversation you were having in the first place. “You know, you don’t have to come. Really. You’ve done a lot for me, and you know that.”

“Yes...but I’ll always have your back no matter what.”

He smiles at you. The kind that reaches his eyes. He looks younger like this.

“And I’ll always have yours, Bruce.”

You’re an idiot. He’s an idiot. You’re just two idiots, standing in the hallway with hearts that feel like they’re about to explode. Despite the lingering tension in the air that’s still present, you bring him into an embrace. It feels natural, your arms around his shoulder and his on the small of your back. “Thanks for everything. Especially for making my mom really happy.” you punctuate your sentence with a gentle caress to the back where his shoulders meet. You hear the muffled sound of his laugh, feeling the rumble of his chest against yours as you try not to squirm at the brush of his unshaven chin against the curve of your neck. “No problem,” he mumbles before pulling away.

“And you need a shave.” You’re pointing to his chin and he finds himself scratching it again. He merely hums in response.

Swinging the door open while you wave him goodbye feels like a part of you is leaving. You’re not sure why you’re feeling this newly found emptiness in you when you know you’ll see him next week. You decide to blame the wine. It’s easier that way.

He’s walking away, already out of view when you decide you should really say something at least.

“Bruce,” you suddenly call out; he turns on his heels and backtracks a little too eager to face you at the doorway. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” He frowns in response, head tilting in a questioning manner. “When you came here, you said you needed to talk.”

He recalls the real reason he was here in the first place. Rushing to your door like you’re about to disappear any minute. Yet, you’re here, still at the doorway, three hours later. Fuck, he was about to confess.

Bad timing. Again.

Right person, wrong time.

No. He’ll make it right. Just, not now.

“I was...going to thank you for the bagels; Asiago. Nice choice.” Is what he says instead of reciting the words that had been running through his head in rehearsal since the drive to your apartment. He ignores the way your shoulders sag, perhaps in relief—he doesn’t want to know. He ignores the burning in his chest when you nod, the corners of your mouth tugging into a faint smile as you raise a palm in a somewhat solemn wave of farewell. He ignores the sting in his eyes when the door closes on him, symbolizing finality when he really doesn’t want it to end. Left alone in the dismal light of the hallway; it acts as a poignant reminder of his bereavement and how much of his consolation depends on your presence.

When the drinking's done, does it make it any easier for him to open himself up to you?

Bruce allows himself to cry once he pulls the car door to a close because he feels overwhelmed by the conflicting thoughts that continue to reside in his mind. The regrets, the what-ifs, and the should-haves. He forgets himself sometimes because he gets so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

You keep him grounded. You remind him who Bruce Wayne truly is.

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the rearview mirror.

You’re right. He does need a shave.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #justice league

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Update: Revelations

Chapter 3: Midnight Conversations

Finally an update for Revelations, where Hawke finally finds out about Poppy's experiences with Lord Mazeen and gets big ragey mad about it (because that's what we live for).

Read on AO3

Hawke stalked down the hall mentally checking off the list of things he needed to address with the fire-haired woman he had just caught on the Rise. Gods, where to even begin?

How did you learn to fight?

Why did you learn to fight?

Why were you on the Rise?

Are you absolutely mad?

Do you have no sense of self-preservation?

Do you own no proper clothing so you aren’t fighting Craven in a nightdress and satin slippers?

He’d taken a few minutes to rinse the blood from his armor and his face and out of his hair. The guard had begun his trek back to the Maiden’s chambers as soon as he’d stowed his broadsword.

Yes, they still had so much to discuss. Those questions – and others – swam through his mind as he reached the heavy oak doors. Using a surprising amount of restraint he raised a fist and rapped on the wood. After a few moments the door cracked open, revealing the lady’s maid – Tawny.

“The Maiden is sleeping –“

“Doubtful,” Hawke interrupted, amused at the untruth. He lowered his chin and gave the lady a pointed look, but she didn’t open the door wider. So he pushed through the opening, mouth quirking as Tawny stood agape. He kicked the door closed and fixed his gaze on Poppy, who’s jaw had also dropped in apparent astonishment. As if she should be surprised to see him there. “It’s time for that talk, Princess.”

The guard cast a glance toward Tawny, jerking his chin in the direction of the door. “Your services are no longer needed this evening.”

“You don’t have the authority to dismiss her!”

Hawke turned is gaze back to the Maiden whose pale cheeks and emerald eyes were alight with ire. He raised a brow. “I don’t? As your personal Royal Guard, I have the authority to remove any threats.” He barely suppressed a dark chuckle at the notion that Poppy’s lady’s maid could pose any real danger.

“Threats?” Tawny’s lips curled down. “I’m not a threat.”

“You pose the threat of making up excuses or lying on behalf of Penellaphe. Just like you said she was asleep when I know for a fact that she was on the Rise,” Hawke retorted. The maid inhaled sharply and whipped toward the Maiden.

“I have a feeling I’m missing an important piece of information,” she accused. An amused grin lifted the corner of Hawke’s lips.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you. And it wasn’t that important,” Poppy argued. Not that important? Oh how she wounded him.

He snorted. “I’m sure it was one of the most important things to have happened to you in a long time.”

“You have an over-inflated sense of involvement in my life if you really think that.”

“I think I have a good grasp on just how much of a role I play in your life,” Hawke deadpanned. Indeed. Her first kiss, the first time she’d even been touched by a man. But it was more than just the carnal urges that had brought them together that first night. He was, as far as he could tell, the only person who was willing to address what the Duke had been doing to her. He felt… drawn to her, felt a nearly overwhelming need to protect her inside this structure of stone and cruelty – one place where she was not able to protect herself.

“Doubtful.” She turned the word back on him and he could barely keep from rolling his eyes.

“I do wonder if you actually believe half the lies you tell.”

“I am not lying, thank you very much.” Gods, she was so stubborn.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Princess,” he breathed with a grin.

Poppy scowled. “Don’t call me that!” she exclaimed with a stomp of her foot. The guard lifted a brow at her, pouting his lips.

“Did that make you feel good?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Because the only other option is to kick you.”

There it was again, the need to fight roiling beneath her skin. That did something to him, sparking a flame deep in his belly. He chuckled. “So violent.”

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“I’m your personal guard. I can be wherever I feel I am needed to keep you safe,” he stated. Hawke wished she weren’t so argumentative. He just wanted to talk to her, to understand her – dig deeper into her strength.

“And what do you think you need to protect me from in here?” She flung her arms out, gesturing to the empty room. “An unruly bedpost I might stub my toe on? Oh, wait, are you worried I might faint? I know how good you are at handling such emergencies.”

The Atlantian smirked. He knew she had been irritated that afternoon in the atrium, as the ladies in wait resorted to ever escalating heights of ridiculousness to garner his attention. He was like a shiny new toy, a handsome new Rise guard from the capital. If only Poppy knew that his attention was ever only centered on her.

“You do look a little pale. My ability to catch frail, delicate females may come in handy,” he countered, earning an enraged inhale. “But as far as I can determine, other than a random abduction attempt, you, Princess, are the greatest threat to yourself.”

“Well…” her lady’s maid drew out contemplatively. At least one of them was reasonable. “He kind of has a point there.”

“You’re absolutely no help,” Poppy spat.

Hawke softened his voice slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on her gaze that was green like Atlantian spring. “Penellaphe and I do need to speak. I can assure you that she is safe with me, and I’m sure that whatever I’m about to discuss with her, she’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Yes, she will, but that’s not nearly as entertaining as witnessing it.”

She was quite the spitfire, as well. The Maiden sighed.

“It’s okay, Tawny. I’ll see you in the morning.” She almost groaned.

Tawny was incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I have a feeling that if you don’t leave he’s just going to stand there and drain precious air from my room –“

“While looking exceptionally handsome,” Hawke interjected. “You forgot to add that.” Poppy rolled her eyes, but her lady’s maid giggled.

“And I would like to get some rest before the sun rises,” she finished. Likely story that was, coming from the woman who had just left her bed to fight monsters on the city walls.

Tawny heaved an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” she muttered. Hawke glanced at her as she moved to leave. “Princess.”

His lips curled up in a devilish smile. Spitfire, indeed.

“Oh, my gods,” Poppy groaned. He waited for the lady’s maid to exit through the adjoining door before showing his delight.

“I like her.” Hawke grinned.

“Good to know. What is it you wish to talk about that couldn’t wait until the morning?”

As he looked back to her his breath caught. He’d always known that she was a lovely specimen, but seeing her before him in that thin nightgown and red hair unconfined and falling wildly above her shoulders. She truly was magnificent.

“You have beautiful hair,” he murmured. She just blinked, and he could see that she hadn’t been expecting that. He was glad to have been able to take her by surprise.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Not exactly,” he shrugged and then allowed his eyes to very obviously roam over her barely-clothed body. The skin of her shoulders looked so soft, the dip at the base of her neck between her collar bones so inviting. The swells of her ample breasts were barely hidden, and the soft fabric clung loosely over her stomach and hips. And of course those pretty thighs and sculpted calves. She looked absolutely delectable, and the way the flush exploded over her flesh as she felt his gaze feel every curve caused his pants to tighten. She moved to grab the robe that was strewn across the bed and the corner of Hawke’s mouth curved devilishly.

And then she stopped, a challenge settling into those emerald pools as they met his. Ah, yes, she knew he’d already seen most of what her sleeping gown revealed, and a tremor of admiration rippled through him when she straightened, choosing not to hide herself from him.

“Was that all you were wearing under the cloak?” Hawke asked, balking at how utterly insane she must be. Truly.

“That’s none of your concern,” Poppy answered hotly.

“Feels like it should be.” His voice was raspier than he’d intended, throat tight from the vision before him. “I meant what I said that day. The Duke and the Lord told you that it was a lie, but it wasn’t. You are absolutely beautiful.” He noticed the widening of her eyes, the pace of her breathing increase. Again he had caught her off guard, although rage boiled through him with the knowledge that no one had allowed her to even consider the truth of her devastating beauty.

Poppy’s body seemed to sag all at once as she sighed and turned away from him, padding to one of the chairs by the fire. Hawke followed her with a burning gaze, unable to avoid how the slit in her nightgown revealed nearly her entire leg when she walked. Gods, she was going to be the end of him. He fucking knew it.

He followed and stood next to the chair across from her, watching as the reflection of the fire made her eyes appear to glow silver, how her body seemed to now bow into itself. She had fought so well – had knocked him on his ass – but it had only been two days since her punishment at the hands of Duke Teerman.

And Lord Mazeen.

The guard was determined that he would get answers this night. He would find out what the lord was doing in that room, what his interest in Poppy truly was. The oily, heavy feeling deep in his stomach told him that he wouldn’t like the answer.

But he knew he couldn’t just come out and ask, not considering how she’d try to deny the obvious torment even when he could see it with his own eyes and scent it on her skin. He would have to weave his way expertly through their conversation, through her defenses and over her walls.

“I’ve been thinking. About what you said.” Poppy turned her chin to him, the emeralds in her gaze finding him as he remained standing. Hawke was stunned that she had initiated the conversation, and even more taken aback by her quiet, steady tone. It was so unlike her.

“What I said?” he urged before gesturing to the chair. “May I?”

“You told me to think about the things they did. The Duke, the Ascended. To trust my instincts. And I,” she paused, turning her stare back into the fire, “I think Lord Mazeen had something to do with Malessa’s death.”

Hawke had settled into the chair, forearms resting on his knees, when his eyes snapped up. “Why do you think that?”

“He had… he had just come into the hall from that direction. Before she was discovered. He smelled of jasmine, and there was a petal left there. And he seemed… enthralled. He wouldn’t stop staring at her, with her skirts hiked up and her corset pulled down.” Poppy continued boring her eyes into the flames, as if the fire might give her the answers. He observed her with narrowing eyes, absorbing every word, every implication. “It felt so wrong, the way he stared at her. Nobody did anything to shield her, to give her even the smallest shred of dignity in death. But Lord Mazeen… he couldn’t seem to look away.” She looked down at her hands, then, alabaster fingers fidgeting in her lap. Hawke looked down at them, too, carefully considering her words. And only one thing continued to echo in his mind as the silence around them seemed to swallow him whole. One thought that needed only a spark to ignite a killing rage, one question that needed to be answered even though he knew it might boil him alive to hear it.

