#and in case you’re wondering he’s tightening his tie to use as some form of knuckle protection (usually used in combat) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.” He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

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drspencerweed · 4 years

Text

Denied

Summary: After a particularly hard case, [Y/N] and Spencer unwind in the best way they know how.

W/C: 4675

Content: Pegging, orgasm denial, edging, Sub!Spencer, Dom!Reader, dom/sub elements,

A/N: Hello! This is my first fic in this fandom so please be nice haha. Don’t like don’t read I don’t own the characters yada yada. Let’s get to the fic!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

The case was a brutal one. Kids. I could never save all of them. The images of them were burned into my brain, and I knew I needed release from that. Spencer sat across from me on the plane, reading. His leg was bouncing uncontrollably. I could feel the tension radiating off of him, and knew he would be in search of some release too. Of course, in front of the team, there was no way for us to do it here. It would have to wait until we got home. The team didn’t even know we were seeing each other, let alone the nature of our relationship.

I had been staring at my boy for too long, and shook my head out of it, making eye contact with Morgan who smirked at me.

Okay, we hadn’t told the team we were seeing each other. They were profilers, they probably had some sort of idea. Even so, there was no way they knew what was actually happening between us. I kept my cards very close to my chest about this stuff. It was a wonder that Spencer himself had found out.

When we got back to Quantico, I said quick goodbyes to everyone, thankful I had gotten my report done on the plane. Spencer made direct eye contact with me when I waved goodbye, and as soon as I turned around, I took my phone out.

My place. One hour. Don’t be late.

I heard his phone ding as the door shut behind me.

~~~~

I took the hour I had given Spencer to get here to prepare myself. I took a long shower, shaved, and set out everything I was planning to use that night on my dresser. Sometimes I liked to taunt him, show him what was coming. His eidetic memory meant he noticed everything that was there and never forgot it, so even if I blindfolded him he was anticipating things. That anticipation made him beg. His begging was music to my ears.

At exactly 6:07, an hour after I had sent the text, my doorbell rang. I adjusted my lace bra and underwear, and pulled up my thigh highs. Taking my time to get the door made him squirm, and I knew it. When I finally opened the door, he was standing there gripping his satchel strap tightly with both hands. He barely met my eyes, staring down at the floor. His gaze flickered over my form but didn’t linger on anything, knowing better than to stare without permission.

“You can look, baby.” I said. The nickname was a clear indication that it was time for him to let go. Time for him to fall into his submissive headspace and give me all the control. His eyes went straight to mine, biting down on his lip as he let himself give me a full once over, really looking this time. They lingered on my tits, and I spun in a circle as he stared so he could see my ass in the thong I was wearing. “Like what you see?”

He nodded dumbly.

Realizing the door was still wide open, I pulled him inside and slammed him against the back of it. I reached up and gripped his cheeks in my hand, hard. “I asked you a question, baby.”

“Y-Yes, miss. I like it.” He whimpered, meeting my eyes again. I smirked and pulled away.

“Good boy. Now strip.”

His eyes widened. Typically, I let him wait until we were in the bedroom for him to remove his clothes. But I wanted to play now. After a second of hesitation, he pulled at his tie and stripped slowly. I watched as he revealed inch after inch of glorious skin. My eyes raked over his body, watching closely as he revealed himself to me. Undoing his belt, he blushed as he tugged his pants down, underwear and all. His cock sprung out, large and flushed red already, hardening before my eyes. I licked my lips, staring at it. He stood there, naked before me, blushing.

I smirked slowly, and he lowered his eyes to the floor. Stalking towards him, I let my eyes go from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. His cheeks flared red and his eyes flickered between the floor and my own. When I reached him, I grabbed his cock in my hand and stroked it slowly. He whimpered, still keeping his eyes downcast. I stroked until he was fully hard, then let go completely.

He whined and pounded a fist against the door. I gripped his cheeks again. “Is that a complaint?”

“No, miss.” He said, trying to shake his head. I squeezed his cheeks once more and then let go, dropping my hands to my sides.

“Look at me.” I demanded. His eyes snapped to mine, and I smiled. One stray hair had fallen slightly in his face, and I reached out and brushed it back. He nuzzled into my hand. Smiling, I let my fingers trail over his mouth. “You can touch. Kiss me.” I said, and he jumped at the opportunity.

His mouth found mine frantically, hands trying to touch everywhere at once. I let my arms rest on his shoulders, carding my fingers through his hair. Spencer’s tongue brushed my lips, and I parted them, letting our mouths mould together. His tongue brushed against mine and it sent a shiver down my spine. Hands roaming my body, he tugged me closer. His hard cock brushed against my stomach. He started grinding slowly. I let him get away with it for a moment, letting his hands wander to my ass where they gripped tightly, pulling me in again as he ground into me.

I tightened my hands in his hair and pulled him back. His eyes fluttered open, mouth hanging open stupidly. I brought one hand to his lips and they closed around my fingers, sucking. I gripped his hair even tighter. He moaned around my fingers.

“No more touching.” His hands dropped from my ass immediately, falling back to his sides. I stepped back from him and just looked, watching him squirm. “Go to the bedroom. Lay down on the bed, on your back, no touching.”

He rushed off, and I gave him a quick slap on the ass as he passed by me. He squeaked but knew better than to turn around, continuing off to where he was meant to be.

I knew he would spend time looking at all the toys I laid out, and I didn’t want to punish him too much tonight. So I took my time getting two glasses of water for after the scene, and readjusted my lingerie in the bathroom mirror. The kissing had made me a little wet, so I could feel my panties start to get cold when they were exposed to the air.

I took a deep breath before entering the bedroom, letting myself completely enter my dominant headspace. Spencer was exactly where I asked him to be, the center of the bed, hands at his sides. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breathing was heavy. He was probably attempting to ignore his hard cock that rested heavy on his stomach. I walked in the room slowly, and his eyes snapped open when he heard the door click behind me. He watched me walk to the end of the bed, and I smiled down at him.

“Ready, baby?” I asked.

He nodded desperately, whining out, “Yes, green, miss.”

I grinned, climbing on to the bed, crawling over his prone form. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” I ghosted my breath over his cock. “I’m going to edge you until you’re begging me to let you come. After that, I’ll slip on the cock ring and edge you some more. You have to make me cum three times before you’ll be given permission.”

“How, miss?” He asked, whimpering. I smirked, moving up his body and leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Like this.” I whispered, and then moved up completely so my pussy was right in front of his face. His mouth opened and his tongue fell out, eager as always.

I pressed my pussy down onto his mouth, his tongue immediately lapping up through my panties. He ran his tongue between my folds in broad strokes. He lingered on my clit then, running tight circles around it with the tip of his tongue. I groaned out loud, throwing my head back and grinding against him.

His lips closed around my clit and sucked, and I rocked my hips into the feeling, holding onto the headboard. One hand dropped down to grip his hair, guiding his head as I ground down into him. He let his tongue slip down, with long strokes that ended in him circling my clit. The panties added friction to the sensation, and I moaned out loud. “Baby...” I bit down on my bottom lip and groaned.

I reached down and slipped my panties off to the side, finally giving him full access to me. He surged forward, his tongue expertly moving against me. The feeling of his tongue on me with no barrier made me groan. I looked behind me and saw his hands clenched in the sheets, clearly trying desperately not to touch. The tip of his tongue circled my clit in fast motions and I let out a low groan.

“You can touch.” I said. His hands flew to my ass, pulling me in and increasing the pressure against my clit. I rocked with the guidance of his hands for a few moments before correcting him. “Yourself, baby. No coming.” He groaned against me, sending vibrations through my clit, and let go slowly, his fingers dancing on my thighs.

I looked behind me to make sure he gripped himself, and watched as his own hand sent a groan through him, and subsequently through me. He stroked his cock in time with his licks against my core, a steady rhythm that had us both moaning. I rocked against him harder, trying to bring myself to an orgasm. I could feel it building within me, my thighs beginning to quiver around Spencer’s head. I gripped his hair tighter. He moaned against me and then wrapped his lips around my clit, alternating between sucking and running tight little circles around it.

“Yes, baby. I’m so close.” I said through a moan. He whined against me. I looked behind me to see his hand speeding up, his cock an angry red. “Stop touching yourself.” I said when I saw his stomach tense, a telltale sign he was about to cum. He let go quickly but slammed his hand into the bed, groaning out in frustration. That noise against my center sent me over the edge, and I twitched my hips against him as I came. He licked me through it, tongue running circle around me until I pulled him off by the hair. I shuddered and moaned, looking down at him and smiling serenely. He gazed up at me, eyes blown out with lust, mouth wet with my juices. “That’s one.” I said, smiling.

I turned around, still straddling his head, but with my ass in his face this time. I looked down at his flushed cock and knew I wanted it in my mouth. I leaned down and let my breath fan over it. His breath hitched, and I dropped my tongue out to run down his shaft lightly. He whined out loud, one of my favorite sounds. Wrapping a hand around his cock, I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked gently. Another whine.

“Make me cum again, baby. You can use your hands.” I ordered. His tongue was on me again, this time entering me quickly while his hands spread me apart. I let out a moan before dropping my head and taking his cock in my mouth.

He tasted clean, and like Spencer. I knew this taste like the back of my hand. I focused my attention on the head, tonguing at his slit and sucking lightly, running my hand along the shaft slowly. His hips shifted, trying not to thrust up into my mouth. He knew what that would get him. One of his hands let go of me, instead pushing two fingers into my pussy, making me groan and drop my head lower, taking more of him in my mouth.

I let myself drool over his cock, making the surface wet and easing the glide of my hand. His lips found my clit as his fingers pumped in and out of me. I rocked back against his mouth in tandem with me sucking his cock, feeling him moan as I increased my speed. His thighs shook as I took him deep in my throat.

His fingers stoped fucking me and simply pressed down, finding my spot and rubbing over it repeatedly. His tongue pressed against my clit and pulsed. The double stimulation had me shaking, grinding back into it and moaning over his cock. I dropped even lower, the pleasure relaxing my throat. His groan hurtled me towards my second orgasm.

I felt it in my stomach, the heat building and spreading down through my core and my thighs. I pulled off and laid my cheek against his pelvis, panting against the bottom of his shaft. I stroked him as I rocked back against his mouth, rubbing my thumb over the head. He pushed his hips up towards me slightly, whining against me. His fingers followed me as I pulled away from his mouth.

“Are you close, baby?” I asked, stroking faster.

“Yes, miss. Oh...please miss.” He whined out, his hips wiggling with the urge to thrust up into my hand.

“Better work harder to make me cum then.” I ordered, sitting back onto his face. He moaned out loud when I took him back in my mouth. His fingers began fucking in and out again, spreading me open. He added a third and I whined around him. Quickly, I was being pushed to the edge again. His tongue found my clit again and stroked in time with his fingers. Pushing back against him, I took him deep in my throat as my orgasm crashed through me. I moaned around him and felt his dick twitch. I immediately pulled off, his whine in frustration pushing me through my orgasm as I denied him his. His cock was so hard it barely touched his stomach, sticking up off his belly.

Once he had fucked me with his fingers through the aftershocks, I lifted off of him and heard him take a few deep breaths, catching it. I swung around so I was straddling his thighs. I smirked down at him as he stared up at me. I dragged a finger over down the shaft of his cock and watched it twitch up towards me.

“So hard, aren’t you baby?” I whispered. He nodded ferociously, his hands balled in fists at his side. I kept running that one finger over him. Up and down. Up and down. He squirmed under me. His hands fisted the sheets under him and his legs shook. I slapped his cock when he didn’t answer me. “Aren’t you baby?” He whined and keened.

“Yes, miss. So hard.”

“And who’s it for?”

“For you, miss. All for you.” He whimpered out. I smirked again and wrapped my hand around him, lifting his cock off his stomach and moving it back and forth.

“Such a cute cock,” I said. I reached out and licked the tip lightly, just barely letting my tongue stroke over it. “And it’s all mine.”

Spencer whined, shaking his head back and forth. “Please, miss.”

“You’ve only made me cum two times, baby.” I reminded him. His eyes squeezed shut as I slowly dragged my hand up over his cock, then back down again. I let my thumb circle the tip of it on every up stroke. “Look at me.” I demanded. His eyes flashed open and made eye contact with me, tongue coming out to wet his lips.

“You’re mine, Spencer Reid.” I taunted. Without warning, I took him deep in my mouth, keeping our eye contact. His mouth fell open in a moan, eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them open. I sucked him long and hard, swirling my tongue around him and bringing him closer and closer to an edge. I pulled off for a split second, warning him, “You better tell me if you get close.”

From there, I focused on bringing him as close to the edge as possible. Using my hands and my mouth I brought him closer and closer, watching him clench the sheets and shake his head back and forth.

“Please, please miss. Please let me cum.” He begged, and I reveled in it. I groaned around him and took him all the way down my throat, gagging slightly. He moaned above me, and I just kept going. “Miss....please.” He whined loudly. I took him down until my nose pressed into his stomach. “Oh-oh! Close, miss close!” He whimpered. I immediately pulled off of him and let his cock drop back down onto his stomach with no contact at all. His whole body shook underneath me in frustration, but he knew better than to act out. I felt my heart swell with pride as I watched Spencer take whatever I gave him without complaint.

“Now.... I feel like you might need some help not to cum.” I said. His eyes locked on mine and I smirked. He knew what was sitting on the dresser, he just didn’t know what exactly I planned to do with it.

“I-I do. I need help, miss.” He said, nodding. Spencer’s hair was fanned out under him, he looked ethereal. I sat there for a moment, just looking at him. Admiring my boy. I climbed off of him and grabbed the cock ring from the dresser.

When I crawled back over him, I pushed his legs apart, settling between them. His knees bent and his feet flat on the bed, his cock an angry red between them. I smiled at him as he eyed the ring in my hand.

“Green, baby?”

“Green, miss.” He confirmed. I leaned over and fastened the cock ring around him, making his cock flush even darker.

“You’ve got one more to do, baby. And then I’m gonna fuck you till you cum.” I said with a smirk. He gasped at that. I didn’t peg him often, but he loved it when I did. It was for special occasions. I knew we both needed it tonight. But first, my last orgasm.

I climbed over his spread legs and let my wet pussy glide over his cock that was resting on his belly. I ground down onto him and he groaned.

“Do you want to feel me, baby?” I asked. He moaned out but didn’t answer. I gripped his cheeks tightly in my hand, and he immediately started answering.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, miss. Yes, please, miss.” He mumbled while his lips were pressed together. I rubbed myself over him once again and he groaned loudly. “Please, please, please.” He repeated over and over. I let myself grind on him for a moment longer, before sitting up on my knees and reaching behind me. I angled his cock, pulled my panties to the side, and slid down, taking all of him in slowly. He took deep breaths, trying to resist the urge to fuck up into me. I wiggled my ass as it met his hips, giving myself time to adjust to his length inside of me.

Then I raised myself up so just the head was inside of me. I leaned down and pressed my face into his neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Fuck me, baby.” I whispered directly in his ear. His hips snapped up as soon as he had permission. I let out a long moan as he fucked up into me.

“Permission to touch, Miss, please?” He begged, his hands still curled into the sheets. I looked down to where we were connected, sure my face looked entirely blissed out.

“Yes, baby. Touch me.”

His hands flew to my hips, slamming me down onto him to meet his thrusts. My lips found his neck and started sucking as I rocked with his thrusts. He moaned at the feeling. I knew it would leave a mark but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Moving down to his collarbone, I rolled my hips so my ass met his hips on each thrust. I let out moans into his ear, which made him grip me tighter and fuck me harder. He was everywhere. His hands on me, his cock in me, his mouth seeking mine. I found it and our tongues moulded together.

“Close, miss.” He whispered. I pulled up and off of him in one fell swoop. His hands lingered on my ass as he groaned and threw his head back in frustration. I laughed as he struggled, sitting back so that his dick ran through the crest of my ass.

“Poor, baby. Close with the cock ring on? You must be really desperate.” I teased, wiggling my ass against his cock. He whined.

“You have one more chance. You can fuck me one more time and you better get me off before you’re close.” I reached back and realigned him, sinking down faster this time. He thrusted up into me and one of his hands came around to rub at my clit. His thumb drew fast circles around it. I threw my head back and sat up, his cock reaching deeper into me in the new position, and I started really riding him.

“Baby, yes, just like that.” His thumb sped up, and he thrusted harder. I fell back down against his chest, and his lips found my neck. He sucked a mark there. I groaned and then pulled away, propping myself up on one hand. I looked down between our bodies, watching as we joined together over and over again. I felt my third orgasm starting, and I rode him through it as I moaned down at him. He kept his eyes on mine the entire time.

I sat down on his cock when I was done, taking deep, heaving breaths. He wiggled under me, not able to thrust up with my full weight holding him down. The cock ring under me reminded me of his predicament and I smiled, wiggling around to tease him just a little more.

“Are you ready for your reward?” I asked. pulling off of him completely and getting off the bed.

“Yes, miss. Oh, please.” He begged. I grabbed the strap-on from the dresser and pulled it on myself. Then I grabbed the lube and made my way back to the bed.

He eyed my cock, tilting his head up to see which one I had chosen. I had our smallest one, not wanting to need to spend too much time on prep. My boy had waited long enough. He smiled and leaned back. I climbed onto the bed between his legs.

I lubed up my fingers and ran them over his hole lightly. He shivered, but ultimately relaxed as I did it. One finger pressed in slowly, his body tight and hot around me. He moaned out and pushed back against it. The cock ring stayed in place, as I didn’t want him to cum too early. I pulled out the one finger and went back in with two. He groaned again, head rolling against the pillow. I fucked him with my two fingers, spreading them and curling them until I found the spot that made him cry out.

“There! Oh, miss.” He groaned. I smirked up at him and kept my two fingers right there, rubbing in small circles. While he was distracted by that pleasure, I added a third finger. He moaned and thrashed, his arms spreading out and pulling at the sheets.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yes! I like it so much, fuck, miss I-” He cut off in a broken whine as I slipped my fingers out of him.

“Shhh, don’t complain. I’m just getting to the main event.” I smirked, lubing up my cock. I licked my lips as he gazed down to watch, and put on a good show for him. A whine came from deep in his throat, clearly out of his control. I smiled and right before lining up, removed the cock ring. He groaned loudly at the release. Immediately, I thrust into him, and his back arched off the bed. with a harsh gasp.

“Oh, fuck miss.” He said as he settled down. I set up a quick pace, thrusting into him hard and fast. His ass pushed back to meet my thrusts.

“You like this, don’t you baby? You love getting your pretty little ass fucked?” I taunted, slowing my thrusts down so I could watch each time my cock hit his prostate. His face transformed with every thrust, slowly building in intensity. He didn’t answer my question.

I moved my hand to grip his face, “I said, do you love getting your pretty little ass fucked?” I said harshly, thrusting in deep and staying there. He whined, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Yes, miss.” He said. I slapped him quickly on the cheek.

“Say it.” I hissed. My eyes never left his as he looked up to me and whined out-

“I love getting my pretty little ass fucked.”

“That’s it, baby.” I praised and he keened. I sped up my thrusts again, and reached down and gripped his cock. “You can touch me. And you can cum whenever you’re ready.”

His hands went to my breasts and groped at them, pinching and twisting my nipples, which made me moan. I kept thrusting and stroking him as his hands traveled my body, eventually landing on my ass and pulling me into him harder. His face scrunched up and his stomach quivered, and I watched him fly over the edge with a shout. His cum spurted up to his neck, strings dripped all over his stomach. I kept thrusting and stroking him all the way through it, until he was whimpering from the overstimulation.

A thought entered my head, but I knew it was for a different scene, a different time.

When I knew he had come down enough, I pulled out and removed the strap-on. I climbed off the bed quickly and grabbed a damp washcloth, returning to find Spencer curled into a ball on his side. I rolled him back onto his back and wiped him down. He let out a small whine when it brushed over his sensitive cock. Then I sat him up and forced him to drink the water I had sent out before the scene started.

He drank it slowly and I held onto him, letting him rest his back against my chest as I stroked his hair, murmuring “My good boy, such a good boy,” into his ear until he looked up at me with clear, but tired eyes.

“Thank you, [y/n].” He said, and I smiled.

“You never have to thank me, Spencer. Thank you.” I said back. He smiled up at me and pursed his lips, asking for a kiss. I let a hand fall over his cheek and pulled him up to me, kissing him deeply.

“Talk in the morning?” He asked. We always debriefed about a scene the morning after. What worked, what didn’t. Things that were affecting our lives, inside and outside the bedroom. It helped keep things safe for both of us.

“Of course.” I answered.

He placed his water down on the nightstand and then kissed me one last time before settling in my arms to go to sleep. He fell asleep while I was stroking his hair, and I followed not long after him.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #sub spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #my fic #denied #mine #tp

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awhitehead17 · 3 years

Text

Batfam Alphabet: F - Fear Toxin

Summary: When Tim gets injected with a new variant of Scarecrow’s fear toxin, all Jason could do is hold the kid in his arms to stop him from getting injured further as he waits for back up to arrive.

A/N: As a warning violence happens, nothing too graphic but here’s a warning just in case!

Enjoy! :D

Jason pauses when his fingers grasp nothing but empty air. Snapping his gaze down, he frowns when he finds his pocket completely empty. He sighs and curses. This is just what he needs, he’s ran out of antidotes.

He looks up across the street to find Tim administering an antidote into another cowering civilian caught in the crossfire of Gotham’s latest villain scheme. Jason jogs over to his brother and glances at him through his helmet. “You got any more? I’m out.”

Tim shakes his head regretfully. “No. That was my last one. We really underestimated how far Scarecrow’s toxin got this time. We don’t have enough.”

Jason hums in agreement and observes their surroundings. They’re together in a back alley of Gotham’s streets, one that had been hit badly by Scarecrow’s latest fear toxin. They had the task of vaccinating all the civilians around with the new antidote. Back in the cave they calculated an estimate number of many people populated the area and had prepared more than enough between them, or so they thought, unfortunately their numbers were far from right leaving them with not nearly enough antidotes.

Around them now, many civilians are still under the hallucinations of the toxin, some are screaming, crying or even violently yelling at empty air. Jason swears again, this is not how the night was supposed to go.

He’s brought out of his thoughts when Tim turns to him. “We’re going to need to go back and restock. We’re not much use otherwise.”

“Agreed.”

He wonders if the others are having similar issues with numbers and the lack of antidotes. The team’s spread out around Gotham’s most targeted areas, all of them working in pairs for safety and everyone working their asses off to help people in the city.

Wordlessly the two of them head for their hidden vehicles in a neighbouring alley. As they prepare to climb onto their bikes Tim glances his way to say something but ends up yelling in alarm instead. “Hood watch out!”

It’s thanks to Jason’s reflexes that he’s able to duck underneath the swinging arm in time to avoid being hit. He brings his gun out and turns to face his attacker. His attacker is probably middle aged man, a little on the heavy side and he’s wearing a shitty Halloween mask to hide his face. Jason dodges another swing and returns the favour, he takes him out in three quick and precise strikes with his hands.

A loud grunt gets his attention and Jason spins around to find Tim caught in a head lock with a gun pressed against his temple. Tim’s attacker is too wearing a mask as were the four others who now surround them. Where they came from Jason has no idea. How the hell did they miss these guys who had obviously been waiting and hiding for them to return to their bikes?