“How do you know what he smelled like?” Ice laced the words, a quiet promise of torment and death.

Hawke’s voice was usually warm, mirthful. He enjoyed their arguing, liked getting a rise out of her. But this question… the answer that could confirm that the lord – with his reputation for lust and degradation – was close enough to Poppy so she could smell him…

His shrewd eyes noticed everything, like the predator he had trained himself to be since his return to Solis. Her fingers stilled, jaw clenched, shoulders tensed. The redhead was immediately on guard, and Hawke understood with disturbing clarity that the lord would be a difficult subject.

“Poppy.” He whispered a warning. He could see the noiseless tells as she was trying to work through an explanation to feed him, to placate him. With a snarl he rose and strode the short distance between them. Grasping her chin between his thumb and finger he jerked her head to face him. “Don’t you dare lie to me.” Those green eyes flashed in promising defiance, then guttered to a dull, fathomless dark. And for a moment the Maiden before him was just a girl – lost, confused, alone, abused.

Gods, that look broke his heart.

Hawke released her chin and lowered to his knees in front of her, their eyes still locked on the other’s. He hesitated for a breath before reaching to cover her hands with his.

“I swore to protect you, Poppy. But if I am to do that, I need you to be completely honest with me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what or who is causing you harm.”

She laughed bitterly, turning her gaze back to the flames. “Nobody can protect me from the Duke. From Lord Mazeen. The power they wield, the way they manipulate. I told you before – there’s nothing to be done.”

“Just because nobody has protected you doesn’t mean that I cannot,” he urged, nearly growling with her unwitting admission that the lord was yet another danger. His heart pounded in his chest as he murmured desperately, “What has he done to you?”

He could feel her racing heartbeat in her fingers, could hear it echoing through the hanging silence. His grip tightened, and Poppy’s spring green eyes slid to him.

“Please, Poppy. Let me help you.”

He was in too deep with her, he knew. But there was something about her, something he couldn’t understand. Sure, he could write it off as a decent man seeing a woman who needed help, who wouldn’t stand by while someone innocent was mistreated.

But it was more than that.

And after he’d seen her cutting down Craven on the Rise? A goddess of violence and beauty. He was irrevocably tangled in her web.

“The night Malessa died, Lord Mazeen stopped me in the hall coming from that direction. I had been on my way to the garden with Rylan, but he said he wanted to speak to me. Privately.” Poppy walked through her story with firm determination, nary a tremble detectable in her voice. “He pulled me into an alcove to the side of the hall and began his games. He knew that I knew that I didn’t have a choice. As the Maiden I am not supposed to linger or speak with anyone, but it would also be disrespectful not to participate in the conversation. One word to the Duke for either offense and…”

“And you get called to his study to satisfy his sadistic whims,” he finished the sentence after she trailed off, earning a terse nod. He hated it, hated them. He would kill the Duke for what he’d done, as slowly and painfully as he could.

“Lord Mazeen was taking the opportunity to… remind me… that his position was such that he was above reproach. He… he lifted his hand to my face, touched my cheek, my lips, down over my jaw and neck and… lower.”

Hawke breathed a curse, rage coiling tightly into a spring poised to snap. He squeezed her hands tighter but then let go, fearful that his grip may become painful as his ire grew. Instead he gripped the cushion on either side of her knees, trying to reign in his immortal strength as he kept his gaze fixed on eyes of shimmering green. Her throat bobbed.

“I tried to excuse myself and leave, but he pulled me back to him. His hand was still at my chest, my back against his front. I could… feel him.” Poppy took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “I always knew he delighted in making me uncomfortable, but I don’t think I realized…”

She shook her head, finally breaking the link between their eyes as her lashes lowered. “That’s how I know he smelled of jasmine. I was able to run away when someone screamed – when they found Malessa.”

Hawke looked down at his hands, knuckles white has his fingers dug into the plush forest green upholstery. Would Lord Mazeen have dared to go further? It wasn’t much of a leap from his slimy touch to further violation. His vision blurred, his chest a chasm of disturbing realizations and maddening what-ifs. He only knew that he was still breathing because he could hear it – labored, sawing breaths. He grounded himself by focusing on her face – the raised pink skin of the Craven scars, the full luscious lips, the smooth porcelain of her flesh that he reached out to touch. Fingers traced over her cheek and jaw before pushing gently under her chin, her eyes raising to look back at him.

“And what about when you are summoned by the Duke. Is he always there, too?”

Poppy’s breathing stuttered, eyes widening as they lined with silver.

“I told you I heard everything, Poppy,” he murmured as his thumb drifted over her skin. “What was he doing there?”

When a tear escaped over her lashes, it was like the world shifted under his feet. When had everything become so fucked up and twisted? He’d always known the Ascended were monsters, but knowing that those two beasts took such great pains to back the Maiden into a corner, with no possible way to escape their sadistic attention… It made his stomach roil.

Slowly, so she would not be caught off guard, he lifted his fingers from her chin to wipe away the droplet that slowly fell over her cheek. Taking a calming breath, he encouraged, “You can trust me, Princess. I know it’s hard to do, and I know that I have only been at your side for a few days. But it is abhorrent that nobody in this Godsdamned castle has tried to shield you from these predators and I will not let it stand a moment longer. I swear it to you, Penellaphe. With my sword and my life, I vow to protect you. Not the Maiden,” he spat, “not the Duke or the Duchess or any of the lords and ladies, not this Godsforsaken castle or anyone else in it. I said your name. I promised you.”

She stared at him, expression calculating, weighing his declaration. Hawke pulled his hand away, resting it against her knee. He braced himself as she swallowed, preparing to speak.

“Lord Mazeen began taking a special interest in Duke Teerman’s lessons a few years ago. He likes to watch.” The redhead paused, gaze returning to her hands. She had started wringing her fingers again when she continued, “The Duke requires me to disrobe to my waist. He prefers to strike bare skin.”

Holy fucking gods. Hawke forced himself to breathe, keeping his eyes trained on her reddening cheeks and dreading that she had more still to tell.

“I lean against his desk to support myself, and in my state of undress I will hold myself up with one arm and try to cover myself with the other as much as I can,” her voice cracked. He could feel the heat wafting from her skin, face flushing with shame. He never could have prepared himself for how complete her degradation had been at the Duke’s cruel hands. “The last time,” she whispered, “it wasn’t enough for Lord Mazeen to just sit there. He… stood in front of me. Leered at me. He pulled my arm away from my chest and held my hands to the desk… so he could look his fill as the Duke took the cane to my back.”

Hawke was frozen, staring at Poppy’s bowed head. He could smell the salt of her tears as they silently coursed down her cheeks, glowing gold in the firelight. Gritting his teeth, nostrils flaring, a snarl rose from his throat. His head was empty of all thoughts, save for the need to massacre the monster. But the shimmering of her crimson locks grounded him, and he lowered his forehead to her knees as he struggled to calm his racing, raging heart. Air hissed from between his teeth, the sound of his ragged breaths roaring in his ears, and he could feel his fingernails clawing through the fabric that covered her cushioned seat.

“Poppy,” he groaned desperately. “I need you to talk. About anything else. I need – I need to find a way to calm down.” The guard’s shoulders tremored with coiled rage.

“Hawke?” Her soft voice pierced through the night. “I don’t understand.”

“The only thing keeping me from finding that worthless pile of refuse and tearing him limb from limb is knowing that I can’t protect you if I’m swinging from the gallows,” he seethed through clenched teeth. “Please, Poppy. I need–“

Any remaining air whooshed out of his lungs when he felt timid, trembling fingers combing through the ends of his hair. Immediately his muscles relaxed, shoulders bowing in. When he lifted his gaze she snatched her hand back, cradling it to her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. The corner of his mouth tipped up.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Poppy’s breath caught, but her eyes stuck on his. Green, like an Atlantian spring. They were beautiful and clear and shining. Hawke felt like he couldn’t look away, and he wondered for a moment – maybe even hoped – if she felt just as entranced as he did.

“What is?”

“How it feels like I’ve known you longer. You feel that, too,” he answered. That gentle tickle of her fingers in his hair, a caress of care and a promise of… whatever this was. It was as if they had always shared such familiarity. But then her hands dropped into her lap, eyes following. “Why were you on the Rise?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

Hawke’s grin grew. “Your motivation wasn’t. At least, tell me that. Tell me what drove you to go up there to fight them.” She paused, casting her stare into the fire as she contemplated.

“The scar on my face. Do you know how I got it?” she asked.

Of course he did. It had been one of the many, many things Vikter had seen fit for him to know. “Your family was attacked by some Craven when you were a child.”

“Vikter filled you in?” Poppy smiled slightly, but it didn’t crawl into her eyes. “It’s not the only scar.”

Hawke didn’t respond to that, but he mentally scowled. More scars meant even less perfection, more opportunities for the Duke and the rest of the Ascended to remind her that she was somehow less. It grated at him.

The Maiden told the story of her family. How the town only had a short wall to protect them, but that it hadn’t seen Craven in decades. That seemed odd. And then how someone had somehow saved her and her brother.

“I woke up days later, back in the capital. Queen Ileana was by my side. She told me what had happened. That our parents were gone.”

He’d had to carefully school his features at the mention of the Blood Queen. To Poppy she had been a guardian, someone she could trust. To Hawke she had been a nightmare. He hoped to the gods that Poppy would understand one day. Regardless, he understood what it was to lose people that he loved. And for her to have been so young. It was truly tragic.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I truly am. It’s a miracle you survived.”

“The gods protected me. That’s what the Queen told me. That I was Chosen. I came to learn later that it was one of the reasons the Queen had begged my mother and father not to leave the safety of the capital. That… that if the Dark One became aware of the Maiden being unprotected, he’d send the Craven after me. He wanted me dead then, but apparently, he wants me alive now.” She laughed bitterly as Hawke quietly analyzed what she’d said. The implication of the Dark One in her family’s attack stood out to him, as he had never been able to control the Craven, much less send them to kill an innocent red-haired girl.

“What happened to your family is not your fault, and there could be any number of reasons for why they attacked that village,” he urged softly as he reached up to tuck a loose tendril of fire behind her ear. “What else do you remember?”

“No one… no one in that inn knew how to fight. Not my parents, none of the women, or even the men. They all relied on the handful of guards,” she explained. It wasn’t necessarily surprising – yet another way the Ascended were able to keep the mortals under their heel. “If my parents knew how to defend themselves, they could’ve survived. It might’ve been just a small chance, but one nonetheless.”

It made so much sense. So much so that Hawke scolded himself for not understanding sooner. “And you want that chance.”

“I won’t… I refuse to be helpless.”

“No one should be.”

And it struck him, then, the double meaning behind his reply. She had taken the steps to ensure that she could defend herself. She was highly skilled, enough to have knocked him on his ass. And brave to the point of recklessness. And yet, inside that hellish study, she may as well have been any lady in wait – with no skill or training or hope of escaping whatever the Duke planned for her. It was so, so wrong.

“You saw what happened tonight. They reached the top of the Rise. If one makes it over, more will follow. No Rise is impenetrable and even if it were, mortals come back from outside the Rise cursed. It happens more than people realize,” Poppy rambled. The guard tamed his expression, careful not to react to yet another unintended confession. He had heard rumors that the child of the gods would assist in providing a dignified passing to those who had been bitten. A day or two ago he never would have believed that it was the Maiden, that the chosen one would commit treason to ease the suffering of those cursed. But now… he truly wasn’t surprised. “At any moment, that curse could spread in this city. If I’m going down-“

“You’ll go down fighting,” he finished for her. When she nodded he mirrored it. “Like I said, you’re very brave.”

“I don’t think it’s bravery,” she muttered. “I think it’s… fear.”

“Fear and bravery are often one and the same. It either makes you a warrior or a coward. The only difference is the person it resides inside.” And he knew which one she was, without question. Hawke leaned back, settling himself to sit before her on the ornate rug. It took her longer than usual to respond.

“You sound so many years older than what you appear,” she answered quietly. Gods, if only she knew.

“Only half the time. You saved lives tonight, Princess.” He leaned his forearms upon his knees and peered up at her.

“But many died.”

“Too many,” he agreed. “The Craven are a never-ending plague.” Poppy sighed.

“As long as an Atlantian lives, there will be Craven.” It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. He would have to be as patient as he could for her to see the truth. But that didn’t mean he had to listen to the slander.

“That is what they say,” he answered dryly, turning golden eyes to the fireplace. “You said that more come back from outside the Rise cursed than people realize. How do you know that?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” she offered, voice slightly higher than normal. He could hardly suppress a grin. She really was a terrible liar.

“It’s not spoken about a lot, and when it is, it’s only whispered.” Hawke’s eyes drifted back to find blazing, defiant green.

“You’re going to need to be more detailed.”

He lifted a brow. He already had her backed into a corner, but if she insisted… “I’ve heard that the child of the gods has helped those who are cursed. That she has aided them, given them death with dignity.” The guard studied the Maiden, mussed hair waterfalling over her shoulders and burning against her ivory skin. Her body was rigid with tension, an easy indication that she had been caught. And yet all he could really think about was how her flesh would feel beneath his fingers, against his lips.

“Who has said such things?”

Hawke shrugged. “A few of the guards. I didn’t believe them at first, to be honest.” And that was the gods-honest truth.

“Well, you should’ve stuck with your initial reaction They’re mistaken if they think I would commit outright treason against the Crown,” Poppy huffed, earning a snort from her guard. She lifted a defiant eyebrow in question.

“You’re a terrible liar, Princess.” Indeed, it was any wonder she was ever able to placate the Duke and Duchess. He continued before she could argue, “And I understand why you would. Those men speak of you with such awe that before I even met you, I half expected you to be a child of the gods. They would never report you.” He wondered for a moment if there truly was more to her, somehow. That she could be beautiful and courageous and strong and also… more.

“That may be the case,” she retorted, “but you heard them talking about it. Others could hear them, as well.”

“Perhaps I should be clearer in what I said about hearing rumors. They were actually speaking to me,” Hawke explained, fixing her with a pointed golden stare. “Since I too have helped those who are cursed die with dignity. I did so in the capital and do so here, as well.” Her plump lips parted in surprise, and he desired so badly to touch them with his own.

“Those who come back cursed have already given all for the kingdom. Being treated as anything other than the heroes they are, and being dragged in front of the public to be murdered is the last thing they or their families should have to go through.” Hawke lifted himself from his seat on the floor, brushing invisible lint from his breeches as he basked in the light of the surprise shining in her emerald eyes. Rendered speechless. How unusual. “I’ve kept you up long enough.” With a dip of his chin he started toward the heavy wooden door. He had made it a few paces before her voice called to him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He paused and turned back to her, but she was still facing the fire. All he could see was the fiery mane above the back of her chair.

“Of course.”

“I know that what Duke Teerman and Lord Mazeen do to me is wrong. I know that. And I know that I am trained, and that I could fight back – but I don’t, because it would be catastrophic for Vikter. But…” Her voice trailed off a moment as she seemed to search for words. “I… I could have stopped Lord Mazeen. I could have cut off his most precious, private possession when he tried to touch me. But I didn’t.” Another long, heavy pause. She turned her head so he could see her profile, a silhouette before the flames.

“Does that… what does that say about me?”

Hawke’s shoulders sagged, heart cracking yet again. “The only thing it says, Poppy, is that you are in an impossible situation. That you are locked so tightly in a cage that they have given you no hope for escape. And yet you still stretch your limbs to protest it, in your way, and with great and grave potential consequence. And that is extremely brave.” The guard ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. “And the fact that you bear those consequences – not willingly, but to protect someone you care about – is perhaps even more courageous. You should feel no shame for that.”

With a nod she turned back to the fire. He was hopeful that he had convinced her that it meant nothing beyond the notion that the Ascended were monsters, and that they did nothing but abuse her and use her as a symbol to keep the citizenry in their thrall.

“Get some rest, Princess.” His paces carried him to the door, and as it creaked open under his had he paused again. “And wear better shoes the next time you go out onto the Rise. And thicker clothing. Those slippers are likely to be the death of you, and that dress… the death of me.”

#FBAA #fbaa fanfic #poppycas #poppy balfour #casteel da'neer #hawke flynn #from blood and ash #fbaa fanfiction #ao3 #ao3fic #fanfiction

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actuallysaiyan · 3 years

Note

NSFW prompt 1 Hidan x reader please

After another unsuccessful mission, you return to the Akatsuki hideout very upset and frustrated. You always seem to get paired with Tobi, who doesn’t always help you out when you need him to help you the best. This time, some stupid shinobi got involved, and you were sporting a few good bruises as you returned home. You were so upset by this, you were afraid that you would get reprimanded for not following orders.

Once you’re inside the hideout, you're met with an equally frustrated Hidan. You start to wonder what happened during his mission. You know he doesn’t always get along with Kakuzu that much, but it couldn’t have been this bad. Hidan is a hothead, but he’s good at deflecting people’s insults...or, he’s good at just swearing at them until they stop annoying him.

“Oh, hi y/n.” Hidan says, in a false suave voice.

“What do you want, Hidan?” you ask, annoyance dripping from your voice.

Hidan kind of just laughs as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to whisper something in your ear.

“How about you and I go have some fun to relieve this tension?”

You’re a little shocked at this suggestion, but it does make something inside you light up. Your skin feels a little hot where he’s touching you, and you can’t deny that you find Hidan very attractive. He may have a very filthy and vulgar vocabulary, but that’s always just added to his attractiveness.

You narrow your eyes at him before replying, “What’s the catch?”

Hidan laughs again, “No catch, babe. I can tell you’re frustrated, as am I, and I know a good way to make this all go away.”

“Fine.”

Hidan surprises you once again by scooping you up and bringing you over to his room. You’re not exactly expecting Hidan to be either romantic or to really care about your pleasure, but you know that sex is always nice to relieve frustrations.

Your back hits the mattress once you're inside the room, and Hidan barely takes the time to close and lock the door behind him. You perch yourself up on your elbows, watching Hidan disrobe. Underneath his robe, he’s wearing a tight black shirt along with some cropped pants. He grins at you as he starts to pull off his shirt as well, and you’re definitely not surprised to see that he has a very nice physique.

“Like what you see, babe?” Hidan teases, and you chuckle.

“I’m not going to lie, I definitely do.” You say as you beckon him closer with your index finger.

Hidan saunters over to you, smirking at you. His eyes are glazed with lust and intent as he pins you down to the bed. Your wrists are above your head, and Hidan starts kissing you roughly. You’re taken aback, but you definitely can feel your arousal building.

“You smell good, babe.” Hidan mutters as he starts biting down on your neck. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer to your body.

“I haven’t showered in a little while, Hidan.” You confess, but he doesn’t seem very phased by it.

“Don’t care. You smell good to me,” Hidan says again, and you blush.

He starts to remove your shirt, kissing you all over and leaving bites all over as well. You can feel him bite your breasts as he pulls off your bra, which makes you gasp and squeak in pleasure and pain. It hurts so fucking good, and you have never had a lover who bit quite like Hidan.

“You like it when I bite you, baby?” his voice is a little lower and softer, indicating that he’s trying to be romantic with you.

“Yes!” you squeak as he bites you hard on the neck.

Hidan smirks at your reaction to him biting you. He desperately wants to draw blood, but he also knows that you aren’t immortal like he is so he has to be exceptionally careful if he is going to do this. You’re bucking your hips, trying to grind against him. He’s so tall, and he’s boxing you in with his hands while he continues to bite you and kiss you. You’re dizzy with lust.

“Please, Hidan…” you beg. You’re a little embarrassed at how badly you need this, but you don’t care to stop now. You need it.

Hidan smiles this time, bringing his lips down to yours in a heated kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth, and he’s quick to start pulling down your pants. You’re growing wet as he continues touching you.

Once your pants are off, you can see Hidan eyeing your mostly nude body. All that’s left are your panties, and he’s almost done taking those off too. You’re a little insecure about your body, but Hidan does not see any of those imperfections whatsoever.

“Oh fuck,” Hidan mutters to himself when he slides a finger through your wet folds.

You’re whimpering as he continues to tease you like this, making you thrust into his hand. He’s chuckling every time you make a small squealing noise. He’s clearly enjoying torturing you like this.

“Babe, you have such a wet pussy.” Hidan says matter-of-factly. He leans in to have a taste, licking a stripe from your opening to your clit. You shiver as he starts to lap at your wet cunt.

Without warning, Hidan plunges two of his fingers deep inside you, curling them when he finds the right spot. You’re a moaning mess at this point, and your cunt is dripping all over his hand. It’s been way too long since you’ve gotten laid.

Hidan laughs, and you can feel the vibrations on your clit as he sucks into his lips. You squeal at the pleasure, tugging on his hair. He’s making you feel so good, and you’re already so close to the edge.

“I think we need to balance this out more.” Hidan suggests suddenly, pulling out his fingers. You groan at the loss of contact, but you’re willing to please him too.

With a few seconds of catching your breath, you make your way onto your knees on Hidan’s bed. Hidan stands up to remove the rest of his clothing. When you see how big he is, you get a little worried. You’ve most definitely never had a lover this big. He’s going to stretch you out.

“Come here, babe.” Hidan says, motioning you over towards him. You crawl over, and instantly take his cock in your hands.

You begin pumping him, making him shudder and groan. When you lick the head to tease him, he curses loudly. He’s throwing around vulgarities left and right as you start to take some of him into your mouth. You feel so warm, wet and inviting, and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

His cock is filling your mouth, and you do your best to bob your head up and down to suck him off really well. Hidan is enjoying himself well, tugging on your hair slightly. You look up at him through your lashes, practically gagging and drooling all over his big cock.

“Oh babe, you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” Hidan praises, and you continue to please him.

He pulls away from you eventually, then he places a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s not long before he’s flipping you over on the bed and spreading your legs. Hidan watches you as he teases your pussy with the head of his cock.

“Ready, babe?” he asks, and you nod your head.

Hidan thrusts into you roughly, and you squeak in response. Your walls clamp down around him quickly, and your pussy twitches as he’s quick to get into a pace. He grips your hips, already fucking you roughly and hard. Hidan likes to jackhammer when he fucks, and you are no exception to this.

“Hidan!” you cry out as he continues to smash himself onto your cervix. It hurts, but it feels so damn good at the same time.

Hidan just leans down to bite your bottom lip, this time he draws blood. You’re barely able to think coherent thoughts as Hidan continues to plow you, making you cry out and whimper…

You’re in for a long night.

#writing #naruto #akatsuki #reader requested #anon requested #hidan x you #hidan x reader #hidan x y/n #hidan lemon #hidan smut #akatsuki x you #akatsuki x y/n #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki lemon #akatsuki smut #200 followers event #prompt list event

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Sweet Pea & Fangs//lovable idiots

Request: Hey could you do a poly with fangs, sweet pea, and reader where Fangs was out getting food while reader was asleep on SP. But then she woke up & started trying to get SP riled up so he sent a vid of her giving him a hickey to Fangs but once he actually made it home she was too hungry and told him he can wait. Lmao sorry that was so long I love your writing and I love swangs and you can definitely make this into a better reality than me hehe

hey! before we start warning: sexual themes, so don’t read if you’re not allowed otherwise i will tell your parent and or/guardian! anyway, if you are reading this, i hope you like it!! and have a great day/night!!!