As Jason levels his gun at Tim’s attacker the four others surrounding him also raise their guns pointing them in his direction, this concludes them all into a standoff.

Tim’s attacker speaks up first. “Put that gun down or I blow his brains out.”

Behind his mask Jason rolls his eyes. How fucking cliché? He keeps his gun up though, pointing at the man and in a cocky statement he takes the safety off with an audible click. The man holding Tim snorts as he had been expecting Jason’s disobedience.

“Very well. I’ll show you how this is going to go. You get one warning and mate, you’ve just used that warning.”

He kicks Tim’s legs out from underneath him and lets him go, unexpecting the abrupt movement Tim crashes to the floor. Once he’s sprawled out on the ground the attacker stamps on one of Tim’s hands, causing a rather loud and sickening crack to ring out. Jason winces as Tim yells in pain but before anyone could react further the same man manhandles Tim to his knees and resumes their previous position.

He cocks the gun and presses it to Tim’s head. “Now, if either of you act up, you’re gonna get a hurt whole lot worse than a broken hand. Now follow us. No funny business! Get his gun!”

One of the men come and wrench Jason’s gun out of his hand and all Jason could do was let him. He doesn’t want to risk Tim any more than he has to.

He and Tim are marched out of the alley and into another before being directed into an abandoned building. They’re walked into the middle of the room and forced down to their knees, once on the ground a couple of the thugs come over to grab their hands and tie them behind their backs. Jason grits his teeth and refrains from doing something like headbutting the asshole, while next to him Tim lets out a pained grunt as his broken hand is jostled.

When they step away Jason twists his body awkwardly to get a look at his restrained wrists to find them tied with cable ties. Jason huffs in disbelief. His attention is soon brought back to the room when one of the attackers speak up.

“Boss we got’em just like you asked.”

Jason straightens up when a new figure walks into the room only to grit his teeth seconds later when Scarecrow is revealed. The bastard doesn’t stop moving until he’s looming over them. Unable to help himself Jason speaks up, sarcasm heavily laced in his tone. “Same shit different day Crane. Why don’t you go and get yourself a new hobby, go for something like knitting perhaps.”

Crane turns his head towards Jason, his expression hidden by that stupid potato sack over his head. “You would like that wouldn’t you? If I were gone there would be nothing to fear. Perhaps that clown but nothing else.”

“Sorry to break it to you but you ain’t that scary.” Jason quips, glaring through his helmet.

“Maybe not right now but with a little help, I will be, I’ll become your greatest nightmare.” Crane reaches behind him and pulls out a box, he makes a show of opening it up and producing a syringe filled with a clear liquid. “A person can learn to control themselves when feeling great emotion, sadness, happiness, anger, but never in times of fear. Fear is the minds greatest enemy and that’s why it’s so powerful, why even the greatest of men fall.”

Jason watches as Crane drifts over to stand in front of Tim, his brother simply looks up with a hard and determined expression not saying anything. Crane fiddles with the syringe in his hands, studying Tim as he does.

“It won’t work. We’re not stupid Crane.” Jason says feeling dread build up inside of him. He knows what’s about to happen and he has feeling he knows exactly what Crane’s response is going to be.

“I know. That’s why I’m sure you’ve worked out that this is a different toxin I’ve produced to the one I’ve already distributed. One of which you don’t have an antidote for.”

For the first time Tim speaks up, snarling at the man in front of him. “Go to hell Crane.” Scarecrow doesn’t answer Tim, instead he reaches down and grabs a fist full of Tim’s hair and yanks his head back to expose his neck.

From his position Jason lurches at the movement, ready to pounce but it stopped when the thugs immediately zone in on him. Guns point at him and at Tim, simply daring him to make another move. Uselessly he settles back down on the ground.

Crane jabs the syringe into the kid’s neck and injects the liquid into Tim’s body. Once it’s empty he steps away, pushing Tim down to the ground as he does. Jason is torn between worriedly watching Tim’s unmoving form on the ground and Crane’s retreating figure from the room.

One of the thugs speak up. “Uh boss now what? We not killing the big one?”

“No.” Crane says firmly. “He has a choice to make, come after me and leave the other to suffer or help him and let me go.”

“You bastard!” Jason yells as Crane exits the room, disappearing from his sight. “You’ll be sorry you’ve left me alive! I will kill your ass when I next see it.”

Jason snaps his attention to Tim who is now whimpering on the floor. He needs to get help, he needs to get Tim to the cave so they can start working on a new antidote to whatever the hell Crane just injected him with.

With some difficulty, Jason twists and wiggles around so he can move to get his restrained hands in front of him. Using a move Dick once showed him, Jason tucks up tightly loops his arms underneath his body so they go underneath him and end up in front of him. It tests his flexibility for sure but it works.

Once his arms are in front of him he reaches up and presses the comms, getting Barbara’s help.

“O! I need immediate assistance!”

“Hood what’s going on, why did you and Red Robin go radio silent-”

Not having the patience Jason cuts her off. “Now’s not the time! We ran into Scarecrow and he injected Red with a new toxin. We need to get him to the cave asap.”

“Shit. I’m alerting the others now and sending them your location. Do what you can to help Red.”

“Already on it.”

Jason signs off and moves to break the cable ties around his wrists. He tightens them up as much as possible, raises his hands over his head and brings his fists down to his stomach in one fluid movement. Upon impact the ties break and his heads are freed.

Not wasting a second he scrambles over to Tim who is now starting to wither on the floor, whimpering pitiful sounds. Knowing there’s not much he can do, Jason decides to break the ties from Tim's own wrists, he’s aware of Tim’s broken hand but that’ll have to be dealt with later on.

At least that was his plan up until he puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder. As soon as Jason touches him, the kid freaks out. He lets out a scream of terror and suddenly jerks up right and starts to scramble away from him. Jason freezes in shock as he watches Tim try and move away from him, but the kid’s movements were hindered by his hands being tied behind him.

“No no no no. I’m sorry. Please I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. No no no. It won’t happen again I promise.”

The words were quiet and raspy but Jason could hear them clearly in the silence of the room. He needs to stop Tim from moving and also to prevent further damage to his hands. He cautiously approaches Tim again, crouching down low and taking slow steps forward, but at the moment Tim only sees him as a threat. The kid screams and continues to try and scramble backwards away from him.

“No no no! I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me…”

Jason frowns at the words as his heart lurches inside of his chest at the sound of Tim’s pleading voice. When he takes another step forward Tim only screams again, making Jason freeze on the spot. He really ought to get Tim to stop moving, Jason doesn’t particularly want to use force to get him to restrain his movements but he doesn’t think he has any choice.

Sighing Jason takes off his helmet, something he admittedly probably should have done before now, and approaches Tim again. As expected the kid screams and begs as he tries to shuffle away, his legs kicks out and his body contorts uncomfortably.

Pretty much out of options Jason lunges for Tim. He grabs the kid’s ankle to stop him from getting any further away before diving onto the floor and situating himself behind Tim. He wraps his legs around Tim’s thighs and knees, pinning them in place and he wraps his arms around Tim’s torso and shoulders. He holds on tightly as Tim tries and fails to buck out of his grasp.

While the kid screams in his arms all Jason could do is hold him and wait until backup comes. He counts the never ending minutes as they tick by. His brother is weakly fighting his hold while tears stream down his cheeks as he whimpers out pleas, it breaks Jason’s heart to hear it all.

Thankfully the cavalry soon arrive, they burst into the room and take in the scene before them. Both Dick and Bruce rush towards them and immediately start making plans.

“How long ago was he injected?” Bruce demands as he grasps Tim’s chin. Tim tries to get out of it but Bruce holds firm as he removes the kid’s mask and studies his dilated pupils.

“Twenty maybe thirty minutes. Right before O contacted you. Crane got away.” Jason reports automatically. He’s furious about Crane of course but family comes first, he couldn’t have left Tim alone in this state.

“Hold him still.” Bruce grunts as he digs through his utility belt. After a moment he produces a small blood sample kit. With quick efficiency Bruce takes a vial of Tim’s blood, caps it off and holds it out to Nightwing who had been hovering on the side but not getting in the way. Dick takes it without words. “Get a head start to the cave, Agent A is preparing to start a new antidote trial.”

Dick nods, his gaze lingers on Tim before his head tilts in Jason’s direction. “Keep me updated.” He disappears before Jason could respond. When Dick is out of sight his attention is drawn back to Tim and Bruce.

“We need to get him to the car and then to the cave. You’ll need to keep him restrained so he doesn’t hurt himself.”

If the situation were different Jason would both be peeved and even upset at the detachment in Bruce’s tone of voice. Unfortunately in this situation he can understand why Bruce is like it, not being emotionally invested will allow him to focus on the task at hand, which in this case happened to be getting Tim back to the cave and working on a new antidote. He’ll let himself feel everything once he knows Tim is safe and sound.

Together he and Bruce manage to get Tim into the batmobile. The kid does nothing other than scream, whimper, plead and cry as they move him. Jason makes sure to tell Bruce about his hand and once in the car Bruce relays the injury to Alfred in the cave. Once they’ve worked out the antidote they can work on his hand.

Getting back to the cave seems long and tedious but once they’re there they move Tim from the car and into the medical bay. They settle him down on one of the cots, having to restrain his wrists and ankles to the bed to stop him moving so much and Alfred updates them on the situation with the antidote.

They were fortunate enough to be able to come up with a temporary antidote in that short amount of time. It turns out Scarecrow hadn’t used a new toxin but rather the same one as before, the only difference in this one is that there are hints of Poison Ivy’s hallucinogen concoction. Dick and Alfred quickly worked together to combine the two antidotes making a new one altogether.

Without much hesitation they give Tim the new antidote and watch as the kid quietens down on the bed and falls unconscious. It’s only after Alfred deems everything is okay that they all can breathe somewhat easily again.

While Dick, Bruce, Jason and Barbara (over the comms) discuss the next steps and about what the current situation is looking like, Alfred stays with Tim and patches up his hand, fixing a cast over the skin and bone until they can get it looked at professionally.

As plans are being made Jason watches Alfred work, his worry for Tim still heavily stirring inside of him. He doesn’t think he’ll be forgetting those petrified screams any time soon. Once the kid wakes up Jason is going to have a long chat with Tim, one to rest his own subconscious and secondly because he wants to make sure the kid is mentally okay after the ordeal. He’ll make sure Tim gets some proper r&r after all of this and maybe even for himself too once Crane is dealt with.

#batfam alphabet #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #fear toxin #bit of violence #big brother jason #injured tim #light hurt and comfort #batfamily #Alfred Pennyworth #Scarecrow #bat bros #fanfiction

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lil-blueee · 3 years

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Redamancy | Takashi Mitsuya x Reader (Tokyo Revengers)

Redamancy (n.): The act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

Treasure the time you spend together,

Treasure the ride in the evening time,

Treasure the confession under the night sky.

May you all feel the love and fall in love!

____________________

It is now eventide, the moment when the Sun deliberately goes down, exuding its vibrant red and orange rays that tints the former azure firmament. And here you are, resting on the leather chesterfield sofa while gazing at those skylights above. Broken lines of cumulus, or cotton-like clouds, are stretching for miles in the air, reflecting those fiery shades that intensifies the whole scene's saturation.

"Beautiful." You mumble, eyes lingering at that exquisite sight.

It doesn't take that long for a pitch black color to invade the sky, noticing that dusk is coming to your city. You raise up both arms to stretch that stiff upper body before a small growl grabs your attention. Looking at the clock, it's a quarter past six already.

"Guess he'll come back late tonight. I've to eat alone then."

You place your right hand on your stomach to feel that small rumbling sound - a signal for dinner time. The corners of your lips pull down to reveal a sad but so-be-it face. "Well, time to eat." You reheat the bento box in the microwave and prepare a glass of water before bringing them both to the table. Hands clasp together, you mumble, "Itadakimasu."

After finishing your meal, you sip a cup of warm tea while walking towards the bust mannequin, where the sleeveless white bridal gown is put on. Four different length of layers were sew from the waist line, covering half of the chapel train - the last and longest layer of the dress. To break free from the usual, monotonous gown, that man thoroughly embroidered roses on the left lateral, artfully arranged those small flowers from the shoulder to the side of the waist, and bigger ones when reaching the end of the train.

There's only one more piece left to complete the dress, a wedding veil. And it's also the final task for you - the girl making a messy bun for her wavy silver hair with apparent black highlights. Heading to the table where the folded tulle fabric is laying, you put the tea cup down, left hand slowly grabs your pair of black eyeglasses beside it. Eyes giving a quick glance at those thin lines drawn by tailor's chalk, you take one deep breath, ignoring some strains of hair falling down on the side and hold the sharp piece of scissors. After all, this dress is made for Hinata Tachibana, one of your best friends. I can't screw it.

You slowly cut off the excess length of the tulle until those metal blades return to their starting point, making the cabbage falls down the ground. Your other hand holds the outside edge of the fabric to trim its corners slightly, adding the curve for a graceful look. "Now then," A delighted smile appears on your face. Your sparkling gaze is looking through the edge of the veil again to see any jagged or uneven fabric needs cutting.

Immersing yourself in your work, you don't even recognize the presence of another man at the entrance, crossing his arms on one another. His head leans against the door frame, looking at you with those adoring droopy lavender eyes. "Quite meticulous, aren't you?" The lilac-haired mumbles, giving his compliment before he turns around and walks along the hall.

After that final touch, you sigh in relief, gently using your left hand surface to mop the sweat from your brow. "All we need to do is sew it. I should wait for Taka—" You startle. Whatever touches against your cheek literally makes your heart jump because of the cold sensation.

"What in the—" Like a natural reflex, you turn your head around to search for the source, but that sixth sense of yours can somehow guess the person standing behind this.

"You call for me?" He asks in a soft tone voice. In front of you right now is Takashi Mitsuya, a gentleman in his dark grey suit layered with a black shin length trench coat, projecting his professional image which instantly forms the first impression to anyone he meets. Hand passes you a bottle of water, the lilac-haired chuckles at the face he saw.

You keep staring at him, your eyebrows pull closer together while your lips tighten, making an angry but quite adorable face in his opinion. As you're about to give him a piece of your mind, his genuine smile immediately blows your anger away. That gentleman appearance, combining with his somewhat irresistible face are like a deadly combo suppressing your anger. How can I get mad like this? Placing your palm on the forehead, you ask yourself before telling him,

"You can just give it normal—"

Hold up! You pause when a thought runs through your mind and interrupts your speech. An idea? No, more like a revenge! Lower your face while smirking devilishly, one side of his slit eyebrow lifts up as he wonders what has got into you until...

"Actually, thank you very much, Takashi."

Calling for his name in a mischievous voice, you raise your slender hand not to take that bottle but to gently grab the other big, masculine one. Eyes lock with the others droopy lavender, you smile innocently as a way to express your affection toward him.

It doesn't take that long for the Second Division Captain to realize your intention. Instead of questioning about your rapid change in behavior, the lilac-haired decides to go along with your act. [First name]-chan, you're no match for me. His surprised face soon reveals a smirk, taking his time to respond you.

"My my~ you really mean it, [First name]?" said Mitsuya in a low tone voice.

He takes a few steps toward while you're doing the opposite, walking backward till your body hits the table without noticing. You startle but your attention is still drawn to his hand pulling the tie knot side to side to loosen that black plain necktie. This soon piques your curiosity. Is it because of the heat or he's doing it on purpose? However, judging the look on his face, you have every reason to eliminate the former assumption. Actually, no one will argue once they meet his sharp, yet flirtatious glance trying to lure you in his sweet trap. The gap is now shortened to only a few centimeters apart, Mitsuya rests both of his hands on the table to trap you inside then leans his lips closer to your reddened ear.

"Or you're asking for something else?" He whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

A flush of excitement is rising to your cheek, but you - my friend, show no signal of being dominated. In spite of the wild beating heart in your chest, you naturally grabs his tie and pulls it closer, looking straight into that man's eyes. "Make a guess."

Now you've done it. That confident expression of yours finally pulls the trigger for a massive explosion in his heart. It's not really something unexpected, but the Captain can't help himself whenever he sees you like this. The lilac-haired signs, looking down the ground to hide his defeated face. But, things won't end that easy.

"Alright, you said it. But," Unveiling a devilish smirk, his left hand wraps around your waist and gives a sudden pull, making your eyes widen from his unexpected move, "don't mad at me afterward."

The other hand is gently placing on your cheek before his thumb touches your lips. He's not gonna... There are butterflies in your stomach as you realize his intention, but sadly, it's too late to escape by now. Feeling his head is leaning closer, you place both hands on his chest to try and stop him though his body doesn't move a single bit. Hold up, hold up, hold up!!! Too close!

"Takashi, wait—" Your eyes shut immediately, knowing what he's about to do.

Mitsuya pauses when his lips are only a few centimeters away. That man is taking a glance at your heavily blushing face and secretly smiling to see this shy and nervous side of yours. Oh my, now I'm the meanie. He signs. Well then...

Soft. Something touches the tip your nose - a light kiss, as light as a feather. As your mind is still trying to comprehend the whole thing, his giggle soon gets you back to your senses.

"I'm just joking! You don't have to worry!" You open your eyes and freeze like a statue. Noticing how tense up you are, his hand gently caresses your cheek where the heat is still lingering around. "Did I scare you, [First name]-chan?"

You know the answer, don't you? Well, he did surprise you in a way but... why not let him guess a little longer? "Who would?" You mumble.

"Really? Shall we try again the—"

Like an instinct, your palm covers his lower face as you know he won't leave you time to answer.

"Not so fast. I won't be tricked again." You smile cheerfully because this time for sure, victory is in your hand. However, life rarely happens according to your plans, and especially when you are with him.

His gaze sharpens and that makes you think twice about your action. Just when you're about to let your hand down, the lavender-eyed holds it in position and gives your palm a kiss. You raise your eyebrows and are completely shocked at his gesture. Mitsuya gently places your hand in his palm, bowing down like a gentleman greets a lady before his lips touch your knuckles. This greeting gesture, hand-kissing, normally indicates courtesy and politeness but not in this case scenario.

"Are you sure about that, my Muse?" He asks with a mischievous smile.

And the Cupid - the god of love in the Ancient Roman, shots his arrow right through your heart, again. Love and passion are spreading out from your wound, making you fall for this man for... how many times you have lost count to be honest. The only difference is that you sink deeper and deeper every time the Cupid has his decision.

"So now you're into role play just simply because of the suit? And what Muse would wear a white tube top with grey sweatpants like me?" You chortle.

"Well, doing it once in a while isn't so bad though." He answers. "And you're always beautiful no matter what you wear."

That makes your heart skip a beat. He always says what in his mind, even if you're ready for it or not. "You sure are good with words." Whispering softly, you don't know what to do but to smile happily like a child.

"Anyway, how was the meeting with your customers?" You ask.

"The good news is we have a big order coming up. It's for their wedding and they chose the design already. One mermaid wedding dress and a tuxedo. We have to make five dresses for the bridesmaids too, so it's gonna be a busy week."

"Oh no, it's not that much... Lemme fainted a little." Without waiting him to respond, you let your head fall down on his shoulder, creating a big "thump" sound in the ears. The Captain is trying hard not to laugh by now. He gently pats that heavy head of yours.

"But still, I'll try my best to help. Can't let my beloved handle everything, right?" There you go, being mischievous again.

Wish you could see his face at that time. It was the most happiest face in the world. He wraps you in his arms for a full, warm embrace. "And I don't want my Muse to be exhausted too."

"But we'll put that aside for now. Wanna go for a ride? It must be bored to spend your whole day in the workshop."

Your eyes wide open to hear his suggestion. How long has it been since the last ride you guys had with each other? You're obviously happy to hear that but you're quite concerned about his health. "Maybe you should rest for today, you must be tired already."

"It's okay. I need to refresh my mind a bit. Lemme get change real quick." He gives you a light pat on your head.

Standing in front of the garage, you're gazing at Mitsuya, who is wearing an energetic set of cloth, opposite to the formal style earlier. He layers his white tee with a loose black baseball jacket with cream leather sleeves. This jacket was you two first couple cloth, and it was made by you-know-who. For the bottom, he puts on grey sweatpants and a pair of sneakers.

Your man is taking his baby Impulse out. The lavender-eyed is looking for something, your helmet. He slowly puts it on for you to ensure your safety while you sit behind him.

"Hold on tight." No matter how many times he has taken you out, that sentence always comes up first like a habit. Yes, you understand clearly that he cares about you, but seeing him like this somehow makes you want to tease him.

"Come on! It's not like my first time letting my boyfriend take me for a ride~" Leaning your body closer to his back, you slowly give that muscular body a hug from behind. The lilac-haired sighs, lowers his head before turning around.

"And it's not like my first time saying this to my girlfriend." He responds while gives you a light flick on your forehead. "I just want to make sure you'll feel safe."

You release your hands to touch the spot where he aimed. Knitting your eyebrows, you ask. "Alright, but do you have to give me a flick?"

"Cause I feel like it." Now your nose is being pinched. Right after when you try to react, Mitsuya grabs your hands and puts them around his waist again. "Alright, no more teasing. We'll be back late if we don't leave now."

You actively tighten your arms so that someone won't give a long lecture again. "Fine, baka Taka."

"That's my girl." Closing his eyes, those lips reveal a winsome smile before his black full face helmet covers it. Once everything is set, he starts the engine and drive you both to the main road.

Resting your head on his firm back, your eyes slowly observe the night life in the city, looking at those cars running on the road and how people spend the rest of their night. Every time the winds blow through your hair, they always give a sense of relaxation, relieving all the stress you have during those working hours.

You breathe out bit by bit, tighten your embrace without noticing, which is a good sign for the person sitting in front of you. Glad she's enjoying this. The lilac-haired chuckles in secret, feels glad at your reaction.

Fifteen minutes have passed by, you two leave the city center, driving on a deserted road that leads to an abandon outdoor parking space overlooking the city's view. This is his go-to place whenever he seeks for the tranquility and now, it's yours too. Mitsuya drives right to the spot where you can observe the mesmerizing scene below and parks his Impulse.

Arms in the air, you stand up and stretch your back after spending nearly the whole day in his workshop, helping him to finish the wedding dress on time. Turn your head around to look at the man sitting side saddle, you ask. "Just three days left. We'll finish Hina-chan dress before it, right?"

"Yeah, I only need to sew the veil and adjust the length of the dress a bit." Mitsuya responds before gazing at you with a delighted face. "It all thanks to your help! Your skills have improved a lot after two months."

"Really? Guess I have to thank someone being patient while teaching me too~" Your mind then recalls how many times he sighed and flicked your forehead when you messed up during your practice. Despite of that, your caring teacher always there to explain and demonstrate again and again. Also, you can't forget the times you injured yourself because of your clumsiness, and he was always there to help you. Those are the memories that you're always cherish.

"I'll still be in your care, Sensei~" You giggle.

Sitting beside the man you love, you lean your head on his shoulder while getting lost in thought. 12 years huh... They finally make it. The fact that Hanagaki could travel back in time is always unbelievable because to you, it's something that only appears in sci-fi movies. You're really grateful that he tries to save everyone even if he has to risk his life. Not knowing what the future may hold, every moment staying with Mitsuya just becomes precious and you truly appreciate it.

Hina-chan finally escapes from the Death, now they're about to engage. "I'm glad for them."