Lazy weekends are the best, especially when they’re spent with your favourite people.

You, Sweet Pea and Fangs have done nothing all weekend. You’ve spent your days cuddling on the sofa watching rubbish tv or reading, and the nights have been spent doing the exact same. You just drag yourselves from the sofa to the bed at around midnight.

However, on Sunday afternoon, Fangs is sent out to find food. Its decided with a quick game of rock, paper, scissors between him and Sweet Pea as your fast asleep, enjoying a nap.

Sweet Pea celebrates quietly, trying his hardest not to wake you while he does a little dance.

Fangs grumbles to himself while he drags himself up and off the sofa. He slips his shoes on, grabs his jacket and presses a soft kiss to yours and Sweet Pea’s forehead.

“Love you!” Sweet Pea calls quietly after him, and even though he’s annoyed, he can’t keep the small smile off his face as a blush creeps up his neck.

“Enough to go instead?” He wonders, hanging half inside the door.

“No.”

“Well fuck off then.” He huffs, swinging the door closed behind him. Sweet Pea lets out a small chuckle, watching him as he walks in front of the house and the two of them send sarcastic smiles and small waves that evolve into just flipping each other off.

Sweet Pea sighs contently, shifting slightly and cuddling you closer. Soft snores slip past your lips making him laugh a little and text Fangs about how you still insist that you don’t snore, before he settles on watching whatever’s on the tv.

Ten minutes pass and he’s resorted to scrolling through Twitter, rolling his eyes when he see’s Fangs tweeting about how mean his boyfriend is for making him go to Pop��s. He replies, saying its usually either himself or you going to get food for him and if he doesn’t shut up, he’s changing the locks while he’s out.

“Where did Fangs go?” You ask and look around the living room confused.

When you fell asleep, you were cuddled into Sweet Pea and Fangs was on the other side of you, using your body as a pillow. But now you’ve woken up cold and missing a boyfriend.

“He went to get food.” He replies, tightening his grip around you and locking his phone. A bright smile lightens up your face as you think about the possibility of food.

“Pop’s?”

“What do you think?” He replies, sending you a look making you giggle.

“How long’s he been gone for?” You sit up and stretch, a yawn escaping your lips and Sweet Pea takes the opportunity to poke his fingers in your mouth. You cough and bat his hand away, giving him a hard glare while he just laughs. “I hate it when you do that.”

“It’s to establish dominance.” He shrugs, sitting back and opening Twitter up again.

“I’m sure there are other ways that you could that, that don’t involve you violating me when I yawn.”

“The only other thing I can think of is peeing and I don’t think any of us want that.”

“Isn’t that for territory? And no, we don’t.”

“Then the yawning violation stays.” He shrugs and you stare at him annoyed. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“I’m pretty sure you do.” You reply, your eyes narrowing as you look back at him.

“Oh, well.” He says, sending you a cheeky smile before going back to his phone.

You lie back, resting your head on his shoulder as he scrolls through Twitter. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, laughing every few seconds and the occasional comment of ‘thats you’ or ‘us.’

You soon get bored, so you look up at Sweet Pea, now completely engrossed in some stupid video and you get an idea. You move, so you’re kneeling on the sofa beside him, and lean down, pressing open mouthed kisses to the exposed parts of his neck and chest.

The video is soon forgotten, completely focussing on you as you continue to move, settling on his lap and tangling your fingers in his hair. His breathing hitches when you start to suck and his eyes flutter shut, soft, breathy moans escaping from his lips.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles, his voice low when he looks at you.

You pull away at the two of you make eye contact, his face flushes and he shifts in his seat, only now suddenly aware of where your sitting.

“I’m busy.” You shrug and run your fingers up and down his chest. Your other hand stays in his hair, and you give it a tug making him moan again. “Is that okay?” You whisper in his ear and he nods eagerly. “Good.” You usual smile is back and he can’t help himself smile at the sight..

You go back to littering hickeys across his chest, painting his skin with purples and deep red and it passes the time exceptionally quickly. So quickly in fact that just as you’re about to take his shirt off, the front door swings open and Fangs comes running in, breathless and waving a takeout bag around.

You and Sweet Pea just stare at him while he gets his breath back

“I’m back! I got Sweet Pea’s video and I’m back!.” He pants, handing you the bag and you take it eagerly, climbing off Sweet Pea’s lap and sitting beside him instead.

“We can see that.” Sweet Pea laughs, taking his food from you.

“Fangs you’re the best!” You say and he sits beside you, a small smirk on his lips. “What video though?”

“Nothing.” Fangs and Sweet Pea share a look that makes you stare at them suspiciously. “Anyway, I’m the best. So erm, what do I get in return?”

“You can have a fry?” You reply, offering him the bag. Sweet Pea steals a couple making you roll your eyes and throw one at him.

“I already had a ton on the way back.” He shakes his head and both you and Sweet Pea let out irritated huffs.

“What?” You ask and he just gives you an awkward smile.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I wanted what Sweet Pea got.”

“Sorry, too hungry. You took to long.”

“Hey, we had a deal. We’re all treated equally in this relationship.” He complains.

“You are. But there are some things that I love more than you and Sweet Pea combined.” You reply, looking between the two of them.

“There is?” Sweet Pea asks concerned but you wave him off.

“Like what?” Fangs asks.

“Pop’s fries. So if you want anything, I suggest you do it to yourself.” You pat his thigh a few times before going back to eating.

“It’s never the same.” He huffs, crossing his arms and you and Sweet Pea share a look as the two of you hold in a laugh.

“What?”

“Have you just admitted to giving yourself hickeys?” Sweet Pea asks.

“What? No!”

“Fangs...” You add, your voice gentler than Pea’s. He quickly looks away, staring at his hands before mumbling quietly under his breath.

“Like one time, years ago...What? I wanted to impress Sweet Pea.”

“Awww.” Sweet Pea blushes and you shake your head at the two of them.

“And you thought giving yourself a hickey was the best way to go about that?”

“He didn’t know I’d done it to myself.” He defends and you raise an eyebrow.

“I did wonder why it was on your arm.” Sweet Pea says making you laugh loudly before staring at them in disbelief.

“Okay its official. I’m dating a pair of idiots.”

“A pair of lovable idiots?” Sweet Pea adds, nudging you gently.

“I suppose you are very lovable yes.”

“Enough to stop eating for like two minutes?” Fangs says and Sweet Pea sends him a look.

“Two minutes? Really? You must really disappoint her.”

“It doesn’t disappoint you.” He retorts making Sweet Pea cough awkwardly and start eating again. “And thats not what I meant. It takes less than two minutes to bite my neck. Please, I need attention.”

“Sorry Fangs. Busy.” You say simply making him sigh loudly.

“I can give you hickeys.” Sweet Pea suggests and you stop eating, looking between the two of them.

“That works for me?” You shrug and take a sip from your drink.

“Yeah, okay.” Fangs agrees. He stands and pulls Sweet Pea up with him, the two of them making their way upstairs.

“Have fun.” Sweet Pea says.

“You too.” You call after them. “I’ll join you when I’m finished.”

“I think we’re good thanks.” Fangs shouts, running up the rest of the stairs while Sweet Pea follows and you stop eating, now feeling less hungry and more annoyed.

“Hey! What happened to equal?!”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty x reader #fangs fogarty x you #fangs fogarty x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine #sweet pea x fangs #fangs x sweet pea #fangs imagine #fangs x reader #sweet pea x fangs x reader

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Lilies of the Valley X

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

“Flower essences encourage gentleness and nurturing. And can also calm an overly aggressive person. However, some have the opposite effects.”

Release Date: 06/19/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

YN couldn’t remember the last time she had a check-up. It must’ve been right before she presented when her physician had explained to her, that everything pointed to her sub-gender being an Omega and not a beta. Granted there had been little time for her to dwell on it with her parents outside the door, but it didn’t make for a favorable experience. Her suppressants hadn’t been handled by a doctor, but rather a nurse in a quick drive-thru clinic for which she had to pay $15 every month. Considering how reckless YN had been she went through the suppressants a lot quicker than she should, but no one ever asked any questions.

The place she was at now was a lot nicer and even had some omegas as nurses which YN hadn’t seen much of. The nurse had asked Hoseok and Namjoon to stay outside for privacy reasons and the alphas had encouraged YN to contact them if she needed anything. Now all YN could do was wait. For what she wasn’t too sure, but a health check-up couldn’t hurt. Her phone served as a distractor, as did Rosé:

Rosé: Long time no see…

YN: Sorry I’ve been mia lately. I’ve missed you.

Rosé: I’ve missed you too. Also, you’ve missed so much

Rosé: I met someone!

YN: Who??

Rosé: He’s a beta. A nice beta. I just kinda ran into him one day and we started talking. Isn’t it amazing?!

YN: Yeah, that’s great.

YN locked her phone screen and glanced around the room. On the door, there were the typical pamphlets one would expect all ranging from various topics: sub-genders, presenting, mating, and starting a family. Maybe she should’ve felt something when she looked at them, but YN didn’t feel anything. Not anger or disgust. Not happiness or excitement. It was still far too early in their relationship to consider any of those things. Can it even be considered a relationship? The men were much more invested in it than she was, but then again that was to be expected. They shared a pack bond and YN had only recently started warming herself up to the idea of being with them. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice in the matter, but at least she was thankful the seven of them weren’t pressuring her into anything. Even if they were rushing a bit.

The door opened to a nice-looking woman wearing a lab coat, on the pocket was embroidered: Dr. Jun. “Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Hyoseong Jun.” YN felt herself relax at the warm aura that seemed to surround the woman. “I’m YN. It’s nice to meet you too.” The doctor outstretched her hand and YN shook it. Jun motioned for YN to lay on the exam table and went through the procedural check-up before motioning YN to sit back up. Once YN was comfortable, the doctor took a seat in her chair, attention fully on YN.

“So, what’s the reason for today’s visit?”

Oh. YN didn’t exactly know, but she took her best guess. “I had a bad heat and wanted to see if I could change my suppressants.”

Dr. Jun nodded, focusing her attention on the computer. “Have you ever had a bad heat before this?”

YN swallowed, unsure of how to proceed. Rosé had warned her not to hide these things anymore, but YN was afraid of how people would react. Then, again this was a doctor and confidentiality did exist. “I haven’t had a heat since I presented.”

“Oh?” This caught the doctor’s attention. “Is it something biological? Are you irregular in your heats?”

“Um, no.” YN shook her head, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I just took my suppressants so I wouldn’t have a heat.”

If anything, the doctor seemed even more perplexed at YN’s explanation. “Does your mate know about this?”

“No, I wasn’t with them. My mates have a pack bond and one of the alphas bit me during our first heat so-”

“The lead alpha, correct?”

YN felt time stop, her words dying on her tongue. “No. It was the youngest. We both presented at the same time and he accidentally bit me.”

Dr. Jun nodded, “Yes, but did you share the heat with the other members?”

YN scratched her head, the memories of her first heat were kind of muddled. YN did remember the other’s being there, but not participating in it. “They were there, but Jungkook is the one that bit me.” Seeing the doctor’s confused expression caused panic to swirl in the pit of YN’s stomach. “I was told that the bite of an alpha doesn’t heal.” Dr. Jun shook her head. “That’s only true if the mating bond is completed. Did you complete yours?” Dr. Jun had stood up at this point and was walking towards YN. Noticing her panicked expression and the slight shaking of her hands. “N-no.” A million thoughts were bouncing around in YN’s head as she tried to comprehend what exactly the doctor was implying.

“Only a lead alpha’s bite can’t be healed. If that applied to regular alphas there would be a bunch of mated teenagers running around. I’m sorry, YN but I have no reason to lie to you.”