Hearing your mumble, his left arm, which wrapped around your waist, moves its way up to pat your head. Those fingers that he uses to design beautiful clothes are now gently stroking your hair.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks out of curiosity.

"I was thinking..." After a few seconds of consideration, you say something out of the blue "when will I become a bride?"

From your unexpected answer, Mitsuya completely freezes. His astonished face with raised eyebrows and wide-opened lavender eyes is fully drawn to you. Looks like someone's heart just skips a beat. You really are...

Not seeing the Captain react, you ask him with concern. "Taka— Wh—what???"

As you're about to lift your head up, his hand quickly covers your eyes, pressing it down to the old position. You're wondering what the heck is going, not knowing Mitsuya is facing the other direction, hands cover his face. He's making time for the blush to fade away but it's impossible when you're struggling like this.

"Stay still for awhile, will you?" A long sigh escapes from his lips when you're trying to pull his hand off.

After realizing how physically strong he is, you finally surrender. "Fine, I give up."

The atmosphere go into silent, no one has opened up first because you're waiting for him, and your boyfriend? He's still trying to calm himself down. Once Mitsuya gets back to his cool, usual shelf, he removes his hand to reveal your sound sleeping face.

"[First name]-chan?" He whispers.

Oh... She must be exhausted. Caressing your cheek before moving to your ear, his mind suddenly recalls your words. The Captain tries to move his other hand without waking you up, manages to take something out of his pocket. He then remains silent, eyes are focusing that small box lying in the palm of his right hand. "A bride, you said..."

His thumb opens the box, staring at the thing placing in the middle. For some reasons, your man hesitates before taking out the circle object, raising it up to the night sky and gazing deeply.

"You should fall for someone else." He mumbles.

"That's what I said when you confessed your feelings. But you, you still stay around after everything we went through, after knowing my background." Mitsuya pinches your cheek lightly because he doesn't want to interrupt your sleep.

"How stubborn you are."

You can feel something touch your face but only make an annoyed expression like a reflex.

"You always talk to me, run toward me whenever I'm around, and even learn how to sew. And just like that, I get familiar with your presence in my life."

"I used to think if you were in love with someone else, I would be rooting for you and make sure you find a good guy. But right now, I don't think I can let you go—— No, more like I won't let you go this time."

His hand puts something on your right ear. It's his other signature piercing - a black huggie earring with silver crosses.

"One for me, one for my most important person. Hope you won't laugh at my childish thought, I was young and bold." He chuckles at his own thought.

"I'm not ready to be your spouse yet, not when I'm still struggling with financial issues. I don't want my love to struggle it with me."

"Just a little more, will you wait for me, [First name]-chan?"

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #fanfic #tokrev mitsuya #mitsuya x you

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closer-stars · 3 years

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Gut Feeling (9)

Member: San Genre: Fluff, Comfort Word Count: 9k Requested: Yes Content: the stuff people have been waiting for. food. boys being boys (affectionate). life being a butt. relationships are tricky. the turns have tabled. just stuff i owe you all after the pain that is called Slow Burn Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. A lot happened in between (covid scare at home if anything) in my life ahah. :( . writer’s block. trying to tie some loose strings while having something to close off for the last chapter. we’re nearly done! Proof read!. (also ehe, look forward to another fic i’ve been making maybe? ; w;)

Network: @ateezlovenet

Tag list: @barsformars @yeotlny @seoultraveller @shinyddeonghwa @frankenstein852 @miniyeo @hwaberrykiwi @jeongyunhoed

Part 8

Blood runs loudly in his ears that for a brief moment he thought he was hearing things.

“Can we take it slow?” It’s not really a question for you but somehow you managed to make it sound like such.

“Y-you’re really giving me a chance?” In his case, it really is a question phrased and sounding like such.

The way he looks, cheeks flushed in various warm shades, hands pinned under his thighs-- in all honesty, he looked like a nervous high school boy. It was adorable. “Why else would I ask if we can take it slow..” You point out gently, trying to chuckle a little lightly to gently rid the tension in the room.

Relationships have always been tricky.

Words stumble out of his mouth with the ease of a duckling who doesn’t know how to swim. “Yeah! I, uh, I mean, yeah, we can take it slow.” San can keep his composure together on the stage despite wardrobe malfunctions or falling microphone packs but put him face to face with someone who has his heart and he’s fumbling. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He confesses. He doesn’t want to commit the same mistake. Not again.

His words soften your features. You can’t blame him. The road the two of you walked on was a tricky one. You’re a little hopeful that this time it won’t be as troublesome as it was in the past. “I think,” you start. It’s easy to miss the hesitance the flashes behind his eyes. “I think, I trust you enough to know that you won’t hurt me intentionally.” You say carefully. There are things you’ve learned in your years without him that made you who you are, now you’re willing to learn a little more with him by your side.

His gaze on you is intense, studying your features closely as he hopes that you aren’t joking. It takes a moment for him to realize that you’re sincere. You’ve never joked about relationships with the members or with anyone. You’re taking the risk, what kind of sign was he looking for still? His lips curve upwards slowly, until his dimples show. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

It’s obvious how the weight on both your shoulders has been lifted at his answer. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of how happy he looks. The happy moment is cut by the growling of his stomach. Two pairs of eyes look at his stomach but only one pair of ears heat up upon realizing what had just happened. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” You say without missing a beat. “I’m not good like Wooyoung though when it comes to cooking meat.” You warn as you pull him up to bring with you to the kitchen.

“The food you cook in barbeque restaurants says otherwise though.” He points out, truthfully, he’s at the point of hunger where he’ll eat anything.

The face you make at his words makes him giggle. It was fun teasing you. “San, those meats were marinated in their sauces.. All I had to do was put it on some hot surface to make it edible.” As you go through your pantry, you ask him if he’s okay with seafood. Of course, this was met with enthusiasm.

That’s how the rest of the night goes, just San telling you how the commercial filming went. He recounts how tired he is of the drink he had to sip over the day-- not that he’ll ever get tired of the drink itself but just for today he didn’t want anything to do with it. Along with the usual discomforts of filming, he retells the antics the members do that haven’t changed over the years. It hasn’t quite set in yet that the two of you are now officially together, if anything, it still feels like the two of you are still just friends only with reciprocated feelings.

It’s not hard to notice how tired San feels now that he’s clean and full (in stomach and heart), that you can’t help the smile growing on your features as you watch him stifle a yawn. “Go get ready for bed, your mattress is already ready.” You say, shooing him to get his needed rest.

“No, I want to help clean.” He mumbles as he stands up, used utensils and dishes in hands. While you were packing away the leftovers, he already was one step ahead of you-- cleaning them already. He just knows where everything is by now. You also know how stubborn he is by now, so you let him. As thanks, you give him a quick hug. Just as you were about to pull away to let him finish, he makes an indignant sound. “Stay like this, please? I like your hugs.”

“As long as you wash them thoroughly.” You murmur.

---------

The two of you are on your own beds, until now San’s a little dismayed that Lily has to sleep in another room. It was to curb her neediness, you’ve told him in the past, but still. He didn’t mind having a little fur friend next to him while he sleeps. That is, if he could actually sleep.

It’s been an hour since his back hit the mattress to call it a day. To his right was you, sound asleep with half your face covered by the blanket. He was a little envious of how you could sleep without any sort of habit like him. Unfortunately for him, he forgot to bring something to hug to sleep so he’s left alone wide awake with his thoughts. The conversation replays in his mind, picturing how you looked at him, he wonders too how he looked earlier. This wasn’t a dream was it? He doesn’t know why he keeps doubting everything. A part of him thinks he doesn’t deserve this, knowing how he was in the past. Another part of him has to remind himself that he’s grown from it. Should he have stayed for the night? He really needs advice from his members right now. But if he didn’t stay for the night then the two of you wouldn’t have--

“Still awake?”

The soft voice startles him from his thoughts, his head whipping to the source. But, you look asleep so who’s speaking?

“Can’t sleep, huh? Did you forget to bring something to hug?” The voice was from you despite your closed eyes. He gazes at you in relief, thankful that he wasn’t being fooled by some supernatural being.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be able to sleep soon.” He tells you softly once he catches the rasp in your sleep ridden voice.

You raise your arm, inviting him over to your bed. “Come here. I know you by now.”

Even in the dark, his eyes widen at your invitation. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.” San returns, staring at your open arms before looking at your features, your eyes now open. Who knew they could sparkle even in the dark?

“I do. I also do know that you’re very cranky when you don’t get a minimum of three hours of decent sleep.” At your words, he checks the time, blinding himself at the sudden brightness of his phone. 4AM. He shifts carefully into your arms. Good god, you’re so warm and comfortable. It takes him a while to wrap his arms around you. By the time his body melts with yours, and how his arm sinks onto your side, you’ve already fallen asleep.

Sunlight hits your eyes and you try to cover your eyes from the disruption, only to gently hit your forehead against something. That’s what gets you to open your eyes. A blue shirt? You shift in alarm to look up at who was right next to you. Oh right, you let San sleep with you on your bed. This is the first time you see him so vulnerable up close. His lashes just barely brush against his skin, his mouth slightly ajar as he snores softly. A small part of you wishes to have him like this a little longer, that even if you spoi yourself with a few moments of just gazing at his sleeping form, the day has to start. “San..” you murmur, shaking him gently.

No response. The man continues to sleep on, with no plans of letting you move out of his hold. No wonder he sleeps with a plush toy or pillow in his arms.

“San.” You say a little louder. “It’s 7AM. You have a schedule..” You remind him, patting his arm gently. His groan lets you know he’s awake much to his distaste, even going as far as covering his eyes with his forearm, to block any sunlight from forcing him up. “Get up please?” You ask him nicely, though your hand proceeds to squish his cheeks, this time you let your phone blare your alarm. “I’ll cook you some breakfast as long as you get up and get ready for your schedules.” His arms tighten just a little around you, begging for a few more minutes through a raspy whine. San, come on.” You plead gently, patting his cheek lightly to get his arms to loosen up. Eventually he does, and you catch up on the lost time to prepare food and prepare yourself up for the day.

“Only because your alarm’s Illusion.”

--------

Breakfast goes by smoothly once San wakes up, coffee and a decent meal putting him in a better mood. You wonder when did he become a little better with the mornings but that’s another story for another time. The two of you eat quietly, the TV faintly plays the morning programs.

“Ah, right..” You speak up after a moment. “Manager Yoon’s going to be the one to pick you up.” At least that means San doesn’t have to rush anymore when it comes to preparing for the day. That also means he’s the last to be made up for today’s guestings in the nightly radio.

The man stifles a yawn, his body still warming up to the mere fact he’s awake in the morning. “That’s good. What time is he coming here?” He asks as he looks at his phone. “Nevermind, half an hour.” He quickly adds as he sees the message.

This also means he would have to tell the boys and the managers of his relationship status now. “Is it alright if I tell the boys about us?” He asks, remembering the conversation he had with the members in the past. He gave it a shot now, and it was successful. “Of course, I won’t say anything if you don’t want to.” It was through the months of catching up that he realized just how private you are with your own life.

You don’t mind, so you give him the go signal. “Yeah, if you have to tell the company too that’s alright. I just don’t want to go public with the relationship at least for now.” You trust San yes, but can you trust the fans? A lot has changed between the two of you but surely more so for the fans they cater to.

He nods, a little giddy to tell the boys already that the two of you are now a thing. He sees the food that’s still on the table and feels a little bummed that he won’t be able to eat this at the end of the day.

“Go get ready, your manager’s going to be here any time now.” You stand up as you finish your own meal.

He places his own plate by the sink as a thought flashes in his mind. He wonders how nice it would be to live with you, instead of just constant sleepovers. These thoughts were better saved for another time, for now, he opts to press a quick kiss on your temple. “Thanks, babe.”

---------

The trip to the hair salon was a little rowdy to put it simply. After San dropped the news on the three members and Manager Yoon, the questions just kept going. The questions were just the same thing though, just coming from two sources: Wooyoung and Yunho. Seonghwa on the other hand was watching the entire scene unfold with relief and amusement. It was nice to see San smile this bright and giddy again.

San did tell the entire conversation to the best that he can to the three. Manager Yoon smiling to himself as well as he listens to him. “About time.” Yunho teases as he hits San’s shoulders over and over.

“As much as I’m happy for you, I’m bummed I won’t get to see Hongjoong drunk.” Wooyoung says with a snicker. San takes no offense, admittedly he also wanted to see Hongjoong drunk too. Maybe some other time.

“I’ll tell the other members in the dorm. I promised them that it would only be the members and managers.” San immediately follows it up with the promise. He trusts his members, he really does but the extra precaution was needed especially with you. As much as he wants to tell the members now, it’ll have to wait when they’re back in the privacy of their dorms. For now, they had to focus on their schedules for the next few days.

--------

The other members noticed that San was a little happier than usual even at such an early hour. Yeosang throws an inquisitive look at Wooyoung, hoping for an answer to the strange behavior. The latter says nothing but gives his friend a patient smile. Even as San tries to contain his relief for you, there’s the feeling of quiet content on his shoulders.

The cameras start rolling, and the smiles start showing. It’s nice to see the fans again after so long. New and familiar faces are in front of them, it was an odd feeling to see people this close again. The cheers that erupt after greeting them puts a rush of adrenaline into their veins. Though there was a glass wall that separates them, the djs and the fans, it wasn’t a big deal. Things were safe now. They can go out and have a small fan meeting with the fans afterwards.

The radio show goes smoothly: a few TMIs of their daily life and comeback preparations. Some skits were done for those listening in along with a short QnA with their new songs playing in between. As much as San wanted to check his phone during the break, there were fans just outside that could look at his phone just because he knows you usually message around this time. Instead, he looks out the window, greeting the fans and waving to the cameras. He’s grateful for the fans who have stayed through the thick and thin. In a sense, both sides have seen each other grow through life’s milestones. He wonders how many of them are in a relationship as well and the thought unknowingly makes him smile softly at the fans.

It’s Wooyoung’s insistent poking and tickling that gets him out of his thoughts, just in time for the show to continue. Before the show ends, they’re told to sing their latest song. In typical fashion, they sing their hearts out even if this is just a radio show, even if their dancing won’t be caught on camera, they still do the choreography in their seats.

For the ending of the show, they go to where the fans are waiting, waving to them as the curtains of the venue slowly go down. It takes a while for the curtains to go down but the boys make the most with a few finger hearts, waves, and kisses to fans who have been waiting for hours for them. Now that the radio show has ended, San was able to comfortably complain and retaliate Wooyoung’s teasing and poking earlier.

“Don’t get mad at me. You really looked like you were out of it!” Wooyoung claims as he squeaks over the tickling that he can’t escape from. Thanks Jongho.

It’s not like San can deny that he was busy in his own head but he wasn’t going to confirm it outright here.

Hongjoong’s return with their new album that they signed in the hair salon managed to break the bickering. It was their way of thanking the DJ for being invited onto his show, along with the hopes of being invited again in the future. With all the niceties and other gratitudes out of the way, it was time to head home.

---------

It’s when everyone’s finally at home that the air was buzzing with curiosity. It’s rare to have San be that warm in the mornings. Well he’s gotten better with the mornings, that was a fact but there was some sort of warmth that was oozing out of San today. He knows this too or at least, he can sense that there’s something in the air with his members.

“San, did something happen?” Hongjoong asks, now that they’re complete again for their weekly catch up. The other four were still in the dark about what had happened, the three that do know are just smiling at him. The smiles though are clearly in different stages.

Yeosang, despite his curiosity to know what happened, can’t help but feel a little bit of alarm at the sight of how different the smiles were on Seonghwa’s, Yunho’s and Wooyoung’s faces. “San did something really smart or really dumb.” He blurts out, much to Mingi’s alarm.

This makes the mentioned male wince at how true it sounds. He did do a lot of dumb stuff behind the camera so he couldn’t blame Yeosang for that. “Depends on how you guys take it though…” San speaks up now that everyone’s eyes are on him. His hand reaches behind his neck, rubbing it to ease his nerves. After a deep breath, he tells them that you and him are now dating, officially. The room bursts into celebration after it sinks in: Yunho and Mingi tackling the poor guy to the floor, Jongho and Seonghwa have bursted into song-- a popular OST from a recent drama they’re watching, Hongjoong says nothing but smiles in relief at his member. Thank god it ends on a good note. Truly, his kids are growing up.

“Wooyoung looks bummed.” Yeosang points out, though with no concern after knowing the reason. It gets everyone to look at him, everyone but San who feared the worst.

“Nah, I’m happy for our Sannie here.” Wooyoung explains, putting emphasis on his nickname the same way you would for him. “This just means, Hongjoong-hyung and I won’t be able to drink ten shots.”

It’s only then that Hongjoong bursts into cheer, going as far as to tease him much to Wooyoung’s fake annoyance.

San looks at the entire room, eyes slightly wide with shock. “So you guys are okay with it? The two of us dating?” Even to him, the mere fact he’s dating someone he’s had feelings for so long feels unreal.

Hongjoong shakes his head, bottom lip out in thought. “No? Why would we have an issue with it? You’ve been in love with them for so long and growing through it and now the two of you are together. Why would we be mad about this? San, we’re happy.” He stops for a moment. “Do you have plans of telling the company?”

San tilts his head in thought this time. “I’m still thinking if I should. I mean, they’ve given me the go signal if I want to tell the company but they’d rather I don’t go public with the dating.” He recounts the conversation. Hell, even his fellow friends in the other groups didn’t go public with their dating. For now, he’ll stick to being private about your relationship. “Give me two months before telling the company maybe?”

“Six?”

He looks at Seonghwa, a little surprised by the input. “Really?”

“Or you know,” butts in Yunho. “Just tell the company when you’re ready.”

“Can we at least meet up with them again soon?” Mingi asks now that it seems settled. “I miss seeing them too.” He admits, a dusting of embarrassment over his cheeks.

Now that Mingi mentioned it, it’s been quite a while since all of you met up again. While he did have you all to himself for the most part, their hectic schedules have made it hard for the nine of you to meet for dinner. “I can send them a message, ask their schedule then we can plan it from there.” San suggests.

Seeing the younger yawn through their words, Hongjoong decides to end the catch up session there. “I guess we can end it here then. Everyone’s tired and we got a full schedule for the next three days.”

It goes without saying that if there’s a full schedule then San won’t be able to sleep over until the end. For the most part, he manages not being able to see you on the daily. He’s used to it. It’s a little different now that the two of you are dating, he wants to see you more often but work comes first. The text messages will do for now.

---------

The last schedule finally ends and already the members can feel the buzz in his body to see you again. Seonghwa snickers at the scene in front of him. A wide eyed San that’s about to bounce on the balls of his feet. If it weren’t for it being seen as rude, he would be bouncing to leave the building. While the younger’s too busy in his own thoughts and excitement, Seonghwa sneaks a video to send to you.

[ Seonghwa to You ] excited_san.vid

[ Seonghwa to You ] be prepared for tonight

[ Seonghwa to You ] he was so exhausted the past few days.

[ Seonghwa to You ] he’s gonna be clingy

[ Seonghwa to You ] don’t say i didn’t warn you.

“Did you just send them a video of San?” asks Wooyoung under his breath to not be caught by San. All they were waiting for was the director in order to say properly bid goodbye after the long shoot. At his question, Seonghwa shows Wooyoung the video. “Send it to me, hyung. I want to have something to use for his birthday.” The younger begs.

“Just shoot him now. He’s swaying on his feet.” Seonghwa points out. True enough, San couldn’t keep still now. To others, he just seemed restless, aching to be in the comfort of his own bed. But the members know better, he’s excited to come home to you.

[ You to Seonghwa ] I’m not surprised.

[ You to Seonghwa ] I already have food ready in case he skips on dinner again.

[ You to Seonghwa ] laughing_apeach.emoji

Seonghwa keeps his phone immediately once the director comes in. Proper niceties were exchanged along with a gift of a signed album. Now that was done, San lets out a relieved exhale as they leave the premises.

“Sleeping over at their place again?” Seonghwa teases his younger member. “Don’t forget to ask for their schedule for a dinner with us too.” He reminds lightly at the sight of San’s red cheeks.

“Of course! Ah, hyung, what do you take me for?” San complains lightheartedly as they make their way to the car.

“A lovesick puppy.” Seonghwa returns without missing a beat and it’s enough to make San hide his face behind his hands. While San tries to calm down from such a straightforward answer, Seonghwa already sends San a reminder to his kakao. “There, if you still forget, you’re cleaning the bathroom for a week.”

The doorbell rings and you immediately make your way to the door. Lily following by your feet, the little one already knowing who it was by the door. By the time you unlock your door, you see San now in his casual get up, smiling warmly at you. “Hey.” San says simply, his arms slightly raised, a shy request for a hug to which you grant once he steps inside your home.

--------

The familiar scent of your shampoo and your clothes relaxes his strained body after a strenuous week. You can feel him practically melt in your arms. “Hey, hey, don’t fall asleep like this. I’m not strong enough to carry you to bed!” The way your voice rose in concern and alarm made San giggle lightly against your neck. Not wanting to scare you any further, he peels himself off you.

He spots your Lily looking up at him, tail swishing about in warm welcome to his return. Once they’re given the chance to head home for a break, he’ll get to see Byeol again. Once he sets his things down by your couch, Lily loops herself around his legs. “Nice to see you too~” he coos softly as he carefully picks her up in his arms.

As he busies himself with your feline companion, “Have you eaten?” You ask from the kitchen. At least you don’t have to worry about what he likes to eat.

“Not yet…” He confesses, a little shyly as he approaches the kitchen, gently setting Lily down on the ground. “What’s for dinner?” He asks, as he looks for how else can he help around your place.

“Beef, shrimp and some tteokbokki I cooked yesterday.” The table was already set up. You lean against the counter as you wait for the microwave to finish heating up the last of the meal you prepared for him. Silence shortly falls over the two of you, save for the microwave whirring in the background. It’s hard not to spot how hungry San looks at the sight of the food in front of him that it makes you chuckle lightly. “You can eat already, San. I’m just heating up the tteokbokki.”

The microwave beeps as it finishes heating the last meal. Already San has started to eat the beef first and you let him eat in peace, god knows how long it has been since his last meal. He notices you watching him with soft eyes and again he feels his ears heat up. He asks you a question that you can’t quite decipher with the food in his mouth. “Eat first, before you ask again.” You reassure, once he tries to rush through his food.

You had a point so he chews slowly this time, making sure to not choke in the process before speaking up again. “How was your day?” He asks, this time a little clearer, before taking another spoonful of what looked like his 2nd serving of rice.

Well, you entertain him with your day: meetings, pre-production preparations, scouting of locations. It’s the same old day for you but you don’t mind. You’re always on the move even at the odd hours of the night sometimes. He sees it in your smile, despite the dark circles under your eyes from sleepless nights, he sees how fulfilled you are with your work. It’s the same feeling he has with his. It’s through you that he learned how to be a better artist in front of the camera and with the staff. It’s also because of you that Wooyoung’s video editing skills got better but that’s another story.

So you return the question to him, wondering how he’s been for the past few days. Honestly, you tune in to his shows whenever you can, sometimes even just having it as background noise as you work on your own at home.

He takes your question as his cue to let his body digest the food he practically inhaled. He leans back against the chair, trying to recall the blur of the past few days. To a degree, he does. Truthfully, the days melt into each other when it comes to work. The only way he knows that time has passed is through the habits the members have, along with your text messages. It’s not that he doesn’t care for himself but his life as an artist is always fast paced that even someone as seasoned as him still has trouble with telling the days apart. Despite that, he’s able to remember enough to give you a bit of story, though he ends it with a bashful confession of how the days just blur into each other sometimes. Your reassurance relieves him even if it’s a bit. It’s a little worrisome that he confuses the days when he works, he admits.

When he realizes that he’s already full from the food, he lets out a content sigh. “Thank you for the meal, really.” He says, already feeling sleepy from how sated he feels.

“Hey don’t fall asleep on me!” You whine as you nudge his calf under the table. “Help me put these away first!” It takes him awhile to regain his surroundings, food coma already coming in fast for him. Fortunately, he manages to get himself out of his lazy state to help you.

Once all of that was over, the two of you lounge by the couch, letting the tv play whatever movie was playing. It’s only when the two of you are in your sleepwear that the exhaustion sets in.

Your head finds comfort leaning against his arm. The two of you weren’t really paying attention to the movie, it was just there for white noise. Both of you were just basking in each other’s presence-- even if it meant Lily pads back and forth on the couch behind you. The two of you watch the feline bolt across the room, chasing after its own toys. As Lily bounces off, running after a ball, San takes a peek at you. “I know that look.” He says softly, careful to not startle you. “Wanna talk about what’s in your head?” He offers.

Truthfully, he also had some thoughts in his head. Though, he still has trouble phrasing them out loud, he’d rather listen to you first. Maybe from there he’d get answers or relief from your thoughts as well.

Your gaze has fallen from Lily running around to your hand just brushing against his and it’s when San speaks up softly that you snap out of your daze. “Hm?” You hum in response. “Nothing serious.” You reassure. “Just thinking of how we’ve become.” You add. How do you tell San the thoughts in your tangled head? There’s a lot of thoughts in there, verbalizing these thoughts still aren’t your forte.

“Oh?” He replies, hoping to hear more of your thoughts. As much as he is talkative, taking the role of the ears was something he appreciates just as much. “Like how?” He asks, his palm upturned as an open invitation for you to hold his hand.

It takes a few moments for you to accept the invitation as you ended up just keeping your gaze on his open hand. “It’s just… I feel happy with you.” It’s not the answer he expected but he listens. “Not saying that I wasn’t happy without you, I felt happy and fulfilled on my own. I think,” You stop often, trying to find the right words. “There’s something about us now dating that makes my heart race.”

“Is it a good kind?” San asks, leaning forward and shifting to face you properly.

It’s hard to miss how intense his gaze can be despite the soft look in his eyes that it makes you look down at your hands that brush against each other. “Yeah, I like the feeling so far.” You admit. It’s a new feeling, the best way you can describe it is how you get so excited and nervous for the first day of doing something you love. Only instead of doing something, it’s knowing you have someone willing to stay by your side.

It’s such a new feeling and you’re not sure of how to treasure it properly.

like, we went from these two awkward adults making ends meet with their jobs, still trying to get used to the fact we’re both in our early twenties.” The mention of the age makes him think back to those years. It feels a little weird to have started out like that to end up becoming the man he is today. He thinks back to his members, seeing each other grow and become their own individual selves outside the group. Eventually the thoughts go to you, the one sitting next to him with their arm looped around his. “Come to think of it, San. I did a lot of stupid things too back then… in hindsight, I could’ve reacted better and done things a little differently and maybe neither of us would’ve gone through such things but…” A soft sigh leaves your lips. “That’s life. We’ve learned from it from the looks of things.”

Once you finish your thought, San’s features soften up. It’s not that he’s been wanting some kind of apology for how you acted, he’s moved past that by now. He’s been in good terms with you now but he still wonders just how vivid your thoughts are. After you spill your thoughts, he leans over to brush his lips against your temple. He doesn’t know why he does so but it just felt like he should. Having you lean into his affection was a thrill he doesn’t see himself getting tired of, it leaves such a warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t help but pull you closer. “What has happened brought us to where we are now, so please, don’t beat yourself up for what happened.” He murmurs softly, pulling away to make you look at him in the eye.

The two of you were so close. So painfully close, that one could just reach out a little and your lips could touch. No one makes a move though. Instead, the two of you look at each other, quiet content in the air. San closes the gap between the two of you by leaning his forehead gently against yours, giggling softly.

“What?” You mumbled, slight confusion in your voice. The lack of distance now had your heart racing, the faint scent of his shampoo already had your head spinning.

“Nothing,” he just giggles and quickly presses a kiss on your forehead. “The movie’s already finished. We barely even paid attention.” Already, the screen’s rolling credits along with bloopers in between. He glances at the time. It’s a habit of his when he’s had a long day.

“Let’s go to sleep?” You offer, after he puts his phone down. He flashes a small smile. “What?”

“I don’t have anything tomorrow, so I’ll be able to catch up on sleep.” He says with pride. A small part of you tightens in pain, you have a full day tomorrow.

“Crap, I got a full day tomorrow. I can buy us fried chicken and maybe some soju to make up for it.” You explain. He looks at you and guilt shines in your eyes to which he shakes his head.

He squishes your cheeks together, producing a surprised yelp from you. “Babe,” he starts. “It’s okay, that’s work. You have to deal with me working crazy hours day in and day out, I don’t mind.” He explains. The way your lips pucker up makes him laugh. “At least bring home some mint choco ice cream too!” A thought of how your lips would feel against his passes his head.

On the other hand, you felt your heart skip as he called you ‘Babe’. Maybe you can call him something similar down the line. His words bring you reassurance, managing to smile after he lets go of your cheeks. “I’ll buy you a big serving.” You promise as you stand up, stretching your now sleeping legs. San raises his arms to you, looking like a baby asking to be carried. With your utmost strength, you pull him to his feet.

To be honest, ever since he slept with you in the same bed, it’s been a little weird to sleep on your own. He says hugging you makes him sleep better, but you can’t deny that sleeping in his arms does feel nice. Now that you’re settled under the blankets, he pulls you flush against his chest. “You sure it won’t get too hot for you like this?” You ask him once you make sure your alarm is ready for tomorrow.

“Nope. I’ll be fine. You need to get your sleep. Do I need to sing you a lullaby?”

You were thankful he couldn’t feel how hot your cheeks have become at such an offer. Maybe in the near future. Instead of saying anything, you just lace your fingers with his that were around your waist. “Go to sleep, Sannie. You got chicken, soju and ice cream waiting for you tomorrow.” Just as you were about to drift to sleep, you feel his nose nuzzle lightly against your neck. The last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his smile against your skin.

--------

You wake up to your phone buzzing to start the new day. Something in you tells you staying at home is better but you press on. As much as sleeping in with San is nice, you need to earn money.

A soft yawn slips from your lips, and you stretch just a little. It’s a little tricky to wake your body up when San’s warmth practically envelops your entire being. Regardless, you miraculously wriggle yourself free from San’s sleeping figure to get ready for the day ahead of you.

You get ready for the day quietly, making sure to not make too much noise. Carefully, you manage to make yourself something filling and quick to eat on the way. Of course, knowing how late San wakes up on off days: you put his share in the fridge. A quick note is placed on the fridge, just something to let him know there’s some food for him if he doesn’t want to order take out. You also make sure to feed Lily as she’s already pacing around expecting food for the day. “Don’t disturb Sannie okay?”

Before you leave, you press a quick kiss on his temple-- it was the only spot you could see as he practically buried himself in your blankets. How lucky. With that, you’re off to work.

--------

It’s midday by the time San wakes up. Lily’s already on his chest, meowing at him to wake up. The weight on his chest gets him to his senses quickly as he scrambles for his phone. “What time is it…” He rasps out as the screen momentarily blinds him. 2.00 PM. He’d sleep more but it’s not an option when Lily’s impatient for her lunch. Once Lily knows he isn’t falling back asleep, she hops off him. Her tail swishes about in impatience and hunger. Once he was free, he rolls off the bed with a yawn. Feed her first before doing any of his morning routine.

He’s wide awake by the time he gets out of the shower. Also, he’s hungry. He looks through his messages as he walks around your apartment.

[ You to San: 8:00 AM ] hello hello! I made some food that you might want to eat once you wake up!

[ Wooyoung to San: 9:54 AM ] When can we eat with the two of you? :>

[ Hongjoong to San: 1:45 PM ] We got a photoshoot three days from now. Don’t forget!

You usually message him around noon to remind him to eat even if he was just in your apartment. But it’s already 2.45PM, he worries for a moment but he tries to chalk it up to you just having a full day. He checks the kitchen and sees the note that you stuck onto the fridge.

You made rice balls and took some of the left over meat for your breakfast. This means that you made some for him too. He looks into the fridge once more if there’s any other food he could pair with the rice balls. He does: pickled radish, fermented anchovies and some beef with the rice balls. If he still wants more, he can go for take out while waiting for you.

He spends what’s left of his day watching tv or playing games on his phone, all while entertaining a rather clingy Lily.

[ San to You ] How are you?

It’s been a couple of hours since you’ve made any message to him. It’s become the topic on his mind, being battled out by two opposing sides of: you’re probably busy or something’s wrong. There was another possibility that he didn’t consider until now: both. For his peace of mind and hopefully yours, he writes up a message for you.

[ San to You ] Babe, don’t stress about the food! Leave it up to me, just come back into my arms okay?

[ San to You ] San_Duck.jpg

He looks at the time, he remembers you mentioning that you’ll be back by ten in the evening. That’s roughly five more hours of waiting and lounging about. He treasures the moments of silence and alone time he gets regardless of where he is: they’re a rarity in his field of work. His phone’s barely ringing from anything work related, but it rings when it comes to game invites. Who was he to turn down a match or two with his dear friends?

For the next hour or two, he manages to entertain himself with a few games, all while Lily finds entertainment in his hoodie’s zipper. The only reason he stops is because Lily was about to pull his hoodie off from her insistent pulling and tossing about. “Alright alright, you’re really just like your owner huh?” He jokes under his breath as he stands up to play with the feline this time.

In between playing with her, San manages to get some snacks in his system. With only less than three hours left before you arrive home, he orders take out for dinner for the two of you.

All that’s left now is to wait.

It’s already eleven. The food’s a little cold now, the ice cream and alcohol are in the fridge. Maybe he should heat it up again? Are you okay? He doesn’t know if he should worry or go out and look for you. Even Lily’s restlessly swishing her tail about by the door. He looks at his phone and your message comes in right on time.

[ You to San ] Sorry work ended late.

[ You to San ] I couldn’t buy your favorites too..

Something definitely happened at work but he won’t ask through text. You’ll tell him anyways.

[ San to You ] It’s fine! I’ll heat up our food ^^

When he stands up and picks up the food from the table, Lily looks up at him unblinking. “They’ll be late but they’re on their way home.” He replies, a bit of an attempt to reassure himself as well, while heating up the chicken and other meals he bought.

You arrive at home at nearly midnight. Your bag being dropped somewhere in the hallway. The drop startled both San and Lily. He immediately jumps to his feet and peeks into the hallway, you’re there against the wall, running your fingers through your hair. He notes how you’re trying to pace your breathing. “Babe…?” He calls you softly, worry obvious in his eyes as he takes a careful step forward. “What’s going--” you run into his arms, and slowly, his shirt feels a little damp. A little surprised by the turn of events, he glances at Lily. The feline says nothing but approaches you, gently butting her head against your leg. Even she was worried by the sudden burst of tears. “Hey… let’s sit down, you’ve had a long day.” San ushers gently. He doesn’t make a move until you cry out the initial frustrations.

He sits down first, letting you sit in between his legs, almost cradling you as you try your utmost best to stop crying. Lily pads over to the both of you, hopping onto the couch to keep an eye on you especially. San doesn’t say anything, letting you cry as much as you can, proving back rubs whenever your body shakes from tears you try to hold on to.

Whenever his hand’s on your back, the tears keep flowing. No matter how hard you try to use your usual methods to stop crying, it still keeps going. “Need tissue..” you mumble through your sniffles. Already your boyfriend has one in his hand and he wipes your tears first, before attending to your nose. He reassures you to take your time, that you don’t need to tell him if you don’t have the strength to talk about it. Besides the reassurances, he reminds you to eat too. That’s when you realize you’ve been on an empty stomach for a long while now. You shift in his arms just to get some food in your system.

As the two of you eat, the walls you tried to keep up earlier, come down. You tell him of a horrible meeting that set everyone a week back which could mean a longer delay down the line. It’s not your fault, you say over and over, wanting to believe your own innocence. No matter what you did to avoid this situation, it still happened because of uncooperative talents who decided not to tell anyone of their plans. Yet it fell on you, you were the point person for both sides yet because of their inability to communicate, the brunt of the chaos fell on you. All the pent up stress you kept away from San bursted today after that horrific meeting. The reason you left late was due to all the follow up meetings to rearrange the timeline of projects. The constant frustration and disappointment from everyone and yourself just broke you. As you explain, your voice breaks again that you had to put down the potato wedge. You try to control yourself again. You’ve cried too much.

San has none of your insistent need to control yourself. He whispers soft praises and words of comfort. “It’s okay.” he would say as he feeds chicken pops to you. “You did everything you can and I’m proud of you still.” He would remind you as he urges you to drink water. “Let me know who these are and I’ll give them an earful.” He threatens. While it sounds empty to the two of you, he knows just what to do should he know who these were. At one point, the tears continue again and he wonders just how much you’ve tried to keep from him no matter how many times he asks. Your lover sighs a little, pained to see you in such a position but he knows you need to let out all the things you’ve kept inside. He lets you cry it out but he also makes sure to wipe the tears that continue to run down your already tear stained cheeks. He could only imagine just how heavy you feel. “Can you look at me?” San asks gently. It takes a few heart beats but you eventually do. Eyes shining still with tears that have yet to shed, yet you manage to still have that flame in you to keep going. “Today’s one bad day. That’s okay.” he starts, cupping your cheeks because of how often you look away whenever he gets into these moods. He needs you to keep his eyes on him this time, just once. “Tomorrow’s another day. Another beginning. Your co-workers are aware now of how insufferable those talents are. They’ll come to their senses to apologize to you.” A small smile flickers in his serious visage when he hears you laugh a bit at his choice of words. “Also, it’s okay to cry. Don’t hold it in to yourself. Even if we’re both always so busy, you can talk to me or Jiwoo.” A meow comes from behind you and it makes the two of you look at Lily, pacing around the couch. “Of course, Lily’s here as well.” His thumbs run across your cheeks ever so carefully, wiping away the tear stains. “Promise me at least? Anything that bothers you, talk to anyone about it, even me.”

You lean into his touch, your hands rest over his ever so lightly. At his words, your chest tightens at how worried he is for you. Your eyes close again, breathing slowly. “I will.” You say simply. It doesn’t surprise you anymore when you feel San’s lips flutter over your eyes, your cheeks, then your nose. The ticklish yet comforting feeling causes giggles to bubble out from your lips. Yet you don’t say anything, still so shy by how close he is to you. He doesn’t pull away yet, and you can’t open your eyes just yet. You can feel his gaze on you though and it makes you squirm a little, self conscious and curious of what’s San looking at exactly. His words, barely above a whisper, makes you sit still in between his legs.

“Can I kiss you?” It didn’t take much for you to understand where he wanted to kiss you. For a moment you bite your bottom lip in thought at such a question. In your exhausted state, his question brings your brain out of the fog enough to make you nod.

The kiss isn’t like those in dramas. There’s no music that plays in the background, no fireworks. It was just silence in your room and your heart beat in your ears. It’s not like the pop songs that talk of sweet lollipops and chocolate flavored kisses. This tasted of dried tears and take out food but it was familiar. It’s not like the books where they describe just how soft their lover’s lips were. This was a little chapped and rough but it felt so right. The kiss was a little clumsy, noses bumping along the way but it was something that made your day a little better.

You never thought you could melt under someone’s affections and love. But here you are, feeling a little weak in his hold, wanting more of his lips against yours until either of you pull away for air.

It takes a moment before the two of you pull away from the kiss. It wasn’t the most ideal situation to do so but it just happened naturally. He wished he could take the pain away from you but that’s not how life works. This was the best thing he could think of to comfort you. You lean against his forehead, a smile so faint, so soft, it reminds him of pillows just before sleep takes him. “Thank you.” You say softly. “Thank you for being with me.”

You didn’t realize that your hands have slid over to loosely grip his shirt.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head just a little, just to kiss the corner of your lips. “Anything for you.” He simply says. There’s relief in his shoulders when he sees how you’ve stopped crying, how the rain clouds in your head have cleared up. Giggles bubble out of your lips, slowly the you that the two of you know comes back.

“Can I take a shower? I want to be in my pajamas.” You say, slowly regaining your surroundings. You were still rather hungry but you want the comfort of fresh new clothes.

“Go ahead. I can clean up from here. I’ll see you in bed then?” he asks as the two of you stand up, putting all the bones and other trash in one bag. You press a quick peck on his cheek as thanks, scampering off quickly before you could see the shocked look on his face. It takes him a moment to get back to reality. “Ah, what am I going to do with you..” He asks to no one in particular. He feels Lily’s eyes on him, her ears flicking in what he assumes could be amusement. “What? I’m in love with them.”

--------

The two of you are finally in bed, getting ready to wind down. “What’s your schedule tomorrow? Er, well, today.” He asks as he towel dries your hair.

“I come in at noon, they said they’ll look through the records as protocol.” You say simply. Now that your head’s clearer, you know that this won’t mean the end of your career with the production house. It could mean some reprimands but it’s not the end of the world for you.

“Okay good, at least you get some sleep.” He muses, satisfied now with how dry your hair is now. He carefully combs through your locks.

“San If you keep that up, I’ll fall asleep on you like this.” How you managed to say that through a yawn was beyond you.

“That’s okay, I can carry you.” He says without missing a beat but he stops either way, putting away the towel and comb. “Tell you what, by next week, let’s have dinner with the boys.”

It’s a good idea. You miss the boys already and you wonder how they’ve been since the shoot. “Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll send you my schedule when we wake up then we can plan it from there?”

The two of you shift a little in bed and as always, San’s arms finds their home around your waist, pulling you a little closer than usual tonight. “Sleep well, babe.” He murmurs softly against your neck. In return, you squeeze his hand just a bit.

“You too, Sannie.” Tomorrow’s a new day. As long as you can have him, you can take on anything.

Relationships might be tricky but you’ll make it work.

Part 10

#my writings #san fluff #san comfort #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #uhhhh what else to tag this as #this was two months overdue goddamn

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breaddowrites · 4 years

Text

Fresh Start | Draco Malfoy x Reader

hey, this was inspired partially by someones shifting experience. pls let me know if you want me to continue this, and share ideas if you have. also let me know if any of it is kinda bad. critique me!

words: 2.3k

warnings: violence n mean draco

You were a very popular Gryffindor in year 6. You had managed to befriend all the right people from the other houses, and most of the teachers adored you and how much you reminded them of your mother. Everyone loved you.

Everyone except one.

“Oi! L/N!” Draco shouted, chasing after you as you ran out of potions class.

You were fuming, your eyes narrowed to angry slits and your lips pursed. The entire school knew to stay out of your way when you had that look on your face. Except Draco Malfoy. “Look at me when I talk to you!” Draco grabbed your arm, pulling you to face him.

You had just reached the top of the stairs as he spun you around, and you almost tripped down them. You glared fiercely at Draco, and snapped your arm out of his grasp. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to talk to you, Malfoy?!”

“I don’t give a bloody damn if you’re in the mood to talk to me.” He glared back at you with equal fire. “You screwed up my grade, you stupid wench. Screw up like that again and the whomping willow will have do with you!”

An uncontrollable rage grew in your stomach, and you grit your teeth. “Damn the whomping willow!” You shouted, fists balled at your side. “And damn you, Malfoy! All you care about is yourself. I’m so tired of dealing with you, bloody selfish prick! Can’t you just find someone else to piss off for once, you BRAT!”

You were screaming by the end of your rant, and a crowd of students had formed to watch you two argue. This wasn’t a rare occurrence, but it got worse with every passing day.

Draco was enraged by your words and shrilling voice, he reached his hands out to grab your shoulders and push you down the stairs behind you. You gasped at your sudden loss of balance, and grabbed Draco’s wrist. The stairs began to move to the other side of the hall as you stumbled, and you two went tumbling to the landing on the other side of the hall. You cried out of pain, you had definitely received a lot of new bruises and as Draco landed on you, you thought you broke a few ribs.

With the unresolved anger issues you possessed, you rolled to be on top of Draco and began throwing the punches your mother had taught you in case of situations like this. “I’m gonna kill you, Malfoy!” You screamed, your hands wrapped around his throat.

Draco spun you over and punched you with his right fist. You gasped at the feeling of his cold metal rings colliding with your skin. “Not if I kill you first, L/N!”

The fight became more violent as the seconds passed, neither of you remembering you had magic powers. None of the students watching dared get between the feral teenagers.

Finally, McGonagall and Snape appeared, tearing the two apart. “What on EARTH is going on here?!” Snape boomed, bringing the pair back to reality.

“He pushed me-”

“She punched me-”

“SILENCE!” McGonagall exclaimed, her grip on you tightening. “I don’t even know where I’m going to start with you two!”

In McGonagall’s classroom, Draco and you sat in two chairs next to each other. Your uniforms were ruffed, and both of you had blood pooling from various parts of your faces. You had your tie shoved to your bloody nose, and Draco was holding his black eye.

Snape and McGonagall were shouting.

When they had finally released you to the infirmary, your task was to walk together in a civilized manner. Your adrenaline had worn off, and you weren’t that angry anymore. The exhaustion and dizziness made you realize you probably had a concussion.

“You’re such an idiot, L/N.” Draco, on the other hand, was still fuming.

You rolled your eyes, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Merlin, just shut up for once, Malfoy. My head is spinning enough, I don’t need your bloody voice ringing in my ears anymore.”

Draco grit his teeth. “You’re not so innocent, and everyone knows now. Everyone knows the monster you really are.”

Your eyes snapped up to glare at him. “Shut it, daddy’s boy. Just because you don’t get enough attention at home doesn’t mean you can go searching for it everywhere else. I’m just as tired of you as your parents are.” You paused, raising a hand to your eyes. “Shit,”

Draco stared at you, wondering how the hell you had the nerve to keep saying stuff like that to him. He was still fuming, and hardly noticed your paling face. “At least my father loves me enough to stick around, can’t say the same for yours. Wasn’t he declared dead a few days ago?

“Draco-” You tried interrupting, your vision going fuzzy. You struggled to move.

“Must be a shame to be known as the girl with a dead father and a crazy bitch of a mother.”

You shoved your arm out to grab his sleeve. “I-”

With a short start to a sentence, you were down. Draco hardly managed to catch you as your legs gave out. “L/N?” He questioned, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth fall open. He bent his ear to your mouth, feeling you breathing ever so softly. “Bloody hell,” he sighed, wincing as he tossed you over his sprained shoulder.

Madame Pomfrey exclaimed when she saw Draco rush in with you. “Set her there!” She pointed to the closest empty bed. Draco set you down as gently as he could. “Draco, what happened?!”

“W-We were doing fine, just walking. Well, we got into a fight, obviously. We also fell down the stairs.” A tinge of guilt pang through him as he watched Pomfrey dab the welts on your face from his rings. “She just collapsed. I think she said something about being dizzy.”