No, that can’t be true. It couldn’t possibly be. If it were true then that would mean Namjoon bit her. It would mean Jungkook was innocent. It would mean…

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Kim Namjoon was an anomaly. Born to two alphas his birth had been a challenging one: his mother barely surviving it and Namjoon being born two weeks premature. It was a miracle his mother had even conceived, but with the help of hormonal treatments, they had just barely managed. Still, he was a strong child and exceptionally bright. The pros of having two parents of the dominant sub-gender or so he’d been told growing up. None of those things mattered to him though because Namjoon always felt incomplete. Like a part of him was missing and it haunted him. Nothing ever satisfied him because he had no one to share it with.

His parents encouraged him to make friends and even develop crushes, but it was useless. No one was ever up to par with his expectations - no one felt genuine. Eventually, Namjoon learned the hard way that self-isolation at a young age could have devastating consequences and made him an easy target. Not just among his peers but family members as well. Many found Namjoon to be unnatural - alphas should not be together, much like omegas shouldn’t - his family looked for every reason to pick him apart and by extension his parents. Namjoon felt that was a ridiculous stance in general: sub-genders shouldn’t determine who you’re allowed to be with. However, these were unpopular opinions and not ones he could voice as a child without extreme repercussions.

Namjoon kept his head down and avoided people, having few friends, and closing himself off until his eleventh birthday. That was the day Namjoon presented. Alphas didn’t typically present at such a young age, but he’d always been peculiar that day. It wasn’t until he was taken to the doctor and given suppressants that Namjoon finally understood why he was the way he was.

"He must be a lead alpha. Only lead alphas present at such a young age." The doctor had spoken to his parents outside, unaware that Namjoon had his ear pressed to the door. "It means your son likely carries the pack bond. He'll have multiple mates and will be able to sense them." Namjoon had been so shocked at that statement, he merely fell when the door opened. The second he got home he researched everything he could on pack bonds and how they worked. It might not be the case, as it was extremely rare, but it didn't hurt to hope. That was the one prevalent emotion that filled Namjoon: hope. He didn't know why, but it just made sense to him. He wouldn't simply find a mate like everyone else - no they were destined.

Being so rare there was limited information about it. Most of it is pure speculation as most individuals with a pack bond weren't open to sharing their experiences online or those that did claim provided little proof. It didn't really matter as it would be just two weeks later on the first day of school that Namjoon would feel it: the smell, pull, tug that innate feeling that drove him away from his parents and towards the center of the large crowd. Standing there with an old grey hoodie and scruffed converse was Min Yoongi. Namjoon's nose immediately picked up on the light scent of myrrh coming from him and a thought popped into his head. Beta? Though that was impossible as it looked like Yoongi hadn't presented yet, still, something inside Namjoon knew.

It seemed Yoongi was on edge, but the second their eyes met the elder rushed towards Namjoon embracing him in a hug. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” It left both their lips simultaneously and both seemed shocked until Yoongi laughed it off. “I’m Min Yoongi. Nice to meet you, mate.” Namjoon had never felt happier.

There was still an ache there, a craving, but Namjoon ignored it for the most part. Then, he felt it again. The pull. The need. Namjoon had stayed late after school working on a project when the soft thumps coming from the dance room caught his attention. Now had he been thinking logically, he might have noticed Namjoon was too far away from the dance room to possibly be able to hear music. But he did and so Namjoon followed the sound towards the room and towards Jung Hoseok. Who froze mid-step the second Namjoon threw the door open, there meeting was a bit different: instead of rushing to meet him Hoseok simply stood shocked. As seconds turned into minutes, the only words that escaped Hoseok where “the fuck.” Before rushing to meet Namjoon and nearly causing him to fall.

The second they embraced Namjoon’s nose rubbed against Hoseok’s neck and he felt a strong citrus scent. Alpha. Was his immediate thought, but he didn’t share it with Hoseok too caught up in the moment.

Slowly Namjoon began to meet his mates: Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All of them experiencing the same reaction upon meeting him and once they meet each other the connection only strengthened. The group stayed together for seven years and it was easy too considering the school they attended housed an elementary, middle, and high. Despite them knowing what they were to each other they simply remained close friends. Best friends. At least until Jungkook entered High school. By then most of them had presented and Namjoon's hunches had been correct. Still, something unnerved him and the others, though they would never directly mention it, they weren't complete.

It was as if they had all spent years building an elaborate puzzle only for the final piece to be missing. It became increasingly frustrating and Namjoon felt the most guilty as no matter how hard he searched, nothing provided him with answers. It was two years of searching by him and the others, yet there had been nothing. No instantaneous connection. No pull or need. They were beyond content with each other but never satisfied. By then news had already spread that the group were mates and shared a pack bond, which didn't make their search any easier. It's a bit ironic how fate strikes. Or maybe it's cruel. Namjoon would argue it's both. For when the group stopped searching is when they found their missing piece.

Namjoon was in his senior year, Seokjin and Yoongi had already graduated but since they all lived together it impacted their relationship very little.

“Don’t overexert yourself.” Jimin stood in front of Jungkook, scolding him after the latter had practically collapsed once the relay was over.

“But hyung we won. That’s what’s important.” The youngest pouted adorably and Namjoon had to resist every urge to tease him about it. It didn’t really matter because someone would always do it for him.

“Aw. Jungkookie you’re so cute.” Taehyung spoke, ruffling Jungkooks hair. Soon enough the three of them began bickering between themselves.

Namjoon looked over the crowd trying to find Hoseok, who had left to bring them all snacks before their next game. It was sports day and in Yeong-gwang that meant another way to prove their superiority among other schools. Namjoon, despite his build, was never the athletic type but most of his mates were so they were drafted by the school to compete. He wasn’t going to complain since it meant he got to skip the dreaded clean up since Namjoon was technically a volunteer. By technically, it meant he got special perks because 4/6 of his mates competed and their families were the school’s biggest beneficiaries.

“Namjoon.” Taehyung stood in front of him, brows scrunched up. “I’ve been calling you for like ten minutes.”

Namjoon shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I was distracted.” He ignored the fact that Taehyung hadn’t used honorifics figuring he’d punish him for it later.

“Please go find Hobi-hyung. We’re about to start soon.”

Hoseok was likely in the refreshments section were there currently stood a large crowd of people from his school and those visiting. However, Namjoon didn't head over there preferring instead to take a long way and pass through the lily garden. It was the school's pride and joy, one of the largest privately-owned collections in the country. Most of the students didn't really care for it, but all of them respected it. Sometimes kids from other schools tried to sneak in and vandalize it, but it was only accessible through a key card or a code: one every student had. Namjoon didn't know what led him to the garden only that he had a strong urge to see it.

It was when he saw the gate unlocked and the door opened that he panicked a bit. Rushing inside to make sure no one had sneaked in - then he saw her. She wore the school’s uniform with a denim jacket on top. A red sash with the words ‘volunteer’ draped across her body. Namjoon’s heart began to race as his eyes began to water. Finally, he’d found her. The missing piece. His last mate. Slowly, she turned around facing Namjoon with a confused expression. There was a hint of recognition in her eyes and Namjoon expected that any moment now she would run and embrace him. Tell him how she had longed for him and the others the way they had for her.

“Excuse me. Why did you lock the gate?”

Namjoon was taken aback, struggling to get any words out. “What?” She marched towards him, but instead of running into his arms she sidestepped and went around him. Opening the gates back up and leaving. Namjoon stood still for a moment or two before he gave chase. He tried to be inconspicuous but knew it likely didn’t seem that way from an outside perspective.

“YN! There you are.” A group of girls reached her before Namjoon could, embracing her and pulling her away. The slight action caused a hint of her scent to reach him, lilies consuming his senses as another thought prevailed. Omega.

“Are you certain?”

“I saw her, hyung.”

“And she didn’t react?!”

“No. She just walked past me.”

“Did you at least get her name, hyungie.”

“YN. She must be around Jungkook’s age.”

Silence surrounded all of them back in their small apartment. Namjoon ran his hands through his hair, feeling frustrated. Seokjin felt conflicted at everything that was happening. Namjoon had never been wrong, but YN’s lack of reaction would imply that he was. Maybe she simply knew their mate or spent a long time around them and that is why Namjoon picked up the scent. Then again that seemed like too much of a stretch. Yoongi thought about everything, what were the odds that their mate would be right there in front of them the entire time. Then again, they had all been in the same place and it hadn’t been until Namjoon presented that they’d felt it. Still, Yoongi had felt the bond long before he presented.

“What is she?”

Namjoon turned to face Yoongi, “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what Yoongi meant, but wasn’t sure if he should share that kind of information.

“What is her sub-gender?” Yoongi persisted, trying to grasp if that played a role in it. Maybe she was an alpha and just didn’t pick up Namjoon’s scent. Perhaps she’d recently presented -

“She’s an omega,” Namjoon muttered seeing the way their expression shifted. No one they knew was an omega or at the very least no one in the school had yet to present as one. Given the difficulties, omegas often faced it would be difficult for someone from an omega family to be able to enter their school. Not to mention how difficult pure omegas were to come by. “She hasn’t presented yet.”

Hoseok who had remained quiet thus far spoke out, fully aware that his words might only worsen the situation. “I’ve never heard of an omega in a pack bond.” At this Namjoon became frustrated, “Do you think I’m lying?!” Jimin rushed to comfort him. “No. That’s not it. We’re all just confused, maybe there’s someone who could provide us with answers.” Namjoon had someone in mind but wasn’t sure if they would help at all. Seokjin cleared his throat drawing all their attention, “That’s all fine and well but we should meet her first, no?”

“Excuse me, YN!” YN turned around to see a much taller boy running to her at full speed. Once he reached her, he stopped and smiled. “Sorry. You’re YN, right? Kevin sent me to get you because you forgot to put your student id in the volunteer form so they can’t give you the hours.” YN’s weight shifted on her feet, “Oh. Um, how did you find me then?” The boy kept smiling, but there was a bit of an edge to it now. “You wrote down your fifth period and Kevin described you to me.” YN was still hesitant to give a random stranger her student id, even if he did look harmless enough and had an office pass.

“Look, I know this looks sketchy and normally we’d just contact the teacher but Professor Wei isn’t answering his phone and their inputting the hours today.” YN sighed, that did sound like something Wei would do. “Alright, do you have somewhere for me to write it down?” The boy grinned and for a brief moment, YN thought about how adorable the smile was. Almost bunny-like.

“It’s her.”

“I told you so.”

“I can’t believe we actually found her.”

“We can finally be complete now.”

“...but why didn’t she react with Kookie either?”

“Maybe it has something to do with her being an omega? Maybe she’ll feel the bond once she presents.”

“So we wait, then? That doesn’t feel right.”

“No, we can still get close to her we just don’t announce our intentions outright.”

Namjoon agreed, “Eventually she’ll feel the bond. She’ll come to us and everything will be made right.”

Dr. Kang looked down at the seven men who had all crowded into his study. Kang had become a sort of confidant for Namjoon ever since he presented. Being a professor in sub-gender studies and specializing in mythology caused Namjoon’s parents to seek him out in an effort to aid their son. Though the nature of their relationship was meant to be purely transactional, Kang did eventually develop a soft spot for the boy. One not born out of mere scientific interest. Kang had been there when Namjoon had met all the others and though never directly meeting them, he knew of them. Knew enough. Enough to know that the pack bond couldn’t be completed as they had yet to find their last mate. Unfortunately, it seems it would never be completed.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but omegas can’t have a pack bond.” The look in all seven of their eyes, made Kang feel as if he had just plunged a spear through their heart. “But I felt it. We all did.” Namjoon insisted and Kang had to agree. “That may very well be true, but it is impossible for an omega to feel the bond. It isn’t biologically possible, at least not in any text that I’ve seen.” They all remained silent, letting the information sink in. Kang felt pity for them all, he truly did. Pack bonds were a rarity and beauty. To be left without a mate all the while knowing who they are must damage one’s soul. Not to mention psyche.

“What do you mean it’s not biologically possible,” Jungkook questioned, his hands fisting the dark material of his jeans.