“She must be concussed,” Pomfrey furrowed her brows with worry. “This is very bad. She might not wake up.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “What do you mean she might not wake up?”

“It’s very risky to fall asleep with a concussion, and if she just collapsed, that’s a very bad sign. She may have slipped into a coma.” Pomfrey sighed, beginning to take your vitals. “All I can do right now is examine her until she wakes up.”

Draco turned and sprinted out of the room, the overwhelming feeling to get away from your unconscious body was uncontrollable. “Draco!” Pomfrey yelled. “I still need to patch you up!”

Everyone had gone to visit you in bed, everyone except Draco Malfoy.

One day, late in the afternoon, Draco walked into the infirmary. He almost had to walk back out. He never thought he could hold so much guilt for someone he once despised to the core.

Your bruises had almost healed, they were just yellow spots littering your pale skin. He sat in the chair that was always besides your bed, and glanced over your still figure. You hadn’t moved in weeks. It was completely his fault. “L/N…” He began softly, shifting his gaze to his bruised knuckles. “I’m sorry.” He’d spent days trying to justify his actions, trying to shift the blame to you, but he just couldn’t anymore.

Madame Pomfrey was alerted by a crash in the main room. She raced out of her office to see that the bed which occupied you for two weeks was empty. “Y/N?” Pomfrey called out, rushing over to find you curled fearfully on the floor and Draco stepping away from you.

Tears streaking down your cheeks, you looked up. “W-Where am I? Where’s my mother?!” You cried, scooting yourself against the wall. “Who are you people?! MOTHER!” You cried out, sinking in on yourself.

“Y/N, Y/N, my dear!” Madame Pomfrey crouched down a few feet in front of you. “My name is Madame Pomfrey, I’m the matron at Hogwarts. You recognize Hogwarts, don’t you, darling?”

“H-Hogwarts?” You questioned, lowering your hands from your face. Your gaze flickered between Pomfrey and Draco. “Am I at Hogwarts?”

“Yes, sweetheart. You had an incident and fell into a concussion coma for a few weeks. It seems you have a bit of amnesia as well.” Pomfrey frowned at you and stood back up. “Can I examine you, my dear?”

“Who is he?” You asked, pointing at Draco.

“That’s Draco Malfoy. He was just visiting you, a lot of people have been visiting you since your accident.” Pomfrey motioned Draco toward you. “Be useful and help her up.”

You looked at Draco suspiciously, but allowed him to help you stand up. Your legs were incredibly weak after not being used for two weeks, and he did most of the work getting you back onto the bed.

Madame Pomfrey immediately began to examine you. You continued to stare at Draco, who’s eyes were pinned to the floor. “We must be friends, if you were visiting me.” You stated, watching him shift nervously. “Go get me something to eat, my stomach hurts.”

Draco’s eyes shot up at you, and he started to back away from your bed. “I don’t think-”

“Please,” You cut him off, grasping his hand to keep him from leaving. Your eyes begged him. “Can you please get me something to eat?”

Draco nodded, continuing to avoid your eyes. “What would you like?”

“Something soft, easy to chew. Maybe even soup.”

“Soup would be the best choice.” Pomfrey pitched in, peering into your throat.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.” Draco cleared his throat and swiftly left the room. As he walked to the dining hall, his mind was running a mile a minute.

How can she not remember me? Does she not remember anything about the fight? Does she not remember anything about our relationship, or lack thereof? Does she remember anything about Hogwarts? Did I really muck up this bad?

“My mother, she’s still traveling, right?” You questioned Madame Pomfrey. “I’m starting to remember a little. She taught here at some point, correct?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Madame Pomfrey smiled, peering over your stoic expressions. “She taught in your third year. Do you recall which class it was?”

“Herbology, I remember taking it with Harry and Ron, and this other girl… I don’t fully remember.”

After a few more questions, Madame Pomfrey came to a conclusion. “Well, it seems your amnesia is only temporary. Once I release you, Y/N, you must return if you find yourself unable to recall certain things, or have lasting pain.” She placed a hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. “You seem to be healing well, but you’ll need to stretch carefully, you haven’t moved in over two weeks.”

Draco returned to the room, looking incredibly suspicious. He exposed a thermos with soup from under his robe. “Here,” He handed you the thermos and a spoon. “It’s mushroom.”

You lit up with joy. “I love mushrooms! Thank you, Draco.” You beamed at him, quickly taking the cup from his hands.

Draco was shocked to see you smile at him like that, you had never done it before. You’d been enemies from the moment you met. “Y-Yeah, whatever.” He plopped into the chair next to your bed to contemplate on telling you the truth.

Madame Pomfrey came around with a wheelchair. “Draco, if she needs to go anywhere, you’ll take her in this. She’s not quite ready to walk long distances on her own yet.”

Draco shot up from his seat, brows furrowed. “Why do I have to take her around. Can’t the mudblood do it?!”

Pomfrey glared at Draco. “It is part of your punishment for the incident. Do you want to take care of the girl you hurt so badly or do you want three months of detention? It’s your decision, Draco.”

Pomfrey walked off, leaving Draco and you alone. You looked up at him, a tinge of anger in your eyes. “Huh, so it’s your fault I was in a coma.” You fisted his robe and yanked him toward you. “I think you owe me some explanations, right now.”

“Serves you right to have to babysit me.” You laughed, leaning into the pillows behind you. “You almost killed me, you psychopath. You need some community service.”

“It wasn’t like that, Y/N. You were psychotic too!” Draco exclaimed, laughing softly with you. “Oh, if a teacher had heard the things you said to me, you would’ve been forced to write lines until your hands bled.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re still the one that shoved me down the stairs!”

“You threw the first punch!”

“You slapped me with your dumb metal rings!”

“You gave me a black eye!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, disregarding everything you just said. “Anyway, I only forgive you because you’re hot.”

Draco gaped at you. “You are a completely different person without your memories.”

You laughed, “that’s kind of how it works, Draco.”

“I-I mean, we were enemies. We loathe each other. You would’ve eaten dirt before ever calling me hot.” He stared at you suspiciously. “There’s no way you don’t remember.”

“I really don’t. I only really remember two other people in all of Hogwarts so far. Pomfrey said I should be regaining my memories… So we’ll see if I still like you in a few days. But for now, I guess we get a fresh start.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #harry potter x reader #fanfiction #breaddowrites

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chimchimsauce · 4 years

Text

XS (V - Honesty)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Yoonji doesn't say anything as she helps YN out of her dress and YN isn't sure if she feels relieved or even more terrified. On one hand, she's grateful for the silence, not wanting to be bombarded after such a stressful encounter. But on the other hand . . . Yoonji doesn't say anything to imply that things will get better or that Taehyung - the man who is to become her husband in just a few short hours - isn't as violent and terrible as he seems.

"Yoonji," YN begins as the other woman begins to run a tub of warm water in the beautiful bathroom, "Can you be honest with me?"

Yoonji doesn't turn away immediately, instead finishing her task. When she turns to YN, her face is blank.

"Honest about what?" she asks, helping YN undress entirely.

YN wants to be embarrassed but she doesn't have the energy to.

"What is my life going to be like?" she asks, wincing as she steps into the bathwater.

Her stomach hurts like crazy and she will absolutely have an ugly bruise in a few days.

Yoonji scoops a pitcher into the milky water, pouring it over YN's head. YN coughs, choking on the unexpected water.

"Do what he says and you'll be fine," Yoonji says, unbothered by YN's coughing, "As long as you do what's expected of you, he won't hurt you . . . probably."

Yoonji dumps water over YN's head again and the woman leans forward, trying to get away from Yoonji's grasp.

"Stop moving," Yoonji says, poring some product into her hands and raking it through YN's hair.

YN wipes her face, water clinging to her eyelashes. She can't help but think that Yoonji is upset at her for some reason. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. YN had been hoping that in the very least she'd have someone who didn't terrify her to keep her company but it seems like that won't be the case.

YN sniffs, lungs hurting from all the coughing. Her eyes tear up and she can't tell if it's from pain or emotional distress. She doesn't ask any more questions as Yoonji scrubs her down with brown sugar and massages oils and cocoa butter into her skin. Yoonji dresses her in a silky nightgown and leaves her alone, closing the door with a simple "Good luck."

YN sneaks out of the bed and tries the door but to no one's surprise, it's locked. Sighing, YN crawls back into bed, grabbing one of the down pillows and cuddling it close to her. She wonders how her parents are doing. Are they okay? Were they able to clean the kitchen? Have they buried the family dog yet?

But most importantly, did Taehyung keep his word? Are they still alive?

YN's grip on the pillow tightens. She feels no peace, no ability to fall asleep. All she can do is stare at the ceiling, the hours passing by in the blink of an eye and no time at all.

Before she's ready, the lock on YN's door clicks and swings open, and a procession of women in the same simple uniform Yoonji wears file in.

"Good morning, Madam," one of the ladies says, "Master Taehyung has sent us to prepare you for your wedding."

YN just blinks at them, sighing. When it's clear that YN isn't going to move on her own, one of the other ladies moves to her bedside and pulls the cover off of her frame. Someone brings a silken robe and glides it over her skin, tying it tightly around her waist.

YN winces as the silk digs into her sore spot but no one notices. They all crowd around her, bringing her into the massive closet and sitting her down in from of a giant vanity. They buzz around her like worker bees, discussing lipstick colors and hairstyles with fervor. YN doesn't pay them any attention, doing to her mental happy place.

In her head, she's back at university, studying for her degree and blissfully unaware of just how cruel the world can be.

The women move her face side to side as they pluck and wax and moisturize before applying what feels like a pound of makeup to her face. A few of them work on a manicure and pedicure while one picks out some lacy lingerie.

"Oh, Master Taehyung picked a beautiful one," the main lady says.

"You're so lucky, Madam," a different one says, "Master Taehyung is so handsome. Money, power, and good looks? What more could a girl want?"

She is dusting eyeshadow over YN's eyelids with a featherlight touch. It would be relaxing if YN wasn't about to marry a psychopath.

"Would you like to take my place then?" YN says before she can stop herself.

Bitterness overflows as they talk about YN's upcoming marriage as if she's a princess who's fallen in love with a charming prince.

The women fall quiet and an awkward silence blankets the room. YN opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, locking eyes with a very unamused Taehyung. He's hovering in the doorframe with a deadly look on his face. He stalks deeper into the room and places a hand on YN's shoulder, his expression brightening up as he looks at his workers.

"I love YN's sense of humor," he says, chuckling, "Isn't she so funny?"

Everyone joins in with superficial laughter but YN is petrified with Taehyung's hand on her. He doesn't squeeze or dig his nails into her as she expects but she doesn't trust him whatsoever.

"Would you mind leaving me alone with my fiancee for a few moments?" Taehyung says, "I want to say a few words to her before the wedding."

Despite the pleading look in her eyes, all of the women leave the two of them alone, even going so far as to shut the closet door behind them.

Taehyung lifts YN's face to look at her, reveling in the look of terror in her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, YN," he says, "When you stupidly burst into your parents' kitchen like a fool, I just knew that I wanted you. You're going to be so fun to destroy."

His touch is deceptively gentle.

"Why are you doing this?" YN asks, unable to look away from his deep gaze.

"Because I can," he says, "Because you don't want this. Any of the women affiliated with this gang would bend over backward for the position you're about to be forced into and yet here you are, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. What's life without a challenge?"

"I hate you," YN snaps, "I'll always hate you."

"That's perfectly fine by me, darling," Taehyung says, "Hate me as much as you want. Love doesn't exist here. As long as you do as I say, I don't care what you feel. As long as you know that you're mine, you can let your little heart turn black with hate."

He sinks his teeth into the lobe of her ear, causing YN to wince. He pulls away, a cocky look on his face.

"Piss me off and you know what happens. But don't worry, I'll never hurt you somewhere where other people will see."

He pushes away from the vanity and begins to walk back out of the closet.

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful in the dress I picked out, YN. I'll see you at the alter."

Taehyung is gone as quickly as he came and the annoying workers are back again, this time notably less chatty than before. They finish up her makeup and hair, smoothing away the small mistakes Taehyung had implemented and don't give her a stitch of privacy as they tie and buckle her into the most uncomfortable lingerie she's ever seen. The dress they pull out of a garment bag is not her taste whatsoever but she doesn't say anything. In a way, she's kind of glad. This wedding has nothing to do with her. All of her childhood fantasies seem a million miles away from this disaster.

The dress doesn't even fit. It's at least a size and a half too small but that doesn't stop them from shoving her into it, pulling on the laces until she can barely breathe. She can't even bend over to pull her shoes on.

Jungkook appears when they are all finished, wordless and stoic. He leads her out of the room and through what feels like a million hallways, YN's feet hurting in the incredibly tall heels she was put into. YN tries her best to memorize the map for future use (or maybe escape) but she gets so confused that she gives up. Something tells her that it's exactly what Jungkook was going for.

Surprisingly, they don't end up in some gigantic room in this mansion. Jungkook takes her to a garage, assisting her into the backseat and sitting beside her.

"Where are we going?" YN asks.

Jungkook doesn't answer.

For a moment, YN considers jumping out of the car. She knows she wouldn't even make it to the door before Jungkook snatches her. YN's eyes flick up to the front seat and she notices that the man driving is the same one as from before. She doesn't know his name but she doesn't have anything else to look at so she finds herself studying him through the rearview mirror. Unlike Jungkook who looks tough and stoic with his filled out form and dozens of tattoos, the driver looks soft - nearly pretty.

YN wonders how he ended up here. Is he just another wolf in disguise? Or maybe he's here in a similar situation to her, working off debt with labor.

As if he feels her eyes on him, the driver lifts his gaze and smiles at her ever so slightly, the very first inkling of kindness anyone has given her since this nightmare started. YN returns it, a small smile gracing her face.

The car pulls over in front of a small church, something much more subdued than she would have expected given the ridiculous place Taehyung and his family live in.

Jungkook helps her out of the car with an iron grip, preventing her from bolting. There's a small waiting room inside and a single woman in uniform is waiting for her with a beautiful bouquet that she shoves into her hands.

"Don't fuck up," Jungkook says again.

The church doors open.

Chapter Six

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Tag List

@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00 @naajix

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere taehyung #bts mafia au #bts gang au #bts angst #taehyung is a fucking narcissist

129 notes · View notes

nejiraez · 4 years

Text

boy, interrupted | bakugou katsuki

summary: bakugou manages to sneak his s/o away for some alone time. however, the universe thinks otherwise thus leading to a series of unfortunate events where he gets interrupted every. damn. time. you take it with a grain of salt, but bakugou is less than pleased~

warnings: GETS A BIT SUGGESTIVE. BLOCK THE TAG (just in case): ns//fw, even though it isn’t heavily used here, its to be safe

since im currently 18, CHARACTERS ARE 18/IN CLASS 3A

tags: @lleggs because that ASK sent back in dec was the spark of this just put a bt of a twist~ and @charvaughn-writes (because i remember you commenting to tag u if it was written!)

Bakugou liked being close to you. Emotionally, intellectually, all that.

But most of all, he enjoyed being physically close to and with you.

Whether it’d be through the form of hands brushing together, hugs, kisses or sleeping together, he gradually began to be more willing to sharing his affections with you.

All sat well with him as long as it wasn’t obnoxious forms of PDA.

This was why the two of you were currently locked away in his room engaging in a make-out session which all stemmed from when he was supposed to help you with your final project in your third year.

You were straddled on your boyfriend’s lap as you let him take the lead and pace of things. Wanting to go further, he glides a hand underneath your shirt, rubbing small circles on your sides. His fingertips skate across your skin, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface.

Yet, something pulls you away much to his dismay.

A knock at the door.

You make a move to pry yourself off from the male, however, he encircles his arms around your waist and keeps a tight hold.

Katsuki shakes his head, his eyes were half-lidded with grave desire. “Come back here,” he murmurs as he draws your face back to him again. He slips himself back into your mouth and proceeds to kiss you again.

He had hoped that the longer he ignored the knocking, the person would catch the hint and go away. But of course, luck doesn’t seem to be on his side.

Bakugou pulls away from your lips and glares at the door from over your shoulder. “For fuck's sake,” he curses, he was beginning to grow impatient each time the sound resonated throughout the room.

Bakugou growls in agitation at the fact that he now would have to leave his spot on the bed to go answer the door for the dumbass on the other side.

He lifts your hips off his and hisses at the lost contact. He spares you one last kiss to your jaw before he hoists himself off the mattress and stalks towards the door where the knocking was still persistent.

“What the fuck do you want??” He asks, barely opening the door for Kaminari to peer into his dimly lit room. He left it ajar to the point where the electric blond was only able to see Katsuki’s harsh vermillion eyes glaring back at him.

“Hey! I was wondering if I could borrow your notes for next week’s test...” He began, but his brows scrunch in confusion once he digests the sour expression on his friend’s face. “But you seem to be... um... busy?”

Katsuki’s eyes squint in scrutiny as he watches uncertainty wash over the male’s face. “What do you think,” he slightly cracks the door for him to peer in.

“Oh...” Kaminari says, slowly putting two and two together as his golden eyes dart from you seated on Katsuki’s bed to his friend’s dishevelled hair, light bruises scattered on his neck and the sweats which hung dangerously low on his hips. “OHH! Well, shit!”

“Yeah.”

Kaminari’s cheeks flush an embarrassed red as he reaches a hand towards the back of his neck to sheepishly rub at it. “Didn’t know, dude. You uh... keep doing what you’re doing - !”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou mutters under his breath at his friend’s lack of self-awareness. He clicks his tongue in annoyance and reaches for his door handle to shut him out.

“Get. Lost.” And with that, he forcefully slams the door closed in his face. This effectively sent the message through that his presence was definitely not needed, nor was it welcomed.

Maybe it was luck but the majority of class 3-A went out for the weekend doing God knows what.

Bakugou could care less as to what they did.

Ever since that idiot, Kaminari, barged into his dorm and managed to absolutely take the mood that was set and shoot a bullet through it, Bakugou figured that he’d be more careful this time around.

Where it would be just you and him. No fuck ass idiots coming in to ask for his notes or inviting you out.

Which was why you two were finally able to go farther than what was achieved last time.

“Can I-” Bakugou pauses and stabilizes himself by propping one of his hands next to your head. You can see the slight tremors in his body as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. “Can I move now?” He asked, to which you nodded your head giving him the green light.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, drawling out the last syllable of your name. He leans down and you feel one of his hands slide up from your waist and towards your back so that he may draw you closer. “You feel good.”

From the neck up you grew warm out how open your boyfriend was being with you right now. “That’s... that’s lewd, Katsuki...”

“I- fuck-” He gasps as he buries his face into your neck. You began to notice his tone of voice has changed, for it was more hitched and whinier. As if he needed release.

Katsuki’s breaths were beginning to grow more shallowed each time he entered you. “You’re really tight, (Y/N).”

That sentence alone caused you to break out into an embarrassed cold sweat. For him to be so open wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially when he got worked up like that.

You opened your mouth to respond, however, three sturdy knocks on your boyfriend’s door drew you away from what you were going to say.

You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s shoulder trying to garner his gaze towards his doorway, “K-Katsuki - !”

“Yeah, I know. I’m... I’m close too,” he pants, brushing your concern off for something else. For he was too lost in the moment and focused on the task at hand to pay attention to what was going on around him.

“No, Katsuki! I mean the door-”

And on cue the door swung open, allowing light from the hallway to spill into his room. This was all followed by the familiar voice Katsuki knew all too well. Kirishima. “Oi, Bakubro! You left your phone on the - !”

“Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout. GET. OUT!” Bakugou snapped, rapidly pulling his sweats back up to his hips and threw the sheets over your head to prevent you from being exposed.

He pushed the stunned redhead out from his room and into the hallway. With the door closed, he glares at his friend who still had that same dumb expression on his face.

Kirishima watches in complete shock and slight regret at how his buddy’s face bloomed a striking pink at the fact of being walked in on.

“What in the absolute fuck makes you think it’s okay for you to barge into my room?” Bakugou hisses. He began to tug and tie the strings of his sweats, tightening their hold on his waist.

Bakugou was livid. To be interrupted not once, but twice within the interval of 72 hours had him on edge. It was as if the universe was fucking with him.

“Well,” Kirishima swallows down the lump in his throat as he got up from his ass. Being trapped under Bakuou’s fiery gaze made him weary with what he would say next. “Your phone kept ringing out in the open and I know how you don’t like having your things messed with...”

“So you hear two people fucking and you don’t have the decency to, oh I don’t know... Leave?!!”

“I didn’t even know!”

“Bullshit!” Bakugou growls as he lunges at his best friend, who let out a pathetic scream in return. Kirishima successfully dodges his sudden attack and sprints down the hall towards the elevators.

Bakugou though, lost his interest and merely watches as he makes his sweet escape. “Idiot,” he grunts, turning his heel to head back into his room.

I’m friends with dumbasses, I swear. He had thought all while brutally slamming his door shut again for the second time that week.

A week has passed since the two incidents have occurred. Katsuki’s classmates in 3-A were able to note an alarming change in his behaviour. For he was more irritable and his responses were snappier than usual.

And rightfully so.

“Good morning Bakugou!” Kaminari greeted, waving at his friend who sat hunched over the kitchen counter on one of the leather barstools.

Katsuki briefly glanced up from his phone at the beckon of his name. A sharp eyebrow twitched in agitation and his jaw was clenched once he sees them approaching.

“‘Good morning Baku-’ shut the fuck up.” He mimicked before he hopped out from his seat and exited the kitchen. Clearly not wanting anything to do with his two perpetrators that have been interrupting his sessions with you.

“What’s gotten into him?” Mina questioned, watching their friend stomp out of the room, hands shoved harshly into his pockets as he muttered profanities under his breath.

“These two,” Sero begins, pointing between a flustered Kirishima and Kaminari, “have been cockblocking him this past week.”

“Unintentionally! Don’t forget ‘unintentionally’!” Kirishima added, burying his face into his hands to hide the red on his cheeks. “I never want to walk in on him like that ever again.”

Thus, the unspoken rule between the class was formed.

If you cannot find Bakugou Katsuki in the common space, kitchen area, or wherever, please, for the love of God do not go looking for him.

Or one will either walk into a scene they wish they hadn’t or they’d face Bakugou’s intimidating presence for the rest of the week.

#bnha imagine #bnha scenario #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #original #suggestive

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neutron-stars-blog · 3 years

Text

Love Lies Bleeding | PART I

(whump/hurt-comfort)

Dustin Hallows, an immortal human being whom the world has feared for centuries, finds a mysterious trespasser within his mountain laboratory. So he tortures him. As one does. Except this chapter doesn’t actually have the torture in it -- it just introduces my OCs and some foreshadowing occurs.

Warning(s): Gun, knife, (mentions of) torture, scars (from chemical burns), drugs/sedatives/needles, spiders/arachnophobia, blood (not overly graphic), mentions of a strip search which does not actually occur.

Let me know if you have questions about my content warnings or about my writing in general.

PART I

Failed typography: A literary analysis (that’s the chapter title)

Dustin's Point of View

I thought I would be celebrating the red, bleeding colours of the sunset that night. Dining with my closest acquaintances, staring in awe outside the penthouse windows, awaiting the darkness. I thought I would take a break from work. I thought I would sleep that night.

Instead, I spent the first few shifts of that night in one of the basement floors of the mountain, listening to the soft cries of an uncanny figure in the corner of the computer room.

"Please — Please don't come any closer. Stay back or I'll kill you."

I couldn't see much of the trembling thing standing before me, except for his bony fingers holding a vintage pistol to my forehead. His hand was violently shaking. The skin was dry, scratched, and blood-stained, indicative of something awful he must have been suffering through.

Instability. Pain. Trauma.

He was definitely human, but his presence was unexplainable. There was no civilization left outside of the mountain. Everyone else had faded away centuries ago.

Well, almost everyone. The people of the flatlands were still around, but they were as elusive as ever. Sometimes, it felt as if they had died out as well.

"Please," the stranger said, pressing his gun harder against my head. "Please, don't hurt me. Or I'll kill you."

I didn't think he was going to shoot me. From the way his fingers wrapped around the gun crookedly with one hand, it was evident he didn't even know how. From underneath the thin hood draped over his head the faint lights of the computer room glistened in his bloodshot, insomniac eyes.

I didn't speak. The sounds of his shallow breaths echoed through the darkness as he attempted to stifle his panic. Though it was immoral to admit, his fear was starting to evoke all sorts of emotional responses.

Pleasure. Pity. Fascination.

"Please, I swear—" he sniffled. His voice was breaking.

The second I made a step forward he flinched hard and the gun clattered to the floor. His eyes widened. He wrapped his arms around his body. I wanted to sit back and laugh at how scared and pathetic this stranger was, and with a twisted enjoyment watch him as he cried and begged for his life. But instead I selected a more cruel approach, pulling out my pocket knife with the intent to further his psychological pain.

I snatched his arm tightly and twisted it behind his back until his body stiffened, drawing my knife to his throat to threaten his miserable life. He briefly struggled, but stopped at the realization that he was far weaker than I was and any attempt at fighting against me would be futile.

"Listen," I whispered in his ear, pressing my knife harder against his neck. "You will do exactly as I ask, or I will break your bones and skin you alive."

From my grip on his wrist I could feel his pulse and knew that my threat caused further shots of panic to spread through his body. He nodded, but barely, to avoid cutting his throat. Apart from his nods and little trembles, he stood completely frozen.

"Good. Now take a deep breath," I whispered.

He obeyed. Since his back was turned to me, he was unable to see the bloodthirsty, devilish smile plastered on my face, savouring every fragment of this encounter to reminisce about later.

I felt the stranger's body slowly fall limp as I held him there. "God, I have so many questions to ask you," I said.

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry," came a soft, unexpected reply, "I'm sorry for breaking in. I'm sorry for what I did on your computer."

"Shush. It's okay." My head turned to the long message still displayed on the nearby computer screen. The text was too small to read, but there must have been paragraphs upon paragraphs if one were to take a closer look. "Tell me. Where are you from? The flatlands, I presume?"

Another pause.

"What—" He panicked, his heart speeding up. He was so pitiful. "I — I don't even know what that is."

I twisted his arm tighter, forcing a soft, pained whimper from his throat.

"You seriously expect me to believe that?" I asked.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Who else came with you?"

The stranger paused. His breathing was forced and erratic.

"There's no one. I'm alone."

"Liar."

"You can search the whole fortress," he stuttered, "I swear, there's no one with me."

"I know you're not working alone. You're just a frail little thing."

"I have employers, okay? But they're not here," he said. He began struggling to get out of my grip. "I was just sent here to follow instructions. And they said they'd come get me when everything was done."

"And where are they?"

"I don't know."

Would they ever show up? Probably not, my instincts told me. How sweet. A broken, bloodied thing, doing someone else's dirty work, now abandoned by his associates.

At that moment, my plans to celebrate the sunset slipped out of my list of priorities. I was ecstatic, excited for the endless hours I would spend questioning this mysterious, unidentifiable stranger. Finding out every single thing about him. About his motives. About his past. About his deepest fears and desires. Nevertheless, the underlying question haunted me and almost scared me: Where the hell did he come from?

I finally released the knife from his neck and dragged him out of the computer room, leaving his gun on the floor to remain in the bitter darkness.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked.

"The fourth floor. Very deep into the mountain," I said, "I'm taking you as a hostage."

Silence.

As we walked through the long, white hallways, the stranger obeyed my orders without resistance. He cried softly, but didn't speak. If his walking slowed down, I would tighten the grip on his arm and jerk him forwards, causing a sound to escape from his mouth, but no further complaints.

After making several turns we were greeted by the bittersweet light of the outside as we passed by a window that stretched over an entire hallway. The stranger gingerly ran his fingertips over the glass, tracing along the fractal-like designs formed by frost as he admired the icy mountains that surrounded this fortress, continuing to spread far into the distance. The scenic beauty of the northern mountains conveyed the most calming feeling, a shocking contrast to the boy's torturous fate. He stared in awe at the warm, vibrant colours of the sunset, knowing that this was probably his last glimpse of the outside world.

Minutes later, we passed by another window providing us a glance at one of the several artificial ecosystems I had developed — they were often the only way within my estate to experience the outdoors as exposure to the dangerously freezing temperatures of the northern mountains was hardly ever an option. Upon approaching the glass, the boy slowed down to stare inside with wide eyes. Massive, fruit-bearing trees filled the area and surrounded the panoramic, fairytale-like waterfall that towered over the walls. The view was almost ethereal. Mist filled the air and blurred the view of anything far off into the distance. The cold colours of the artificial lights were reflected in my hostage's face and for a second he didn't look like a terrified corpse.

Further into the ecosystem was where food was grown, farmed by those who lived with and worked for me, since I needed the fortress to be self-sustainable in case we were ever cut off from the trade agreement with the flatlands. I currently ordered most of my supplies through broadcasts from the computer room, and they would be shipped to me via aircraft, however I knew these imports wouldn’t last. Especially after the events from the past few hours.

Hell, given the state of this world I wasn’t even sure if humanity would last.

While I held the stranger by his arm, I felt him flinch at the realization that the window was wreathed in dark, monstrous spiders. Overshadowed by the scenery behind them, the little fuckers weren’t noticeable at first, however, a closer look revealed a myriad of the elusive creatures lurking within the glass. Spiders have always been fascinating to me. I love the way they spend hours fashioning the most intricate webs. The way they are so dainty yet so cunning. The way they tie up their prey, leave them struggling and fighting for survival, and inject venom into their helpless bodies until their insides are reduced to liquid mush. My hostage was trembling and I felt him shiver at the mere sight of the countless spiders that nested in the window. I was deeply entertained, wanting to laugh at his reaction to the captivating creatures but I instead only smiled to myself, knowing that he must have been so afraid of them.

How perfect.

Gripping him tighter, I jerked his body away from the window and dragged him inside a clean but cramped elevator. We would be travelling many floors down, heading deep underground. Once the doors closed, I let go of his arm. He immediately backed into a corner, holding on to the glass walls as if he couldn't stand on his own due to physical weakness, starvation, or sleep deprivation. I had no idea what he went through before he came here, but I knew I would find out eventually. As the elevator started moving, his entire body trembled and his eyes stared at the floor, not daring to meet mine.

It was then that I started to notice how small and scrawny the stranger was, and wondered who could have possibly sent him here. Maybe among the group of conspirators from the flatlands, he was the only person capable of completing the particular task at hand—but why would they send him here with no backup, rendering him entirely vulnerable and defenseless? Surely they must have known that I would likely torture and brutally kill him. The more I thought about it the less it made sense to me.

Throughout the rest of the elevator ride, I stood silently, toying with my pocket knife as I savoured the boy's crippling fear. I couldn't help but smile.

Once the doors opened, I quickly grabbed him again and he reluctantly followed me through the labyrinthine basement. The silence was unsettling. The only sounds that could be heard were light footsteps and the boy's rapid, shallow breaths. We soon reached the end of the hallway we were walking through and I scanned my fingerprint over a door labeled 'room 404.'

The electronic door unlocked, and I pushed my hostage inside. When I let go of his arm, he weakly collapsed onto the floor, trembling. As I cuffed his wrists and ankles, he didn't protest or fight back. He simply kept his head down and softly whimpered as I dragged him by the chains until he was lying against a wall.

"Stay right there," I mumbled, "and try not to struggle too much."

I pulled out my communications device and called Cherry, the head of my scientific research department. I requested several things. My laptop. My reading glasses. A printout of the stranger's cryptic broadcast. I briefly mentioned the stranger. Her voice on the other end muttered a quick "okay, goodbye" before she hung up.

I turned towards him, the weird little stranger, crumpled on the floor.

"Hello," I said. I flashed him a quick smile. "Are you excited for the sunset?"

"The what?"

"The sunset. Those pretty colours in the sky. You kept staring at them earlier."

"I didn't know what they were." He took a heavy breath. I noticed he was fidgeting with the chains that bound him. "The sky isn't supposed to look like that. Is the world ending?"

I grinned. "It is for you."

He looked confused. So fucking confused.

Minutes later, Cherry entered.

"Hello, Dustin. Hello, prisoner," she mumbled, placing things into my hands. "Laptop, glasses, printout. Here you go."

I examined the printout of the message broadcasted from the computer room. An unfamiliar location code was printed at the top. Nevertheless, the body of the message was the focus of my attention. Obviously, from scanning through it, it was clear it was supposed to be a copy of one particular research paper from the library: a document from my medical research titled, "The effects of slow-working poisons: Investigations of possible treatments."

The issue wasn't the content, however, but rather how it was composed. Typos and mistakes were scattered throughout the message. Words were missing. Sometimes, letters were swapped out for numerals and vice versa.

It was the most unusual thing.

Cherry was about to leave when I grabbed the sleeve of her lab coat. "Wait, stay," I whispered, glancing back at the prisoner. "I'm kind of creeped out all of a sudden. This kind of typography isn't normal."

"Is it not?"

"I don't think so. These mistakes are too uncommon and too repetitive. It might not be as surface level as we think — maybe he sent them a code of some sort."

"Or maybe his wrists were broken."

I paused. I thought about the way he walked and the way he held that gun. It was like he was broken. "Remind me to do scans of his body. There might be some truth to what you're saying."

Cherry walked over to him and nudged him with the tip of her boot. "Get up," she mumbled. She wasn't rough or harsh with him, yet he winced and wrapped his arms around himself. "Get up," she repeated, pulling the chains on his wrists and forcing him to stand.

"Cherry, what are you doing?"

"Just examining him. Where's he from?"

"The flatlands," I said, "he must be."

"Oh, how creepy," she said, "a ghost from the dead, forgotten lands."

Cherry sometimes joked that the people of the flatlands had died out centuries ago and that all this time, we had been corresponding with the ancient signals and broadcasts they've left behind. Had it not been for the trade agreement we had with them, I would have accepted her theory as plausible. The civilizations of the flatlands were about as elusive as they could get. We knew nothing about their identity, their exact location, or their history. They didn't allow us to.

She began moving her hands over his arms, starting at his wrists and going deeper under his sleeves. At every spot, she squeezed him tightly, digging her thumbs into his forearms.

He tried to pull away. He cried. "Fuck — it hurts!"

"God, Cherry, what are you doing to him?"

"Nothing, just examining him," she said sharply. "There. Nothing's broken." She pulled down the prisoner's sleeves before I could see if she was too harsh, to see if she had left any marks on him. "He's definitely not from the flatlands. He can't be."

"How do you know?"

"He just can't be!"

"Where else could he have come from?"

"From inside the fortress, maybe?" Cherry suggested, "perhaps someone had a kid and hid him from us."

"What? We would have found out somehow." I mean, I knew the residents of the fortress were scared of us. If they cared about their kid, of course they would try to protect him from us. Who wouldn't? But they would never be able to hide him for so long. For what, twenty years, give or take? We would have found out.

I shook my head. "No," I said.

I looked back at the prisoner. He had already sat back down, face buried in his arms, shielding himself.

"Where are you from?" I demanded.

"I can't tell you!" His voice was cracking.

I approached him, kneeled down, and grabbed him by the hair. I tilted his head back painfully. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to force it out of you."

He flinched. "Please—"

I let him go.

"Cherry," I said, "could you pass me a needle? They're on the top shelf. I want to run some medical tests on him."

She mumbled an "okay" and began rummaging through the cabinets.

The chamber was rather small, but the space was efficiently used, with all sorts of appliances and medical devices arranged neatly in drawers and collections of drugs and surgical tools organized in the cabinets above. Though I found the room to be aesthetically pleasing, it still held an atmosphere that felt cold and sterile.

"What do you plan on doing?" Cherry asked.

"I want to search him," I said, "then take x-rays of him and what-not. He'd be too shaky for that, so I want to put him to sleep."

I put on gloves and prepared a syringe of a weak sedative, making sure the dosage wasn't overly drastic before I approached my terrified prisoner.

He briefly cried out in pain as I grabbed him by the hair again and forced him into a seated position. His breathing quickened but he was far too weak to put up a fight. I picked up one of his wrists, lifting up the sleeve of his hoodie, and immediately gasped in shock at his damaged, mutilated skin.

His entire forearm was covered in dry, irritated, peeling flesh, some parts oozing and infected. It was awful.

"Are those chemical burns?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Was it an accident? Or did someone do this to you?"

Again, there was no response.

When he finally saw the contents of my hand his eyes widened and he flinched away from me, making me realize that he likely had a fear of needles.

How precious.

Before I injected him with the sedative I told him to close his eyes, which he fearfully obeyed, and I muttered that this wasn't going to hurt him in the slightest bit. That statement wasn't a lie. I knew that the needle was completely painless and was nothing compared to what I would be doing to him over the next few shifts. After removing the syringe, I rolled his sleeve back down to hide the brutal scars on his arm and laid him down gently on the floor to wait for the drugs to set in.

I had no doubt that he recognized me from the way he looked at me with pure fear in his eyes. He knew exactly who I was. His breaths were shallow and shaky as he brought his hands to his mouth, biting at the skin around his fingernails until I could see traces of blood on his lips. He was terrified and rightfully so. With a sick fascination I observed his pathetic yet intoxicating agony.

"You'll start to feel a little drowsy," I said, "it's okay, it's normal."

Minutes passed until his trembling finally stopped and the sudden absence of fear made him appear almost calm. I pressed my fingers against his neck to check his pulse and felt a slow, steady heartbeat. I also shook him roughly to make sure he was really unconscious and was met with a soft groan but no further movement. He was almost asleep. I knew that he would remain sedated for another hour or so, which provided me with more than enough time to think through all of the horrible things I would do to him once he woke up. A sinister smile started creeping onto my lips.

I really did love my job.

As my prisoner lay there completely unconscious I peeled the sweat-drenched hair from his forehead and ran a finger down his innocent-looking, delicate face.

At that point I took the opportunity to search his outside pockets for any weapons or identification, but I couldn't find anything. Earlier, I had planned to conduct a more thorough strip search, but I changed my mind. Practically violating him while he was unconscious and unaware just didn't sit right with me. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't even want to look at him. Besides, I was tired.

I sat down next to him, leaning against the wall. I noticed that Cherry had already left.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at the stranger's frail, unconscious body before looking away. "Hopefully I'll be finished with you before the sun goes down."

I really thought I would be celebrating the red, bleeding colours of the sunset that night. But in the end, I suppose, the red, bleeding wounds of my terrified prisoner would have to do.

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ejzah · 4 years

Note

Can you do a fanfic where Kensi is forced to work together with an old NCIS rival and she is furthered annoyed when she begins making moves on Deeks despite them being married.

“Did Hetty say who we’re meeting?” Deeks asked as he and Kensi walked into a five star hotel. They were supposed to meet Hetty, along with some other agent who they would be working with on an undercover case. Deeks would be going under as a high stakes lawyer, while Kensi played his assistant.

She knew he was looking forward to this case. It wasn’t supposed to be terribly dangerous and they would spend the majority of the time together. All while staying in a $700 a night hotel.

“No, but she said she’s in high demand at several agencies,” Kensi answered as they took an elevator to suite 317. She glanced over at Deeks; he wore a black suit with a light blue shirt and a black tie. Hetty had certainly outdone herself this time. Kensi let her eyes drift down to his impeccably tailored trousers, which clung to his legs. “Your tie’s crooked.”

He turned, giving her better access and she straightened it, letting her fingers linger at his collar. “Mm, much better,” she murmured.

“Sugar Bear, if you keep looking at me like that, our new colleague is going to figure out why no one wants to share a room with us,” he said, grinning shamelessly at her. He was doing his own share of ogling.

“That would be very unprofessional, Mr. Deeks. Especially since I’m your employee.” Kensi shot him a coy look, wondering if she could convince Hetty to loan them their outfits after the case was over.

Deeks wiggled his eyebrows at her while he stuck the keycard Hetty gave them in the locking mechanism to room 317. He gave a perfunctory knock before opening the door.

Hetty was sitting in a small living room across from another woman who had her back to them. All Kensi could see was the leg of a charcoal gray pant leg and red hair. Hetty waved them in and stood.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, gesturing for the other agent to stand. “Special Agent Mallory Weaver, this is Detective Marty Deeks and-“

“Kensi Blye,” she interrupted as Kensi smiled tightly, recognizing the other woman as well.

“You know each other?” Deeks asked.

“Oh we go way back,” Mallory said. “Kensi and I attended FLETC together. We were always neck and neck, weren’t we?” She tilted her head slightly, looking Kensi up and down in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable.

The Mallory Kensi remembered had blonde hair and spent 80% of her time in agency provided workout gear. Despite the differences in appearance, she still carried herself with the same aloofness and self-assuredness Kensi remembered. She was also impeccably dressed; her blazer and pants didn’t have a single crease and would have passed even Hetty’s stringent expectations.

“We might have been a little competitive,” Kensi acknowledged. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, it was.” She turned to Deeks then, her expression calculating. “Did Hetty say you were a detective?”

“Yeah, I’m the team’s LAPD liaison,” he replied, reaching to shake her hand. “Nice to me you, Agent Weaver.”

“And a former lawyer,” Hetty added, bringing the introductions to an end. “Which is why he is perfect for this operation.”

“Well, then let me catch you up on the what our goal is for today,” Mallory said, taking charge.

***

“So, how long have you and Deeks been working together?” Mallory asked as they prepared the technology they’d be using for the operation. Hetty had left a few minutes before and Deeks was in the master bedroom making a call.

“Over 10 years,” Kensi answered, a little surprised that Mallory was showing an interest. From past experience, she tended to be singled minded.

“Wow, that’s quite a commitment.” They were silent for another minute and then she asked, “Is he in a relationship? I don’t usually prefer men with long hair, but the way he fills out a suit...I’m willing to look past it.”

“Actually, he’s married.” Kensi only imagine Deeks’ expression if he knew Mallory was interested in him.

“Really? I didn’t see a ring. Maybe he’s not as committed as you think.” Mallory smirked at that and Kensi felt her annoyance rising.

“We don’t wear our rings on the job,” Kensi said, emphasizing the word “our”. Just in case she missed the hint, Kensi gave her a pointed look.

Mallory raised her perfect eyebrows and then laughed incredulously.

“You and Deeks are married?” she asked, with an insulting amount of disbelief. “Wow, I did not see that coming. I remember you were the girl who couldn’t make it past one date with a guy.”

“Well, like we said, that was a long time ago. I’m sure we’re both very different women than we were back then.”

“That seems pretty obvious. I always imagined you doing more with yourself than this, but I guess some people are willing to settle.”

Kensi held back a nasty comment, knowing it would only encourage Mallory.

***

“Marty, what made you switch from lawyer to cop?” Kensi heard Mallory asking Deeks as she came out of one of the massive suites.

“I was working as a public defender and got sick of watching criminals go free,” Deeks explained, shrugging self-deprecatingly. “And then a few years later, Hetty snapped me up.”

Kensi walked into the room, quietly gathering a comm device she would need later when they met their contact. Deeks was reviewing the details of the fake portfolio Eric and Nell had set up for him. He’d pushed the couch and armchairs in the living room to the side and moved the small dining table to the middle of the room. Mallory say next to him, peering over his shoulder, a little closer than Kensi would have liked.

“Yes, as LAPD Liaison.” Somehow Mallory managed to make it sound laughable. “You should consider joining my team.” From her peripheral vision, Kensi saw her touch Deeks’ arm, lingering on his bicep.

“I didn’t realize you had a team.” It was a non-committal statement, neither expressing interest or a direct refusal. Mallory made a negligent sound.

“Oh, I’ve been toying with the idea of forming one. We should talk about it over dinner sometime,” she continued. She leaned closer, adding, “I know this fantastic place that makes the most delicious tiramisu.”

“Well, that sounds lovely,” Deeks said. “But I’m pretty busy.”

“You should take some time off. Everyone needs a break.” Kensi watched her hand drop to his thigh and squeeze. “You could even stay at my condo on the beach.” Deeks made a sound that was something between a cough and a laugh.

Unable to take it any longer, Kensi turned around and headed back into the the bedroom. There was a small terrace that looked out on the beach and she slammed the sliding door open, not even caring if Mallory heard. Or what she thought.

Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes, clamping her fingers around the wrought iron railing. The metal biting into her fingers was oddly grounding. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before the door slid open again.

“So, uh, you ok?” Deeks asked. She opened her eyes, resisting the urge to snap at him. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I’m fine.” He came closer, leaning with his back against the railing.

“Yeah, you know I’m not buying that.” He waited for her to respond and when she didn’t, he nudged her knee with his. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you and Agent Weaver?”

“You mean aside from her hitting on you and pawing your thigh?” she bit out, surprised he needed to ask.

“You know I don’t like it and would never do anything to encourage her,” he said. He actually looked worried and she rolled her eyes, turning to face him.

“Of course I do. I trust you completely.”

“Then what’s the problem? Women hit on me pretty frequently and you don’t get this upset.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Kensi sarcastically. “Maybe the fact that she knows we’re married and still tried to get you to come to her condo on the beach? While I was standing right there. She didn’t even have the decency to wait until I was out of the room.” She felt a little petty for saying it, but couldn’t seem to stop.

“Ever since we were in training together, she’s tried to one up me. You and this case are just another chance to prove that she’s superior.”

“Hey,” Deeks said, tipping her chin up. “You do not need to prove yourself to this woman or anyone else.”

“She makes me feel inadequate,” she admitted quietly. Deeks made a noise in the back of his throat and gathered her against his chest.

“Kensi Marie Blye, you are an amazing woman in so many ways. Your intelligence and strength and compassion astound me every day. And there’s a thousand other things I could say about you, but then we’d be here all night.”

Her throat tightened a little with emotion at the love and truth she heard in Deeks’ words. He pulled back, cupping her face between his palms.

“You are perfect exactly as you are,” he added. “Don’t let some woman who doesn’t know you and hasn’t seen you in a decade make you think otherwise.”

“Thank you, baby,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against his. They stayed that way for a minute until she sighed. They would need to go back inside soon. “She just knows how to push all my buttons.”

“Hey, of she says anything else rude, I’ll beat her up,” Deeks promised. She snorted at that, patting his chest.

“Babe, you would never beat up a woman.”