“Well,” Kang cast a look around his office searching for the specific book he had in mind. “All omegas are pack omegas. Legends tell us this is from a time before alphas could breed with each other and beta pregnancies were risky. Male omegas were also high in abundance, so all omegas were forced to mate in order to ensure the survival of the pack.” In Kang’s opinion, it was little more than a glorified abuse tale, but it did help to explain the situation. “Due to this omegas didn’t typically mate. So, the pack bond didn’t truly apply to them.” Kang sighed, “Obviously, omegas can mate. It affects them the way it would any other sub-gender, but since there is no historical evidence of omegas experiencing the pack bond it’s best to assume it is impossible.”

“So what then?” Taehyung asked, clearly agitated. “She won’t recognize us?! She won’t want to be with us?!”

Dr. Kang shook his head, “Not unless it’s of her own merit. If you can convince her to be with you, then you all can mate and the pack bond will be complete.”

“And if not?” Namjoon raised his head out of his hands. His voice deep and eyes hollowed. Kang was aware it wasn’t directed at him, but it was terrifying nonetheless.

“Then she will present, meet, and mate with someone else. There’s nothing you can do about it. The law will only allow the breaking of a mating bond if it is consensual.”

Dr. Jun reached over hesitantly and touched YN’s shaking hands. “Are you alright?” YN was unable to answer. Instead, she shook her head hoping the doctor would understand. “I see. Do you want me to go get your mates?” No! YN’s hands latched onto Jun’s not letting her go any farther. “I’m sorry if anything I said scared you, YN. That was not my intent. There are a few questions, I would like to ask you, however.” There was a knock on the door, an urgent one, and YN froze in fear. Tentatively June excused herself, heading towards the door. It was the omega nurse looking visibly anxious.

“I’m sorry to bother, but your next patient is here and it’s an emergency. Something wrong with the baby.”

Dr. Jun gasped, “Oh dear. Alright, I will be there soon.” The door closed and Jun turned to face YN. “I’m so sorry dear. I’m afraid I have to cut this a bit short.”

“I understand. Thank you for your time.” The response just slipped out, YN not having put too much thought into it.

“I’ll get you off suppressants and ask for your alphas to be put on rutters. Be sure to schedule an appointment if your heat is off again.”

YN nodded, slipping off the exam table and walking towards the door. Her phone in her back pocket vibrated and YN slipped it out typing the message fast without thinking of the possible consequences. Then as she neared the exit, she deleted the message and turned her phone off. YN pushed open the door to see both Namjoon and Hoseok still sitting in the waiting room, smiles on both their faces.

“Ready to go?”

“Yup.”

YN: Come to my place tomorrow at noon. Say it’s an emergency don’t give up until they let you in. If they refuse, call the cops and show them this message but don’t show the guys.

Hope you enjoyed ~~~

Tag List:

@hxsxxk-180294 @saxpam24 @trixsterbi @mel-gonzalez07 @cstobitk @dionysus-png @taekimxx @moonlitehunter @joonie-grim @wonderlace19 @sugashaye @rosey-roseu @mintaemark @ciderxi @soloikeadates @alex--awesome--22 @ruth619 @tinger-k @thenyousaidhello @missseoulite @justdidabadthing @ireallylikefoodandyoutube @letmebeyour-sun @lyoongx @kpopfictrash @purpuravm @unsureofwhathappens @blank-et-noir @thatchampagnebitch @nooooooooona

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littlemoondarlingarts · 3 years

Text

Unfortunately it happened

A short story about two of my ocs that I've been writing for a while, please read the trigger warnings carefully before proceeding to the story.

Genre: magical realism with hints of psychological horror.

Word count: 4293 words.

Tw: Abuse, domestic abuse, past abuse, ptsd, hallucinations, claustrophobic scenes, blood, glass shards, mild sexual scene, possible sexual assault, disrespecting the boundaries of an autistic child, abandonment issues.

If there are any more possible trigger warnings that I didn't write, please let me know.

Drip.

The thick warm blood irregularly dripped onto the rotting floor as Theodore tried to wrestle out the large glass shard that was lodged deep in his skull. He knew that pulling it out would only cause him to bleed more, but he had no other choice, his body just wouldn't heal around it. It's not like he could even go to a hospital. They ask questions there. Too many questions. He hissed in pain, fingers slipping over the smooth, wet surface, making the job ten times harder than what it already was.

Fear and pain overwhelmed his senses to the point where he couldn't even hear the squeaks of the wooden planks that normally annoyed him to no end. He only noticed that someone was in the small room with him when a pair of tiny pale feet stopped right infront of him.

"Stay back baby, there's glass on the floor." He let his hand fall down, the stubborn shard finally dislodged from his forehead, "Go back to your room, I'm okay." The obvious lie slipped through his blooded lips like smooth butter, if there was something Theodore excelled exceptionally at, it was lying with confidence so great that you would believe him over your very own eyes.

"Why don't you stop him?" Fran asked meekly, shoulders tense and lips pouty, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his favourite shirt violently enough to tear the delicate embroidery his dad had spend countless hours on.

Theodore lifted his head, his tired eyes taking in the heart wrenching sight of the boy he grew to call his son. Fran's whole body was trembling, his small fingers red and bruised from unconsciously fighting with the thread, his nose was swollen, the skin around his eyes was puffy. It was clear as day that the little boy had been crying for a while now.... probably since the fight started.

"Franny," Theo started softly, "I'm alright now. It's over, okay? Just go to your room, I'll follow you in a bit. Promise."

But the little vampire didn't budge, his cold feet planted firmly on the floor, lips forming a thin line accompanied by a deep frown barely hidden by loose white curls. Theodore sighed, he wanted so badly to hold his son's hands and carry him back to his room like he did every night before, but he was scared if he'd moved even an inch more he'd tear his shirt even further, revealing more bruises and cuts, subsequently traumatizing the boy more. So he stayed put.

"Why don't you stop him?" Fran repeated.

"Baby you know I-"

"WHY DON'T YOU STOP HIM?!"

The abrupt outburst took Theodore by surprise, making him flinch back on the bed. His wide blue eyes were chaotic as they searched the smaller one's face for any ounce of sympathy. It was silly, really, to be looking for such emotions in a clearly overwhelmed and traumatized kid, but Theo couldn't help himself, couldn't help the fear that was eating away at him, one angry word at a time.

"I know you can, Teddy. You used to stand up to daddy! And he was a VAMPIRE!" Fran said with a bit of pride in his voice, "You know what? I think we should go back to living with him! Maybe Elliot is waiting for us there! And the-"

"Elliot left. He isn't waiting for us anywhere, he doesn't want us anymore." Theodore shrunk back to himself when he noticed the amount of venom in his voice, "Besides Franny, you know I'll never let him hurt you. I'll never let anyone hurt you." He tried giving the most reassuring smile he could muster with the dull ache in his bruised cheeks.

Fran was silent for a long, dreadful second before hot tears raced down his face, "You can't even protect yourself..."

That sentence was like a punch to the gut. He never thought about the consequences that their constant fighting had on his son. He thought, no, he made himself believe that as long as Fran was in no immediate physical danger, everything was okay. It almost frightened him just how much he was willing to ignore and sweep under the rug just to let himself feel like a good father.

"I don't feel safe here... I'm scared." Fran sniffled, "I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and-and find you dead!" It was getting harder for the little vampire to speak as the tears kept flowing, "Or.. or that you would... would just leave me here like Elliot did... or.. or yo-" violent sobs wrecked his body, forbidding him from finishing his sentence.

Theodore was lost. He promised Rouge and Elliot.. fuck those two, he promised himself that he would give Fran the best life possible, and yet here he is... shaking and wailing helplessly... He needed to do something, and he needed to do it fast. But what? What could he do?

What would dad have done? Dad wouldn't let himself be in this fucking situation. But if he was ... what would he have done?? Theodore's hands were now shaking uncontrollably as he tried to think of an answer. He would've pulled me close. Held me tight in his arms and told me that he'll keep me safe no matter what. That everything will be okay. Yes. Yes... that's what he would've done.

And so he reached forward, taking the now bloodied tiny hands in his and pulling Fran into his arms, holding the sobbing boy as tight as he could.

But the truth is. What his father would've done is vastly different that what Theodore should've done. Because in that moment of pure loss and desperation, he forgot one crucial detail... Fran can't handle being touched. Especially not being hugged.

Fran yanked himself backwards with powers unnatural to him, his body was sent flying until he hit the floor with a loud thud that almost made Theodore's heart stop, but to the boy, anything was better then being held like that.

"Franny... I'm so sorry... I forgo-" Before he could finish his sentence, the vampire was on his feet and running out the room. His loud footsteps quickly fading into nothingness before the deafening slam of a door shook the old house to it's core.

Theodore let himself fall back on the bed, sending small dust particles flying all over him and irritating his allergies. He quickly placed a hand over his nose to stop himself from inhaling any of that dust, he can't afford having his brains ooze out his wounds if he sneezed.

His eyes closed before he could decide otherwise. It's okay... it will be okay.. he'd probably gone to bed now, I should do that too. Tomorrow will be different, it will be better, I'll make some scrambled eggs and bacon.. wait no, Fran is a vegetarian you idiot, he doesn't eat that shit!... fuck. I can make uh... grilled cheese sandwiches.. yeah he'll surely like that....

But deep down Theodore knew that he isn't a kid that can go to bed when he is tired or in pain anymore, he is an adult now, with a kid of his own and all the responsibilities that come with it..

The obnoxious sound of the sports channel blaring from the living room and the rhythmic pouring of rain on the window along with phantom barking of a distant dog were like a hammer smashing into Theodore's head over and over again. Every little sound was cranked up to a hundred, even his own heartbeating was agonizing.

He forced his body to sit back up, becoming face to face with the long mirror nailed to the wall which seemed to be closing in on him. Theodore instinctively pushed himself backwards until his back hit the cold wall as the room began fold in on itself until the mirror was nearly touching his feet. He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to ground himself as his claustrophobia kicked in and his breathing quickened to a painful degree.

He forced his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the walls that were now touching every inch of him. And his thoughts drifted back to the only place they could... Is it possible Franny is scared like this now? He feels unsafe.. he said that himself.. I can't just leave him alone in his room until the next sunset... that's not what dad would've done.. that's..that's what mom did... leave me alone and ignore me when I needed her most then pretend nothing happened the next day... that's what I was going to do...

The thought made his eyes shoot open only to be faced with her image in the mirror, blue eyes staring down at him with familiar disappointment. His blood boiled. He is becoming her! Repeating the cycle of neglectful abuse and torment until noone survives. In a moment of blind rage he balled his fist and swiftly moved to shatter the mirror and all the pain it was causing, but he found himself slammed to the floor, bloody knuckles causing a dent in it... it seems as tho the wall was still as far away as it always had been.

He stayed there for a moment, tears pouring down unapologetically as he tried to compose himself. He soon found enough willpower to stand up, but before he could take a step forward, sharp pain shot up straight to his head, forcing him to grab onto the nearest wall for balance.

Once the pain dulled down enough for him to be able to open his eyes, he looked down at the apparent source, only to see that his right ankle had doubled in size, blue and swollen as if there was a tennis ball underneath the skin. He rested the back of his head on the window, feeling the cold droplets of rain leaking through and falling on his cheeks.

He sighed, he would heal, he always did. But it would take time, and unlike Silas, this fucker never cared for him after beating him up. Theodore chuckled to himself, never in a million years did he think he would use Silas as a positive example for anything, goes to show just how low his life had sunk.

Nevertheless, he needs to persist, not for himself but for the little vampire that depended on him.

He thought about taking a quick shower to wash off all the blood, but something told him not to, to just check on Fran as soon as possible, and Theodore's gut feeling had never failed him before, so he always followed it, even if he knew that his son was safe in his bed, wrapped in a fluffy blanket that Theo had spent all his money on. He smiled, remembering how Franny's eyes twinkled when he first saw the bee pattern on it. Oh how he wishes he would see him this happy every second of every day.