“That’s true, but I can make nasty faces at her while you take her down.”

“You are so ridiculous,” she sighed. “But you always know just what to say to make me feel better.”

“That’s my job,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

***

A/N: Thanks for the prompt! I hope this came off alright without making Kensi seem petty or something.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #is this angst?#I don’t know #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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theluckyyyoneee · 4 years

Text

Guise

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst/Fluff(in later parts)

Word Count: 2.4+k

part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 |

SoulmateAU! Where he hides his soulmate tattoo from everyone, especially you.

Twirling your mechanical pencil around between your middle and pointer finger of your right hand, you zoned off into the great distance, eyeing the chipping paint on the walls as you felt utterly drained and exhausted, in all physical, mental and emotional senses.

The life of a rushed college student trying to find the right balance between studying and self care and also incorporating enough of a social life to remain sane was seemingly impossible, and you were terrible at time management as you proved to yourself time and time again. Especially when finals were approaching at a fearful rate and you felt like you hadn’t prepared nearly as much as needed to ace the exams.

Huffing as you collapsed onto the desk in front of you, you heard the throaty chuckle besides you as you peered at Namjoon through your lashes and a few strands of wild hair that crept on your cheeks. “Take a nap, I’ll wake you up in thirty minutes. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He sweetly offered, his dimples popping through as he eye smiled at you through his own fatigue.

Propping your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the table, you couldn’t help but observe the deadly handsome and gentle man next to you.

He was such a good guy, you mused as you watched his profile, his own tattoo placed behind his right ear that would eventually bond him with his ‘soulmate’, a being who the universe had decided all on their own that would complete and make the other person happy. You wondered what kind of person his soulmate was.

Namjoon and you were so close, you two had bonded over each other’s respective clumsiness and forgetfulness in your freshman year of college, yet you found it a bit odd how you didn’t really know his stance on the whole soulmate thing. He never talked about the physically minuscule mark on his body that would have an enormous role in his life. Always presented a stoic, almost indifferent expression when he laid eyes upon the numerous couples along campus, never had expressed any longing towards a significant other either.

“Can I ask you something?”

He childishly snickered a little and gazed down at you with that attractive little smirk (authors note: omg imagine if he rlly looked at u like that id be dead) he did when he was about to tell a predictable joke. “You just did.” You mouthed the words along with him and rolled your eyes at him, a smile finding your lips anyway. He nodded at you and waited expectantly and suddenly you found yourself the tiniest bit shy.

Briefly pondering what would have happened if the two of you somehow shared the same tattoo, if somehow the two of you were each other soulmates. Would he had hid it if he noticed it before you did like Yoongi? No, you reasoned, he wasn’t that kind of person. He preferred to confront situations head on. Maybe you wouldn’t have hated the idea so much if you had a soulmate like Namjoon.

Instead the universe deemed your ‘perfect other half that will definitely complete you’ as an egotistic, douchebag named Min Yoongi.

“What do you feel about the whole soulmate thing?” Your voice was as small as a mouse and you saw his face drop a bit from his peaceful expression, making you tilt your head in confusion. His jaw tightened and his overall presence and posture suddenly became very rigid.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to his studies as he answered with stiff casualness, “I don’t really have an opinion on it. I’ll worry about it when it happens.”

You could tell that he seemed very uncomfortable with the topic and you wanted to apologize for ruining the light atmosphere. It all of a sudden felt thick with tension between the two of you and you had no idea why.

So you hummed as nonchalantly as you could and turned away, “Ah, I see...” reminding and praying that you remembered to try and get Namjoon to open up a bit when he was ready.

But for now you turned away to your own notes and thought of your own predicament you were dealing with.

Keeping your lips sealed after what happened in that cursed classroom a few weeks ago, you had told no one and determined that it was just a bad nightmare, an irrational and delusional nightmare you wanted to forget ever having.

Namjoon was Yoongi’s friend... kind of. Well, you knew that they at least tolerated each other.

Should you just tell Namjoon what had occurred and ask for advice about what to do next?

No, let’s not make him even more uncomfortable, you sighed and laid your head back on the desk and allowed your dreary eyelids to shut as you recalled what happened that dreaded afternoon.

You really did not want to believe it.

Even if it turned out to be true, you wanted to run away even if it was cowardly but before you even knew what the hell you were doing, you were taking large strides to Yoongi’s frozen figure in the seat, both gasping at the shock and warm sensation you felt from finally making physical contact for the first time.

You had heard people talking about it, how the two persons involved felt electrified and so connected to each other and their bond. And although you couldn’t really argue with that statement, you didn’t feel particularly too connected to him at that moment. You guessed the emotions were consequences of the particular revelation.

Yes, his skin was smooth and warm to the touch, and an insane part of you had the idea to run your fingers down his wrist to meet his own in an intertwined embrace. Until the more rational side, your preferred and more dominant side, clued in the jagged and broken pieces as best as it could and suddenly everything made sense, heart thundering in your chest as you broke down your late epiphany as best as you could.

Throwing his arm down harshly, you couldn’t get the image of your tattoo out of your head-the one slightly bigger than an inch-the one you somehow shared with the man in front of you. Only now were you able to decipher the strange intricate lines-it had been both of your initials in some abstract handwriting.

Looking back at it now, you felt like such an idiot to not see the MYG that was so blatantly and obviously there, mocking you, forever etched on your skin, not at all welcomed there.

Releasing a shaky exhale as you tried your hardest to remain calm, you stared at Min Yoongi, that damned loon that somehow thought it a good idea to keep such an important detail to himself, had still not moved from his frozen stature and had dark, wide unblinking eyes stare frightened back at you.

“You’re my soulmate?” As soon as the words escaped your lips, it felt all wrong. “How long have you known?”

How long had you known him for?

Why was it him?

Imitating a fish, his mouth opened and shut numerous times before uttering, “Since the day we met.”

The memory burned fresh in your brain. You had been completely and immediately enamored with him at the first glance of him, and had the vaguest feeling that your feelings were mutual. When he had suddenly grew even paler than he already was and his lovely eyes widened to their maximum extent, you wanted to ask what the matter was, your soulmate tattoo subconsciously in full view.

Until he gazed at you like you had just cursed him out with your finest curse, most disgusting insults. It had oddly felt like he took part of your soul with him when he disappeared that day.

It had seemed he was avoiding you every time he caught a glimpse of you, there was no chance in hell you were going to get to know him better if you couldn’t even get closer than twenty feet of him. One second you were making eye contact with him, then the next he was pressed against some girl all the while keeping gazes with you, not understanding why your stomach would knot in jealousy and loneliness, when normally you were not like this at all.

“You...” He had known all this time. Of course, why would he suddenly start to wear all those hoodies and sweaters in this scorching heat, with beads of sweat clinging to his temple? How he always seemed to claw at his sleeves whenever you were near? How the gorgeous girls he had flirted with in front of you filled with such insecurities just from looking from afar?

Min Yoongi was your soulmate?

What a joke.

“You knew this whole time?” You stupidly had finally spit the whole phrase out into the open air, the silence deafening as the two of you faced each other, each heart thundering in your chests.

Yoongi had finally risen from his fixed posture at the desk and stood up, taking a tentative step forward before stumbling back a few shaky steps.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You hated that you sounded so pathetic, so desperate even to yourself.

It wasn’t as if you had even wanted to meet your soulmate, the fact that he hid it from you probably meant that he didn’t want you, right? So you should be happy you weren’t tied to someone who was going to tie you to him, but why did the thought of him possibly not wanting you break your heart into pieces?

Maybe there was such a thing as a soulmate bond after all, if your whole being was being torn like this, this much.

His demeanor seemed to change in an instant, and he had lost all past vulnerability and uncertainty. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed on you he spat out, “You think this makes sense?” He gestured between the two of you quickly, trying to keep his voice low in case any other students were lingering out in the halls, although unlikely, and you could sense his shame from where you were standing. “Us? That you’re my soulmate?”

It was like the roles had reversed and now you were the frozen one, an ache formed deep in your stomach as you registered his words. But they were the ones you had wanted to say to him a few minutes ago, so why were you feeling this way?

“I’ll tell it to you straight,” he continued, not giving you a moment to collect yourself. “I don’t want people finding out you’re my soulmate. It’s embarrassing, and since you never bothered to hide it, I have to.” He bent down and grasped his discarded hoodie from the ground and shook it in your direction. “Do you know how fucking bothersome is it to always have to wear this twenty four seven? In this weather? Huh?”

You didn’t bother answering, feeling yourself get worked up over his words had you breaking out of your moment of dejection and nodded, exhaling harshly. Right, you could overcome this. But first you had to show him that you weren’t just going to stay silent and weak when he was insulting you.

Embarrassing? He was embarrassed of you? He should have just told you when he had first found out, that way things wouldn’t have been this twisted. The two of you could have coolly and casually gone your separate ways, but for some reason you felt betrayed.

“Look, we have nothing in common, and to be honest, this whole soulmate shit is really fucking unfair.” It seemed he was becoming a bit drained, like his newfound energy had dissipated as fast as it had come.

“I wouldn’t say we have nothing in common,” you trailed off, meeting his glare with one of your own, though his faltered a bit at your unexpected words, looking at you the tiniest bit puzzled. A bitter smile gracing your lips, you raised your eyebrows a bit as you continued, gaining a bit of satisfaction at the look of surprise on Yoongi’s face. “It’s not like I want you, either.”

“Y/N wake up.” You were being shook gently back and forth by Namjoon, his dimpled smile being the first sight you see when you open your eyes. He chuckled under his breathe as you sluggishly lift your weary body up, and groaning in pain as you feel one your ribs were pressing on the edge of the table, an ache forming and stabbing every time you moved. Sitting up, you noticed a very familiar light cardigan draped around your shoulders, and you gaze starstruck and touched up at Namjoon, silently thanking him for covering you, knowing you always got cold when you slept.

He ruffled your hair affectionately in answer as you attempted to rub the remaining sleepiness from your eyes and fix your appearance so it was more presentable, handing the cardigan back to him. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you,” he smiled apologetically. “but the library is closing soon, and I’d feel better if you slept in your own bed instead of this stiff chair.”

It was only then you noticed the lack of people around and you felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks, wondering why if you had slept so long why you felt even more exhausted than before. “Thanks, and sorry for making you study by yourself...” you trailed off, standing up and slinging your bag on your shoulder as the two of you slowly made your way out of the library, nodding politely to the librarian behind the wide oak desk.

“No worries, but I do expect some coffee from you tomorrow, just saying.” It had gotten a bit dark and there was a bit of a breeze and you froze as Namjoon suddenly draped the cardigan over your shoulders once again. Your fingers met when you both fixed the collar and it made you grip the fabric tighter around yourself when he quickly pulled away, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.

You agreed to his proposition as casually as you could and stumbled a little when you made eye contact with the one and only Min Yoongi, who was also just seemed to leaving for the day, his strong gaze alternating between you and Namjoon, and the cardigan around your shoulders.

wow i have not written this much in a really long time so i’m actually pretty proud of myself lol. lmk what u guys thought down in the comments or messages! as always thanks to everyone who is reading and to everyone who left those supportive comments they really made my day and i appreciate all of you!!<3

T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .

tag list: @hoodiebangtan @xanny91 @babeejeon @chocolatemilk1221 @fuckthatfeeling @cremextart @secretlypg95 @littlegryffindorsavage @paracii @tragicrosemoons @sunshinein17 @xxluckydreamsxx @skzleaf @lidda @thesugatoyourtae @marycarabell @pawschimchim

#bts #bts au #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts suga #suga #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts namjoon #bts x reader #bts angst #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #kpop scenarios

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scripttorture · 4 years

Note

1/? I have a character who has been caught up in a war between planets ever since he was a child. He was out into hiding from the age of 10 to 16, before watching his younger brother killed by the person prosecuting them and elder sister sell her planet (she's heir basically) to save his life and swore herself loyal to the person to save herself.

2/? (She isn't loyal, but she'd be killed otherwise.) The character is then sent to grow up on a different planet, with his mother who figureheads a resistance against the people who took the characters sister and killed his brother. That's basic backstory continuing the character eventually gets captured again, and it taken to a prison. The character is tortured in the prison bc he killed several very important people and cut off the hands of another. 3/? Its seen (by the torturers i suppose, or at least the woman ordering them to do so) as rightful punishment. I havnt quite hashed out exactly what the torture is other than he definitely by the end has rather severe nerve damage in his hands from the shackles and chronic pain/weakness in one of his legs from something or another. Anyway the characters sister was put in charge of this prison, 4/5 and has no choice but to stand by and watch as the character is tortured. She does her best to make sure he isn't killed and the character knows she has no choice but to let them hurt her bc she is just as much of a prisoner as him, albeit in an entirely seperate way. She could stop the torture, and she could get him out, but she would be killed for it and he knows it. Im just wondering if he would blame her, 5/5 because she is in charge and could stop it. But she would be killed and it would likely end with them both dead. She cares for him when she can which isn't often bc she isn't exactly allowed too. Would he blame her I suppose? She has never hurt him, but lets it happen.

Alright I understand what you’re going for here.

It’s not the kind of situation that’s common enough for there to be systematic studies. Most of the time torturers and their victims don’t have a close relationship. It’s much more common to find cases where they were strangers or acquaintances prior to torture then close family or friends.

This doesn’t make this a bad idea. It just means that there aren’t definitive answers. I’m working from a handful of anecdotes and extrapolating from other things.

Even if this was a more common situation I don’t think you’d find many definite answers because individual variation would probably play a huge role.

Torture changes things for survivors in a lot of unpredictable ways. While we know the possible symptoms what any individual ends up experiencing is unpredictable. And how well people cope with mental health problems, and how that in turn impacts their relationships is dependant on the person. Someone’s personal experience, friends, support network, work, general knowledge and a host of other things can effect these sorts of outcomes.

Having that person also be tangentially involved in the survivor’s torture complicates things even further.

What I’m trying to say is that there are a lot of plausible outcomes here and I think that makes this a writing question rather then a realism question. So the real focus is: what works best with the character?

Blame is definitely possible in the scenario you’ve created but it doesn’t have to be straight-forward or simple.

For instance the character might blame her while knowing logically that there’s nothing else she could do without putting both of them in more danger. And that could make him feel conflicted about blaming her, possibly feeding into self-blame as well. He could openly blame her, or he could hide his feelings for a variety of reasons.

He might feel angry, that she’s ‘safer’ or that she can’t protect him. Or just because she ‘stands by’ and watches him at his worst. He might even come to hate her.

But it’s also possible that he wouldn’t associate her with the torturers or guards and would view her more as a fellow (though perhaps favoured) prisoner. He might pity her. He might feel sympathetic towards her plight.

He could plausibly have no strong feelings towards her at all.

Whatever emotional response you think is best it’s important to tie it to what’s come before in the story.

However you look at things he’s been away from his sister for a long time. It’s not clear to me how much time they spent together growing up (they could have been apart since he was 10 from the sounds of things).

If they spent a lot of their childhood apart they may not have a close relationship to begin with. I don’t think that would make a particular response more likely but it could mean he has a less intense response to her presence generally. If they weren’t close before then he might not feel her presence is particular significant.

If they were close then I think it’s a good idea to look back over the story. Read their interactions again and try to get a clear picture in your mind of what their relationship was before.

Whatever happens you’re writing the process of how that relationship changes. And it’s really helpful to have a clear idea of where you’re starting from first. I personally find it helpful to have a clear idea of where I want to end up as well but some people prefer a more exploratory style where they find out where the characters end up as they write.

It doesn’t matter which approach works better for you, what matters is that the intervening steps, the process of the relationship changing, are clear and understandable to your readers. And preferably pack a heavy emotional punch as well.

So if blame is the result you want (if it isn’t use this as an example and apply the same process to the emotional response you want) think about what aspects of their relationship could feed into that.

If they had a competitive or slightly antagonistic relationship then it might feel natural for him to place some blame on her. After all it’s probably an established pattern from their relationship. If he saw her as a protector and relied on her to keep him safe then this might feel like a huge betrayal.

If they had a really loving, tender relationship then you might want to lean in to the illogical nature of the response. It might even be a good idea to have the character acknowledge (internally or verbally) that this isn’t a sensible response. And yet this does not make the feeling go away.

With a more distant relationship did he feel like she betrayed her people or her family by ‘giving up’, regardless of how desperate the situation was? Or did he (as a kid raised in the rebellion) mostly view her as a prisoner?

If he saw her as a prisoner and felt pity for her would that vanish as she stands by while he suffers? Or would it seem to confirm what he already thought; that she’s helpless, powerless.

Find some part of their previous relationship that you can tie to this new set of feelings. Or acknowledge that it’s not a sensible response and have the character deal with more complex feelings as a result.

Mostly try to resist the idea that there’s a ‘right’ response for your character to have.

Try not to suggest in the story that there is one ‘proper’ response for a survivor to have. Because they are a varied bunch. People can live through more or less the same thing and come out with very different attitudes or perspectives as well as symptoms.

The response you write should be the one that works best with your characters and the story you want to tell. Don’t feel you must use blame. Instead think about whether it adds to your story: does it create interesting character moments, obstacles for the characters or feed into the plot?

You’re the person who knows what’s best for the story and what will work best with the characters. Be open to multiple options. Take your time and think through what works best.

For the character himself it’s possible (may be likely) that he’d already have some trauma symptoms before he’s captured.

I get the impression you’ve probably already seen the Masterpost on common trauma symptoms, but here it is for the new readers. :)

For the physical injury pattern you’ve got multiple options.

I think that really severe nerve damage suggests something more then shackles. Unless something went wrong.

The easiest way to get both injuries in your character would be a suspension torture that was more common historically. Victims had their hands tied together in front of them, were hoisted anywhere between a few feet and two meters in the air and then dropped.

This causes nerve damage in both hands and could cause breaks or fractures in the legs. Either could lead to chronic pain.

Suspension without the drop would still cause nerve damage in about 15-20 minutes.

Nerve damage is less common with restraints but it is still possible. Ratcheting cuffs that can tighten are more likely to cause nerve damage, especially if they’re applied too tightly over a long period.

Other dangerous things that can happen with those sorts of restraints being too tight- Broken wrists and reduced circulation leading to painful swelling in the hands (look up ‘finger milking’ in my tags for more information).

Over longer periods (multiple hours with the cuffs tight enough to cause swelling in the hands) blood clots might form and that uh… really dangerous. Basically if large blood clots start forming in a limb due to reduced circulation then they either block the blood vessels (which kills the limb and leads to amputation) or the clot gets swept back into the body when the restraints are removed. The clot usually then lodges in the brain or the heart causing a stroke or a heart attack respectively.

I’d say suspension probably works better for your purposes.

Standing stress positions can lead to chronic pain in the legs. But it often also effects the back and usually effects both legs.

Falaka might work. It’s beating the soles of the feet with an implement. Depending on the implement it can be clean, scarring or even lethal. With a harder implement like a wooden stick it can lead to fractured or broken bones in the feet.

But even when falaka is performed in a ‘clean’ manner it can lead to chronic pain. It causes a thickening of the tendons in the soles and also causes tiny bone fragments to detach inside the feet. It’s unclear how long these bone fragments stick around but they’re detectable by MRI for a few months with the right method.

You could also just go with the idea of the leg injury being the result of a specific attack or accident. A broken knee perhaps, after a beating or a fall. Not all injuries in torture scenarios are ‘deliberate’, in the sense that they weren’t necessarily intentional. Because torturers are not as in control of the situation as they’d like people to believe.

I think I’ll leave it at that for now, but if you have any further questions don’t hesitate to come by when the askbox is open. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#writing advice #tw torture #sci fi ask #writing survivors #writing witnesses #torture survivors and relationships #effects of torture #injury patterns #nerve damage #chronic pain #falaka #suspension #stress positions #restraint torture

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finallyaniguana · 5 years

Text

Watch The Eyes: Paris [8]

[7] masterpost ao3 [9]

The next day at school was like every other. Marinette arrived only a few minutes before Mlle Bustier took roll, breathing heavily.

Alya shook her head at her best friend.

"At least you're on time," she sighed.

On the other side of the room, Lila was spewing lies as usual. She had failed to make good on her promise to turned all Marinette's against her, but she was still going strong with her tall tales.

"I really hope we win that trip to Gotham. It would mean so much to me! I have such good memories there," Lila was saying.

"Oh, yeah? Do tell," Alix requested, expression a careful neutral.

"Well... it's a bit of a secret. But, I can trust you all, right?" Lila giggled. "Okay, I'll let you in!"

Chloe was rolling her eyes next to Adrien. She caught his eye and shook her head.

That caught Marinette's interest.

'Is that secret that you've been lying to everyone and will now be moving to Gotham, never to be seen again?' she thought sarcastically.

"Bruce Wayne's youngest son, Damain, is actually my soulmate," she claimed.

Adrien raised his eyebrows incredulously from the front row. If she has a soulmate thats 'oh-so important to her', then why has she been hanging all over him?

"We decided to wait until after we graduated to be together of course. So we could find ourselves before really turning to each other," she went on.

Adrien slumped down. He may never be safe from her fawning.

Rose sighed, almost literal hearts in her eyes.

"That's soooooooo romantic! How did you guys meet?" she begged to know.

Lila pretended to be resistant to sharing her little story before sitting up straighter, gaining energy from everyone's attention like a sadistic leech.

"Well, when we were seven, my mother was stationed in the US. In Gotham. We met in the hotel lobby. While my mom and Mr. Wayne talked, of course he insisted I call him Bruce after, since we're practically family now, I spent time with his son. When I looked into his eyes for the first time... it was like a whole new world opened up," she forced a dreamy sigh.

Marinette had no idea how everyone was falling for this. She and Adrien made peripheral eye contact. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She held back her laughter.

"I didn't even realize I was missing a color, but now I know I will never look at blue the same way again."

'You would have never looked at blue in the first place.'

Of course, Bruce Wayne kept a private household. No public pictures of the children still living with him. There was no way to prove that. Bruce Wayne had blue eyes and so did his first ward, Dick Grayson, judging by the tabloid pictures of the time (Marinette had done a bit of research on the family before even considering applying for this trip).

Mylene spoke next, "Do you have any pictures together? I bet you were so cute!"

Lila dramatically draped herself over the back of her bench.

"Sadly I can't show you. We made an agreement not to share photos of each other. Wouldn't want to paparazzi catching on, now would we?" she smiled, sugary sweet.

"You have to tell us about him!" Rose interjected.

Lila turned back to the petite blonde before looking off into the distance like she was having a dramatic flashback.

'I wonder if she's visualizing the lie.'

"He's just soooo sweet and affectionate! He's always holding my hand and writing me sweet notes and-"

At last Mlle Bustier entered the room, saving Marinette and Adrien from busting their sides from holding in laughter and Chloe from yacking up her gourmet breakfast from the front row.

"Class!" she buzzed with excitement. "I have a very important announcement to make!"

The hum of small voices quieted.

"I know you've all been anxiously awaiting news about the Wayne scholarship trip application! I can finally tell you the winning class. Thanks to the hard work of our class president," she gave Marinette a dazzling smile. "We have been selected to go on the trip to Gotham! We will be put up in a hotel, given a tour of Wayne Enterprises, and given an opportunity to sit in on Gotham Academy classes!"