Still smiling, he managed to take off the ripped shirt without aggravating his injuries too much. He held the black tee in his hands, staring at the bright neon pink "Angel♡" written on it in a metal font with the white signature of the singer along the neck.

He got this shirt 2 years back when he went to the live performance, Angel wasn't even the main performer back then, they were merely the opening act. Given how small they were, they didn't have a signing booth, it was actually pure luck that Theodore managed to meet them outside while they were waiting for a taxi.

And he thought that Rouge was tall! Angel was at least eight feet, to the point where he felt like a little cat after cranking his neck up so high just to be able to see their face, and what a truly terrifying face it was! Almost nightmarish with their black bug eyes and their long pointy teeth! But they were nice, maybe a bit blunt and lacking a social filter, but after being with Fran for a while, Theodore got used to unwanted comments... wait.. Fran... now THAT is what he was here to do!

He immediately put his favourite shirt down on a nearby wooden chair, promising to fix the rip the moment he can carry something as delicate as a needle without his hands shaking and dropping it, he threw on an oversized sweater that used to belong to Elliot, a pair of ghost patterned pyjama pants and made his way to the corridor.

Theodore was still grabbing onto the walls as he limbed his way to the door covered in stickers, it was slightly ajar which was strange considering that Fran had slammed it, but with how rusted the hinges are, anything is possible. He slowly pushed the door open, peering into the dark room, noticing how the moonlight softly illuminated the blanket-covered lump on the bed.

He should be happy? Maybe relieved? But instead, all he could feel is the bile rising to his throat, and he just couldn't tell why, perhaps he was just anxious about the impending talk. Yes. It must be that.

Theodore slowly stepped toward the small bed, feeling the mattress sink under his weight as he sat on it. "Hey Franny..." no answer, "It's me Teddy," again, nothing. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his aching neck, "listen I came here to apologise, and I... are you asleep??" He pulled down the blanket only to see that it was only a group of plushies in the vague shape of a kid.

Adrenaline shot through his body making him forget all about his pain and injuries as he quickly opened the closet, looked under the bed, tore the covers from the bed. Yet.... Fran is nowhere to be seen.

"FRAN!" Theodore yelled at the top of his lungs, "FRAAAANN!" He stood aimlessly in the little room filled with the missing boy's trinkets and drawings, his breath so fast he could hear it as he impatiently waited for an answer, "Baby where are you?!"

He could feel the little plushies staring at him, knowing where his baby is but not telling him, they don't want Fran to go back to being with such a horrible father. Theodore grabbed his son's favourite one, a large fluffy bee he had won for him during a passing carnival. He forcefully held it, his fingers smearing the blood all over the bright yellow as he shook it back and forth in the air.

"Where is he goddamn it! Where is he?" He screamed over and over again at the defenseless bee.

To anyone passing by, this seems like complete and utter madness, a father interrogating a stuffed animal instead of searching the whole house for his missing son? But to Theodore in the moment, it made sense. These plushies were the closest to the little vampire, they know his secrets and feelings more than Theo ever apparently did. So it must be obvious that they would be the ones knowing where his precious baby would be.

"I know you know! So just tell me!" His voice broke as a pained sob took over him, making him hold onto the door handle as his knees seemed to buckle under him. "I'll make it better... I swear.."

"He went out you crazy bitch!" The familiar gruff voice came from the living room, it was naturally loud enough to drown out everything else, even the news channel. Or perhaps that was just Theodore's mind only focusing on what matters to him, whichever case it was, he heard it loud and clear.

"What?" He whispered, soft and almost silent; like a deer caught in headlights, he couldn't move a single muscle in his body. He was painfully aware of this, too; the fact that he is just. Sitting. There. Like a useless piece of shit. His brain screamed at him to 'MOVE IT YOU FUCKER! MOVE!' But his body was almost paralyzed, unable to do anything, not even blink.

It may have taken mere seconds to get up and be in the living room, but it felt like years. Years of him being useless and worthless.

He ran down the short corridor.

He ran.

And ran.

And with every step, the corridor seemed to stretch further and further, the end feeling more like a mirage as countless doors strung on the walls. Screams were erupting from behind them, defeaning and terrifying. A minute of thinking would've made him recognize the voice as Fran's, and this was one of the many instances where he regretted ever doing that. Theodore shut his eyes, covering his ears with his hands and just ran forward like a fish in the deep dark ocean where the sun can't reach.

"What do you mean?" His voice was erratic when he finally made it to the living room, gripping the worn down sofa that his "boyfriend" was sitting calmly on, as if a kid isn't out in the dark and rain all on his own.

"He's just breathing some air after all that shit you caused!" The man turned to look at him, "You think I didn't hear all that? Well news flash baby, I have ears."

His absolute nonchalance about the whole thing was irritating Theodore to no end, and Theodore wore his emotions on his sleeves. His eyes darkened dangerously as he almost felt himself growl, but he had to control himself as that would definitely get him another beer bottle to the head.

The man chuckled softly, putting his large hand on top of Theodore's much tinier one, "You're too worried about him, Francis is-"

"Fran." He corrected in a low, deep voice.

"Whatever, same thing. Point is, he is a little man now! If he wants to go out and calm his nerves after you wrecked them, then let him!" He smiled, trying to pull the shorter man towards him, but he didn't budge. "Listen baby, you need to give him some time to work out his emotions, stop getting in his business you little helicopter!"

The man pulled again, this time successfully getting the half dissociated Theodore around the sofa and onto his lap. When he said it like that.... it almost made sense. Fran isn't eight and he really was hurt by all that Theo had done tonight and most nights before that, he does need some time to process all that. Or maybe that was just his way of feeling less guilty, believing that this is just a natural reaction rather than face the fact that his son's terrible immune system won't handle the cold and rain.

"That's right baby," the man held Theodore close, and like a moth to flame he leaned into it, craving any sort of affection and sympathy, "calm down now," his rough hands gently petted Theo's curls which were now matted with a mixture of blood, bear and sweat, "it's all okay," He moved his hand down, moving over Theodore's back in slow and rhythmic circles. "Daddy's here," testing his luck, the man moved his hand further down and gripped Theodore's buttocks firmly.

This sent reality crushing down on the poor man, this isn't okay. Nothing about a frail and sickly eleven year old kid being alone outside in the raining night in a place surrounded with dangerous wildlife is okay. No matter how hard he wants to shake the guilt off. How hard he wants to lean into this rare moment of gentleness. He can't. Not when his son is all alone. Not in a million years.

Theodore placed his hands on his boyfriend's large chest and pushed himself off his lap, getting to his feet as quickly as he can without losing his balance and running to the door as if he is a prisoner that just found the keys.

"Well fuck you too slut! I never wanted your trashy ass anyway! Go get eaten by wolves! You and your annoying ass kid!"

But Theodore had already made it outside and started the long process of running around aimlessly and yelling Fran's name at the top of his lungs. After thoroughly running through the front yard, he took a deep freezing breath and made his way into the surrounding woods where the fading moonlight didn't reach.

He quickly lit up the lighter, the rain putting out the flame before he could do anything, so he bent down, wrapping his body around it like a deer would to her fawn, and tried lighting it up again. The small flame persisted long enough for it to turn blue and be transferred onto Theodore's palm.

He extended the demonic flame infront of his face, making his eyes twinkle with otherworldly lights, he was hoping that animals would find it's strange color intimidating rather than inviting, and that Fran would recognize it as his and find him. Clearly too much faith in a silly little flame, even if it is magical in nature.

Theodore's feet got sliced and bruised by the rocks and thorns on the ground, but nevertheless he persisted, his dark fingers gripping the ancient trunks for dear life, not caring about the skin being scratched and peeled off if them.

He opened his mouth to yell for his boy, "Fraaan.." he coughed, hoping that his voice would come back, "Fra.... fuck me." His voice was gone, almost completely after the endless screaming and yelling he did this night, both while searching for Fran and the big fuckin fight that had happened before.

With no voice to speak of, Theodore felt... weak. He couldn't yell for Fran and the hope that the boy would see the flame on his own and follow it is... statistically very low. He was defeated. He failed himself, his father, Fran... everyone that can be failed.

He made his way out of the forest, he had already searched the surrounding area on foot. He had the small tiny twinkle of hope that Fran had made his way back home alone, that he really was just breathing some air. That he is now safe and cuddled underneath the blanket. Safe. And sound.

Theodore stood infront of the closed door. Body shaking from the cold rain and pain, he stood there for a while, just letting the tears silently fall down, not daring to go inside and face the truth.

"Teddy?" A small familiar voice echoed in his head, making him smile a little. He had been first given that nickname by his mom, but now that Franny used to call him that, it no longer feels... humiliating. It feels warm and comfortable, it feels like a purpose and having someone that depends on you and trusts you.

"Teddy!" The small voice came again, this time angrier, like a tiny kitten's hiss.

Is it possible that this.. isn't in Theodore's head? That Fran was actually yelling for him?

He tore his eyes away from the door and looked around, and sure enough, he easily spotted the head of white fluffy hair struggling to get out of under his boyfriend's car.

Theodore rushed to help his son get out without being scratched or injured, he held the boy's tiny hands and pulled slowly, stopping to fluff down his shirt to make the sliding easier. Once his bottom was out, his short legs were an easy task.

"Thank gawd! I thought I was gonna be stuck under there forever! Or that that bastard was gonna drive tomorrow and I'll become tomato paste!" The little boy was flailing his arms around as he spoke, finally settling for a dramatic break as while saying "tomato paste!"

He tried keeping himself composed, he really did, slowly stroked his son's curls, but quickly enough Theodore crumbled. Exhaustion, pain and all that worry that he was barely holding, finally broke him. He hid his face behind his hands as he cried uncontrollably. His drenched shoulders shaking with each painful sob.

"Teddy?" Fran asked worriedly, his soft voice kept quiet as if Theodore was a rabbit that he didn't want to scare off. "Why are you crying?"

It might seem like a stupid question given the circumstances, and if it was anyone else, Theodore would've given them the deathglare. But he knew that Franny genuinely couldn't understand the consequences of actions, wether they were his own or others. So he simply sniffled and smiled as bright as he could, resuming to fluff up his baby's hair.

Fran's face scrunched up as if he had tasted a lemon, his soft features all grouping in the middle of his face. But he didn't mind this, not really, he just found it fun to do this face because he doesn't get to often. And Theodore knows this, they spoke about this before... before this.. him.

"I wanna sleeeeeeeeeeep." Fran whined while pouting, earning him an honest chuckle from his dad.

Theodore opened his arms as his son jumped up, landing perfectly on his waiting shoulder. Fran swung his feet, accidentally hitting his father's chest a few times, not too many times tho as he was doing his absolute best to avoid it. But that swinging was making it harder for Theo to safely stand up, but he made do and made his way back indoors carrying his son like a sack of potatoes, which is the only way Franny likes to be held.

Deep in his mind, Theodore knew that this won't be the end of this abusive relationship, he was too dependent, too afraid of being abandoned and left alone to leave. But the cracks were only becoming more and more prominent, and hell was knocking on their door.

#my art #my writing #my oc #oc #theodore #fran #do i have to add all the tws here?#i don't think i do #anyway #take care

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curlynerd · 3 years

Text

@spnwomenweek Day 7: Free Space because I'm bad at deadlines and missed AU day.

Harvelle’s Sweet Treats - Home of delicious cupcakes, cookies bigger than your head, and the prettiest baker Charlie has ever seen. Now if only she could ask her out without making a total fool of herself.

1.8K word count, copious amounts of Jo and Charlie fluff

Read on AO3

Five days. That was long enough, right? Five days between visits to a bakery was a totally normal, non-stalker-ish, “oh hey I just really like cupcakes, ya know?” amount of time to wait to go there again.

Right?

Yes. Definitely.

Hell, after five days, the cute girl behind the counter had probably long forgotten Charlie. It was a popular bakery, after all.

Yeah, she’d definitely forgotten Charlie by now.

Well...that was depressing.

Charlie huffed and readjusted her backpack on her shoulders. Whatever. She’d just make Bakery Girl remember her! They’d had a great conversation. A totally memorable chat.

About cupcakes.

In a store that sold cupcakes.

Okay, probably not so memorable.

She stifled a groan. Dammit Charlie! This wasn’t hard! She knew how to flirt! She flirted all the time!

...Not with girls this cute though. Not girls with beautiful blonde waves to make even Galadriel jealous. Not girls who smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and sugar.

Charlie shifted from one foot to another as she waited at the crosswalk. Her time to chicken out was rapidly dwindling. Harvelle’s Sweet Treats was just on the other side of the road. But, hey, nothing wrong with being a chicken. Six days between visits was better than five, right? Even less weird?

The crosswalk sign changed.

Charlie groaned out loud and earned herself a concerned look from a businessman walking alongside her. She forced a smile and started jogging the rest of the way to escape his judgement. Unfortunately that left her staring at the door to Harvelle’s much sooner than intended.

She took a deep breath. “You got this, Bradbury. Woman up! Just don’t think about how she smells like cupcakes and you’ll be fine.”

At that moment the blonde woman behind the counter noticed her lurking outside the door and grinned at her, gesturing for her to come inside.

Charlie’s eyes went wide as saucers. “I don’t got this,” she squeaked.

But it was too late now. Bakery Girl had spotted her. If she ran away now…

No, she couldn’t consider that.

Charlie squared her shoulders. She felt like Link staring down the entrance to Ganondorf’s castle, only without any of the sages to back her up. If only she had an ocarina on hand to teleport her out of here if things went awry... No. Focus! Charlie shook herself out of her thoughts and entered the store.

“Mornin’!” Bakery Girl’s smile was cheerful and casual. “You know what you want?” She leaned against the counter on her forearm, which caused her gorgeous hair to cascade over her shoulder and frame her face.

And just like that, Charlie’s carefully planned script flew straight out of her head. “Um.” She blinked. Once. Twice. Think, Bradbury! Think! Do not answer “you,” okay? That’s just weird. Think of literally any other answer!

Bakery Girl chuckled at Charlie’s dumbstruck stare. “We sell coffee, if you’re still waking up,” she said with a wink, which only drove Charlie even closer to a full-fledged hardware meltdown.

“Coffee! Mm-hmm!” Charlie squeaked with an over-enthusiastic nod. “Yes! I will take one coffee and one...er, cupcake,” she added, determined to get back on script before she blurted out something stupid and completely ruined any chance she might have with Bakery Girl.

“Coffee and cupcake. Interesting breakfast.” Bakery Girl raised an eyebrow as she tucked her hair behind her ear. God, why did she have to keep smiling like that? Charlie was going to have a heart attack!

Charlie nodded again before mentally smacking herself for looking too much like a bobblehead toy. “Well that’s me. Interesting.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, not interesting. Not, like, full of myself. A-And not weird interesting either!” she added hastily. “I mean, okay, yeah, I’m kinda weird. Pretty weird. Comes with the whole...nerd territory. But hey, ha ha, at least I shaved my neckbeard this morning, right?”

Bakery Girl listened to Charlie’s increasingly unhinged rambling with a bemused grin on her face. She shook her head. “Yeah, definitely weird,” she agreed with a laugh, but somehow it didn’t sound like an insult. She pushed off from the counter and rung up Charlie’s order.

Charlie forced herself to take a deep breath. Okay, so operation “Woo The Hot Bakery Girl” was definitely going off the rails, but it wasn’t unsalvageable! She just needed to regroup. Charlie smiled her brightest, sweetest “don’t think I’m a total loser, please” smile as she paid for her food. Bakery Girl grinned back, and any flirtatious comeback Charlie had was lost in thoughts of cinnamon-brown eyes and absolutely adorable apple-round cheeks.

“You got a name, Miss Interesting?”

Charlie blinked and shook off her daze. Bakery Girl was holding a pen up against a coffee cup. “Um.” Charlie looked around the otherwise empty store. “It’s not like you’re gonna mix up my order.”

Bakery Girl pursed her lips and fought down a new smile. “Humor me.” She honest to god winked, and Charlie honest to god let out a tiny, mortifying squeak.

“Charlie!” she blurted out, hot on that noise’s tail. Maybe she was fast enough to cover it. God, she hoped she was fast enough to cover it. “Bradbury. Charlie Bradbury. Though why would I tell you my last name? You don’t need my last name. That’s ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous.” To Charlie’s horror, she couldn’t bring herself to shut up no matter how hard she tried. “You obviously don’t need to know my last name, but um, yep. There it is. Bradbury. Like Ray Bradbury? That. And--”

“You know what flavor cupcake you want?” Bakery Girl cut in, and Charlie was so grateful she almost hopped the counter and kissed her then and there.

“Um…” Once again, Charlie’s carefully planned out script was trapped behind the mesmerizing distraction of Bakery Girl’s smile. No, wait! She remembered! “What do you recommend?” She batted her eyelashes a little and shrugged one shoulder. Yes, this was perfect. Whatever was offered would oh so conveniently be one of Charlie’s favorite flavors. Of course, all cupcake flavors were her favorite, because they were cupcakes. Not a lie. Just an exaggeration.

Bakery Girl glanced down at her display case. “Red velvet,” she said with the hint of a smirk. Her eyes seemed to linger on Charlie’s hair, but surely Charlie was imagining that. Definitely imagining that.

Charlie bit her lip. “Sure! Let’s go with that,” she said in a rush, while internally she screamed about her carefully planned cupcake flavor ruse. Bakery Girl nodded and set about getting Charlie’s order ready. Charlie breathed in deeply, disappointment building with each passing second. This was a bust. This was clearly not going anywhere. Charlie was way too flustered to pull out her usual stops. So far all she’d managed to do is look and act like a socially awkward nerd. Which...well...Pot. Kettle. Black.

Maybe if she came back in another five days, things would go better that time. Or six days. Or sixty.

As Charlie put her wallet away, her eyes landed on the pen cup. There was a cute one with an oversized cartoon cupcake on the end, large enough that it partly obscured the little rainbow flag stuck in there too.

Deep down, Charlie knew that could mean anything. Maybe the owner was gay. Or one of the other employees. Maybe the store did a lot of gay wedding cakes. Hell, it was San Francisco. Pride flags were just good business sense. Charlie had to admit her gaydar could get a little frazzled when confronted by stunningly attractive women. Or maybe she was just exceptionally optimistic.

She decided to pounce on the opportunity anyway. This was her last shot.

She pointed to the little flag and flashed a grin that she prayed wasn’t too awkward. “Hey cool. Samesies.” Dear goddess Selûne, did she really just say samesies? She tried not to cringe.

Bakery Girl laughed. “Yeah, I’m aware,” she said as she brushed her hair behind her ear. And okay, Charlie had to give her that. She gave off that vibe. Also there was a lesbian pride pin on her backpack.

Thinking about it, that might have been the biggest giveaway.

“So…” Charlie began. This was her opening. She knew this was her opening. And if this were anyone less cool, or less hot, or less…all of everything that Bakery Girl had going on, Charlie would be on top of things. She’d have gotten her number and made date plans before she even placed her order.

Instead she rocked back and forth on her heels like a helpless dweeb. Like some sort of awkward middle schooler trying to ask a date to homecoming.

“So…” Bakery Girl agreed, her voice barely containing her laughter. The silence dragged on until it became agony. Charlie thought for certain the pressure to ask her out inflating her chest would burst before she worked up the nerve. But right when Charlie opened her mouth to either speak or let out a pathetic squeak of compressed air, Bakery Girl leaned forward on the counter and raised an eyebrow at Charlie. “So are you gonna ask my name before or after I get your phone number?”

Charlie jerked her head up in surprise. “Phone number?” she squeaked. Her eyes widened. Bakery Girl was asking for her phone number?! SUCCESS! “Um, yeah! Yeah, I…” Charlie grinned from ear to ear. “Name? Your name? Er…” She cleared her throat. “What’s your name anyway? So I can stop calling you Bakery Girl in my head?”

Bakery Girl smirked. “Bakery Girl, huh?” She grabbed the cupcake pen from the cup and held out her hand. Her eyes darted to Charlie’s arm and back to her face as she wiggled her fingers. Charlie hastily held out her hand. “It’s Jo, by the way.” Charlie’s skin tingled where Bakery Girl--Jo! touched her wrist. Jo scrawled out her number on the inside of her arm.

“You know, I coulda just punched it into my phone,” Charlie said, already wondering how weird it would be if she didn’t wash her hand for awhile.

“Yeah, but I like to be old school.” Jo winked at her. Her fingers slid down Charlie’s hand as she released it, and Charlie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Old school, huh?” Charlie grinned. “So like...dinner and a movie, pick me up at eight old school?”

Jo paused a moment to size her up. She bit her lower lip. “Pool,” she said with a cocky smile. “There’s this bar I like where we can play pool.”

Charlie’s shoulders dipped a little. “I don’t know how to play pool.” Could a date fail before it even started? Charlie was beginning to suspect Jo was way cooler than she could ever hope to be.

Jo just shook her head, a knowing twinkle in her pretty brown eyes. “Oh, I figured. I plan to teach you.”

Charlie’s heart leapt into her throat. “Can’t wait.”

#spnwomenweek #jo/charlie #charlie/jo #charlie bradbury #jo harvelle #katie writes things #my fanfic #look I know Charlie's got game in canon but it's *MY* fanfic I do what I want and I wanted her to be an awkward nerd around Jo #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

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minerstatus · 3 years

Text

Teyvat’s School for the Gifted

Summary: He's cruel, mean, and sadistic. Lumine cannot fathom why he has the followers he does, but she won't fall into his hands like the rest of them. It was unknown to her at that time how such a stance would cause the biggest uproar the schools ever seen.

This is the silly drama filled high school/college parody AU nobody asked for filled with Lumine not giving a shit and Childe trying to buy his way out of problems.

Ship: Lumine/Childe

Tags: Highschool AU, Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Jealousy, lots of side ships.

Status: 10/? on Ao3

Chapter 2

She had two options to think about after that ‘encounter’ or whatever you want to call it. Get in line like the rest of the students and eventually ‘hopefully’ her new toy status wears off and she fades into the sea of students. But that would depend on how HE acts after the dinner encounter. And something told Lumine from the way Amber and Barbara reacted to even speaking of the red headed devil he was a force to be reckoned with.

She tossed and turned in the night thinking of different scenarios for the morning.

There were boys like him back home. Maybe not filthy rich, sons of local shop owners, that acted like him. None of them possessed the same air as he did. Being able to part a sea of students just by walking has to be a superpower in itself.

Come to think of it she didn’t even find out where he was from, perhaps she should ask. The more info the better when it comes to defending herself.

She was never one to sit down and take abuse. When she was just in grade school the local boys knew not to mess with her after a few unfortunate incidents. Her mother always told her it was her blonde hair and honey eyes that made her stand out.

It always starts with them testing you. Small things to annoy you, just to see how you react. She would not be able to keep her temper down if that happened. She already had an issue with her mouth as it is.

She turned one final time in the plush bed she had been provided with. The school had made sure even the scholarship students were treated above average. It was impressive, but did little to dampen her jitters.

First day, which means new people and new teachers. Lumine was walked by Amber and Barbara to the faculty building. Razor was found sitting on a bench halfway there. It brought a smile to her face.

Razor had never left Amber’s side the entire night they sat talking. It was girl gossip that Lumine was never into, but enjoyed now that she had some people to actually talk to. Not many people are willing to come to a run-down farm for a sleepover back home. Razor himself didn’t talk much, but Lumine was observant. He sat on her bed and watched her, every action, smile, glance. Lumine was quite interested in understanding what Ambers reservations about him were. She seemed to like him from her perspective.