The class practically exploded with sound. Alya grabbed her friends shoulder, shaking her.

"Girl! You did it! Oh my god, you did it!"

Marinette was practically glowing with praise over the next few hours.

After class that day everyone was congratulating her on her essay skills. Max even asked her for a copy to read on the plane. She happily told him she would print him a copy and bring it to him at the airport before their flight.

"Isn't this wonderful, Lila? You can finally go back to Gotham! Ooooooh! Maybe your soulmate could take you out for a super romantic dinner!" Rose squealed.

Lila was hiding her pained look. She honestly hadn't expected Marinette to win this competition. Now she just had to pray they didn't run into the subject of her lies because that would send her delicate house of cards crashing down.

"Well, I'm just lucky to have a soulmate. I know there are some people out there," she made eye contact with Marinette across the room. "that weren't meant to have a match."

Adrien scoffed next to her. He looked at Marinette with a slight annoyed look. He'd always hated it when Lila used that to try and make his Lady feel inferior. Marinette learned quickly to brush off the hurt after years of dealing with Chloe's bullshit. Not that Chloe hadn't made an effort. All it took was an ultra liar to see how bad it was to be a target.

Almost everyone in the class had a mark or some form of palpable sign that signified their other half was out there, if they hadn't already met their soulmate. Marinette and Lila were the only two in the class that had no sign (that she knew of) at all. Until now. Her soulmate was out there. He might have a tendency to fight superheroes in caves at six in the morning... but he was hers. Whoever he was.

They were set to fly out in two weeks. Two stressful, jam packed weeks. Principle Damocles had been in to give them a presentation on what he expected behavior wise and to congratulate them. Mlle. Bustier had been in contact with the Wayne representative and he had sent them a list of things to bring and what not to bring. They also received a base schedule so parents would have a general idea of where their children were during the day. Despite the stress, the time flew by.

All the preparations were being made, belongings packed.

The main issue for Adrien and Marinette was figuring out to get back to Paris if the need arises. Akuma attacks had declined over the last few years so it would most likely be okay. But to be safe, the two heroes went to see the Guardian. He provided them the horse miraculous for quick travel if they needed to be in Paris quickly.

They argued for over a half of an hour trying to decide who would hold onto Kaalki while in Gotham. Eventually they decided that Ladybug should hold onto it since she had the best strategies if needed in a pinch.

All three of them thought it would be quite unlikely that Hawkmoth would attack Paris while they were away. He had severely limited his activity to almost once a month. They weren't sure what the change was, but they were grateful nonetheless.

Everything was ready.

"Are you sure you have everything, sweetie?" her mother asked.

Her papa looked at her with admiration.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," he gushed.

"Yes, I'm sure. I must have double checked like a million times. I have my luggage, my carry on with my sketchbook, my phone," 'the horse miraculous,' "and Mlle Bustier has the plane tickets. That should be everything." She smiled at her parents.

"What about your dress base for the Wayne Gala?" her father reminded.

She lightly patted her red roller suitcase. She intended to buy fabrics in Gotham with her free time and finish it there. She was going to the gala in an MDC original, as was Alya. Marinette had already been making a gown for Alya to wear (and a tie and pocket square for Nino, if need be), just in case she was invited to any events due to her aspirations in reporting. She had also been intending to invite her best friend to the next event she attended with Jagged Stone. Marinette knew Alya would flip at the opportunity. She put the finishing touches on Alya's floor length gown last week, spending the following week doing as much as possible for hers so it could be done in time for the Gala.

They handed off a box of macarons to her to share with her classmates before boarding the plane. She popped the lid. They were based off Gotham's heroes. Her smiled tightened.

She thought back to her conversation with Alya.

"Alya. There are heroes in the US, right?" she asked, eyes serious and spine straight.

Her auburn hair whipped around and smacked herself in the face. She grinned really wide, not even noticing Marinette's out of character demeanor.

"Yeah! Alot of the Justice League has home cities in the US. Superman in Metropolis, The Flash in Central City, Green Arrow in Starling City, Green Lantern in Coast City! And of course! Batman is Gotham's Dark Knight. I could go on. What do you want to know?"

"Um..." she tried to broach the subject without being suspicious. "I saw a picture of a hero I didn't recognize. So, I assumed you would be able to tell me who he was."

Alya spread her hands out.

"You came to the right superhero fanatic! Show me."

"Oh, well I didn't save the photo... I saw it on a blog post on my desktop," she lied, wincing, the strange standoffish energy fading.

"That's okay. Describe him. I'm sure I can figure it out."

Marinette thought back to the man she met through her soulmates perspective.

"Black hair I think. Black suit and domino mask. Blue symbol thing on his lightweight armor chest plate? Staff? Like Chat Noir's I think... but not magic. His suit was built for agility not power," she provided.

The blogger thought for a moment. Her eyes lit up as she fell on an answer.

"That sounds like Nightwing. No superpowers but still really good. One of Batman's partners. Started out in Gotham but has been spotted pretty frequently in Blüdhaven. Were you doing more research on Gotham when you saw the picture?"

Nightwing...

"Are you sure, Alya?"

Her best friend smiled smugly at her. She whipped her phone out if her pocket and quickly typed something in. She flipped it around and showed her the search results. There he was.

"That's definitely him! Nightwing..." she trailed off.

"Yeah, girl. I know my stuff," Alya bragged.

"Okay, you said he was just one of Batman's partners. He has more?"

Alya huffed and blew a piece of stray hair out of her face.

"So, this was all pretty hush hush since Batman's clearly a very private person but there has been a couple different sidekicks and partners to cycle through, at least from what I can gather from different media sources. So there was the first Robin, then I think there was a second one... but... he fell off the radar. Since then there's been two more Robin's. You can tell because the costume changes every few years. There's also a few Batgirls out there."

"Okay... would you say any of them were... our age?" Marinette asked.

Alya looked at her friend, a strange smile on her face.

"The current Robin is probably pretty close. Why? You trying to talk to a superhero, girl?"

She back pedaled.

"No, no, no! I was just asking because of Ladybug and Chat Noir! So, they look our age! I just wanted to know if anyone in Gotham was too," she managed to come up with.

Alya looked like she was about to continue questioning her about why she wanted to know.

"You sure do know alot about superheroes... what do you do in your free time?" she tried for a humor redirection.

"Like you haven't had an obsession before. *cough* Adrien *cough*," she shot back.

"Um, no fair? I thought he was my soulmate so give me a break! And, in my defense he kind of is," she pouted.

"Oh, please. You did not think he was your soulmate. You wanted him to be your soulmate. Big difference."

She'd told Adrien about the switching, but not the circumstance. She had to figure out who he was before it got dangerous.

She shut the box again and smiled up at her parents.

"I'll call every night," she promised.

Just then, Adrien walked in. He was giving her a ride to the airport.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes! I'm ready!"

She kissed both her parents on the cheek before collecting the rest of her things and following Adrien out the door.

"I'll text you when we're boarding! I love you!"

They waved at her until she got into the car and drove away.

taglist: (CLOSED)

@vixen-uchiha @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @violatiger8 @mochinek0 @constancetruggle @yamadochie @seraphichana @captainmac6 @nataladriana9 @iggy-of-fans @riarkle-felinettelove @luciferge @mystery-5-5 @mellownieice @northernbluetongue @imanerddealwith @ayuchan07 @poshplumcot @annabellabrookes @legendaryneckjudgestudent @chez-pezeater @friedchickening @da-tasuky @crazylittlemunchkin @g-arya @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @witchbitch1998 @theatreandcomicfreak @lysslovsanime

#maribat #daminette

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elaboratedbee · 4 years

Text

Bigby x Reader

A/N: this is my first imagine, so let me know what you guys think and if there’s anything you guys want me to write! :)

Prompt: “What’s with the box?”

Summary: You introduce Bigby to the wonders of vinyl, and he hates it (or so he says)

Rating: Mature-ish! There’s implied sexy times but nothing actually innapropriate in this one! :)

Ship: Bigby x Reader (unspecified gender)

Word count: 2,168

A Little Quiet

“Ta-da!” You proclaim proudly, placing down a box onto Bigby’s desk. You were careful to avoid moving or covering any of the case files and scattered paperwork that littered the surface. To the casual observer, it would look like a mess of papers with no rhyme or reason, but Bigby was funny like that. His apartment was disorganised and unclean to put it lightly, but when it came to his cases, everything was just how he liked it. It all made sense to him.

At first, Bigby acknowledged you with nothing but a grunt, his brows furrowed as he continued to stare at the case file in front of him as if he thought that if he glared at it hard enough then it would start to make sense. “The whole ‘big bad wolf staring into your soul thing’ works better if whatever you’re intimidating can talk, you know that, right?” You teased him, waiting for him to finally turn his attention to you and your announcement.

This broke through to him, and he looked up at you with tired eyes. He was always so tired, especially when he was in the middle of any kind of case. This time it was a string of B&Es that he just couldn’t seem to pin anyone for. His immediate and most obvious suspect Jack had been quickly ruled out due to his presence at the Lucky Pawn being accounted for at the time of almost every single event, so it hadn’t been the simple open and shut that you thought the wolf may have been hoping for, and with the pattern continuing, you could feel the Sheriff’s frustration mounting over the last few weeks. As much as he would pretend otherwise, you knew that the opinion of the Fables affected Bigby much more than he cared to admit, and the growing unrest amongst the citizens of the town only festered his frustration. Their eyes would be on Bigby, and Bigby’s eyes would be tired. That was the way it always seemed to be. “What’s with the box?” He inquired, even a shortage of sleep not enough to kill his curiosity.

“It’s a record player,” you reveal, removing the box to properly show off the contraption.

Bigby looks confused for a moment, his nose scrunching ever so slightly as he formulated his response. “Why would you want one of those?” He asks eventually, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Bigby!”

“What?” He leans back in his chair and makes a vague gesture with his hands, “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to come home every day and then be surrounded by more noise.”

For such a powerful beast, Bigby really was a creature of habit. Before the two of you met, you supposed he spent all of his evenings in silence, accompanied by whiskey and cigarettes as he worked the night away. With the job that he had, which seemed to mainly involve yelling at, or getting yelled at by, other Fables on a daily basis, you could see why the man would appreciate a little quiet when he was finally alone.

But this was different, music was something that you wanted to share with him. It was another one of the many differences that set you apart, that often prompted other Fables to give the two of you funny stares or to whisper among themselves about just how exactly the two of you managed to make it work. Bigby was comfortable in silence, used to it. You, on the other hand, thrived in chaos and colour and noise. You love music and the sprawling city below your window that was never really quiet, never truly asleep.

“You’ll see,” you promised him determinedly, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it drew the tension that he didn’t even realise he was holding out of his shoulders, and he melted into your affections. “Come to bed,” you appeal to him quietly while you have his attention, straddling his lap with one leg either side of him.

“I can’t,” he refuses, but his voice is strained as you run one of your hands through his hair, and begin to place slow and deliberate kisses over his jaw.

“Come to bed, Bigby,” you repeat, your voice more firm the second time, and he wordlessly agrees, his body melting into yours in his submission. He rests a head on your shoulder and sighs.

“Okay.”

Effortlessly, despite his lack of sleep, he stands up and carries you with him and you wrap your legs around his waist. He places you down onto the bed and you try to tone down your smile, internally celebrating your victory. Looking all too happy with your success would only drive him back to his desk, so instead, you sit up and tug him closer by his tie. He allows you to slip the knot undone and pull it away from his body and undo his wrinkled shirt buttons one by one, sliding it off his broad shoulders. It’s an intimate act, but not a sexual one as you undress him and you follow your actions with kisses, gentle and certain.

When he finally falls into bed next to you, pulling you close into his arms, you think to yourself that this is worth it. It doesn’t always go like this, where Bigby concedes so beautifully and with so little coercion. It’s more often a hell of a lot more difficult. And there are nights when it’s an impossible task, where you push too hard and he snaps at you. But on the nights that you lay together, breathing together, being together, you would make the trade a million times over.

The next morning, you implement your plan. Fabletown seems content to hold off its daily disasters for a few sweet hours, so you slip out of bed early and start making breakfast for the both of you. Accompanied by the lilting tone of Frank Sinatra, you waltz about the cramped kitchen as much as possible as you mix ingredients and avidly look over frying pans. Before long, the smell of bacon lures the wolf out of your bedroom and he stops in the doorway of the kitchen, regarding you in silence for a long moment before he speaks.

“I don’t deserve you,” Bigby says, watching you lay down bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes and a steaming pot of coffee. It’s a sentiment that he shares a little too often for your taste.

“You deserve better,” you argue as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his headrest on your shoulder.

He growls uncomfortably at your response and you laugh, “Now you know how stupid you sound when you say that.” You point out and the two of you sit down to eat. The vinyl player spins on unobtrusively as Bigby enjoys your offering with a smile on his face, a rare and beautiful sight for such an early hour. Still, he eats quickly and stands, dropping a kiss to your forehead and grimacing.

“I have to go,” he states.

“I know.”

With one last to kiss to your lips, he turns around to leave, before he stops and turns to face you once more. “You know, the only thing that could have made this breakfast better would have been if you turned that damn thing off.” He gives you a sly grin and disappears out of the door before you can come up with a rebuttal.

That bastard.

For the next couple of weeks, the record player becomes almost a form of competition between the two of you. You turn it on whenever you’re at his apartment, bringing different records over with all kinds of genres (some of which Bigby despises a lot more than others) and trying to coax him into singing or humming the lines along with you, or giving you a twirl. In return, he attempts to take the needle off whenever you look away for too long and even resorted to putting a large scratch in the absolutely deafening heavy rock record you had bought over.

“Oops,” had been his deadpan response when you showed him the very suspiciously fingernail looking scratch on the disc.

Occasionally, you think you have him. One night, he arrives home delightfully early and calls you to share the good news. As soon as you’re finished with your work, you go straight to his place. Arriving home before the dead of the night puts Bigby in a comparatively joyous state compared to his usual broodiness, and you put on a record as soon as you enter. It’s almost force of habit by now. He lets out a totally overdramatic groan of disapproval at your action, but you ignore him completely and take him in your arms.

Pulling him close to you, you begin to sway lightly to the sound of Paul Anka’s rendition of Put Your Head On My Shoulder. Bigby stiffens, shaking his head a little as you wind your arms around his shoulders. “I can’t dance,” he grumbles.

“Neither can I,” you confide, “not a fucking clue,” which pulls a small smile out of him. The two of you turn about the cramped living room with a complete lack of grace and even rhythm at times, occasionally standing on one another and muttering hurried apologies. Eventually, Bigby starts to loosen up slightly, holding you closer to him and allowing you to pull him around the room. By the end of the song, he’s even bold enough to invite you to twirl and you do so as a finishing flourish.

The music fades, but neither of you pulls away for a long moment, staying entwined in the centre of the living space. “I like having you close. Right here, right in front of me where nothing else can interfere. Mine.” Bigby doesn’t meet your eyes as he confesses his inner thoughts, his voice deep and his words slow. He emphasises his point by tightening his grip on your waist and pressing a hard kiss to your lips. It’s not often the wolf lets slip how he feels, especially when its a somewhat primal and basal thought, but you love it.

You cup his rough jaw with one hand and kiss him back, bodies pressed close and reassure him.

“Yours.”

It’s only after a long moment that you pull away from the kiss and Bigby murmurs more lowly in your ear, “I can think of another way I get just as close to you, without that damn machine.” He presses himself closer to you and smiles suggestively, but it’s warm love in his eyes before burning desire and you grin. You know that you’re winning.

It’s another week before you catch him, taking him by surprise as you turn up at his place. He swings the door open with a frown already fixed into his face, sure it was going to be some Fable asking for one favour or another. The frown clears when he sees you standing on his doorstep and his eyes brighten. Without hesitating, he pulls you inside and closes the door before promptly pushing you up against it. His actions are urgent and forceful, but he waits for you to kiss him first before he allows himself to place a hand either side of your head and devour your mouth.

His teeth, quickly sharpening, bite at your lower lip before his tongue soothes the sting away. Your own hands are soon twisted in his hair, his curls soft between your fingers as you tug on them, trying to pull him impossibly closer. When he finally allows you a moment, you grin at him. “Bad day?”

“Bad day,” he confirms, “about to get a lot better.”

Finally able to think straight now that Bigby’s mouth wasn’t on yours, you register the sound of music floating through the apartment. An expression of pure, unadulterated joy appears on your face and the Sheriff baulks, realising his mistake as it dawns upon your face.

“You’re listening to music!” It’s almost an accusation as you cry out victoriously and Bigby hangs his head.

“Alright, alright. I put it on when I got home. It’s kinda like a cigarette,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand shamefully, “it’s a noise that blocks out the other shit.” You notice that the usually overflowing ashtrays have depleted somewhat, an additional bonus that you had not expected.

“It grows on you, right?” You punch his shoulder lightly and he rolls his eyes and nods.

“I guess you could say that.”

As he pulls you in for another kiss, more concerned with getting both of you out of any clothes that will prevent him from turning his day around, he keeps to himself that it wasn’t that he liked the music, and it wasn’t that he preferred it to his cigarettes.

It just reminded him of you.

#the wolf among us #twau #the wolf among us imagine #twauimagine #bigbyxreader #bigby x reader #bigby wolf #the wolf among us fic #maybe he is soft #imagine #bigby wolf x reader #bigbywolfxreader #Bigby Wolf X Reader #bigby wolf imagine

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years

Text

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 6

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Lisa Davis, and the rest of the team

Read Chapters 1-5 Here

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sonny was choking. He was choking and he couldn’t breathe. His eyes flew open in panic, hands clawing at his throat, his face, trying to stop whoever was killing him. Alarms were going off, beeping everywhere, and people yelling. His hands were grabbed and he couldn’t fight off his attackers. He was going to die. But before he could panic about that he felt a heaviness flood through him and he drifted away.

The next time he woke up he was not choking. A definite improvement. So was the bed he was lying on. Huh. Had their abductors decided to take things up a few levels? Was he a pretty princess locked in a tower now?

Risking a look he cracked an eye open and found white ceiling tiles rather than dirty cement. “Oh thank god,” he croaked out.

“Pretty sure it was Davis, not God,” said a familiar voice.

Turning his head Sonny spotted Clay in a matching hospital bed. “Hey, we’re both alive.”

“Surprise,” Clay said with a grin. “No thanks to you. You slept through the whole thing.”

“I’m willing to give you full credit,” Sonny said, wincing as he shifted in the bed. “Once you take into account the fact that I took the heat at the beginning to save your pretty face.”

Clay glared at him. “I have five broken ribs asshole.”

That took him aback. “Shit. When did that happen?”

“Right before the guys showed up.”

“Damn it.” Sonny shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You have such a bad case of pneumonia they had to intubate you. Which you did not like, by the way. Nearly gave the doctor a black eye the first time you woke up. Took both Trent and Jason to hold you down. They gave you so much sedation after that I thought you were going to sleep forever.”

Whoops. No wonder his throat was raw and his chest felt like it was full of fire. “How’d they find us?”

“Davis. And the girl who brought us the water and food.”

There was a lot more to that story but Sonny was too tired for all the details now. “How long have we been here?”

“Two days in a hospital overseas until you were good to travel. Only been home a day. I’m getting sprung tomorrow. You’re in for a while.”

Sonny frowned at him. “How come you get early release?”

“Because I’m the pretty one.”

Sonny tried to chuckle but it made him cough. Apparently he wasn’t quite back to top form. Fatigue was pulling at his eyes and he couldn’t seem to stop it. “They’ve got you on some pretty strong stuff,” Clay said, all teasing gone from his voice. “It’s all right if you need to take a nap.”

“Just a little one,” Sonny mumbled.

When he woke up the next time an oxygen mask had replaced the nasal cannula he’d been sporting earlier. A glance to his right told him Clay was sleeping and the darkness of the room told him it was late. Or maybe early. His internal clock was out of whack.

He felt worse than he had earlier. His head and joints ached again and he was sweaty but cold. Maybe the medication was wearing off.

Worse than all that, he had to pee. He wasn’t sure he could make it out of bed, let alone stand in front of a toilet, but when nature called…

He clumsily shoved the mask off his face and shifted, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up. He slid to the edge of the mattress, legs dangling in the air as the world tilted back and forth. Oh…this was probably a bad idea.

Something stirred in the corner next to him and nearly scared him out of his wits. “Sonny, what are you doing?” Lisa asked sleepily.

Apparently she had been sleeping by his bedside and she was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Hitting the head,” Sonny told her.

“Uh, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think they took care of that for you,” she said meaningfully, glancing down at his groin area.

It took his brain a second to catch what she was referring to; he hadn’t noticed the catheter earlier. “Well ain’t that a delight,” he drawled.

Moving to the edge of the bed had cost him. He felt shaky and just…sick. Davis sat forward, uncertainty on her face. “You all right?”

“I’ve…been better,” he admitted.

“You need help?”

His inclination was to say no, but damn it he wasn’t sure he could move. “Sonny?” The look in her eyes told him she was about to panic and call a nurse or something so he nodded. “Yeah. Please.”

She stood and helped guide him back against the pillows, pushing the oxygen back over his face. Her hand caressed his forehead, fingers trailing gently down his cheek. “Your fever keeps spiking and your lungs are full of fluid again. That’s why they put you back on oxygen. You want me to call a nurse?”

What he really wanted was for her to keep touching him like that. The tenderness of it after so many days of brutality made his throat tighten up as tears pricked his eyes. “No,” he said, voice muffled by the mask. “No I don’t need the nurse.”

She sat back down in the chair, sliding it a little closer to his bed. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“This was the first I could get away,” she said. “I wanted to check on you. Both of you.”

Right, both of them. Her team members. That was why she was here. “You just decided to spend the night because…you like plastic hospital chairs?”

She shrugged. “You weren’t breathing very well. And I didn’t want to leave until I was sure you were okay.”

Oh. “I’m all right. Take more’n a bunch of bad guys to keep me down.”

She slid her hands up and down her legs like she did when she was nervous. “You uh mind if I stay and make sure?”

Lord he hoped she couldn’t tell that his heart monitor had started beeping faster. “Yeah, sure that’s fine.”

He must have drifted off after that because when he woke in the morning Lisa was gone and Clay was eating breakfast. “Told them you didn’t want any,” he said over a mouthful of hospital jello. “They let me have yours.”

Sonny rallied enough strength to toss a pillow at him, which Clay deflected easily, even with half a dozen broken ribs. Beyond that the day was pretty miserable. Clay was discharged which left Sonny bereft and lonely. His fever continued its up and down game, making him feel achey and ill and meant nurses were constantly in and out of the room.

He declined any and all sedatives they’d tried to force on him because he hated the way they muddled his brain, but it meant sleep was nearly impossible. He couldn’t get comfortable and every time he coughed it felt like his ribs were about to crack apart. It wasn’t a huge surprise therefore that Trent made an appearance in the evening. The look on his face said he was not here to say hello and keep Sonny company. “Hey there buddy,” Sonny wheezed.

“Don’t you even start with me.” Trent pointed a finger at him. “You’re being an asshole.”

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your sick friend.” The long sentence cost him, making him cough weakly as his chest tightened.

“Yeah well I come in to check on you and find out you’re intent on undoing all the good work we did getting you out of that hellhole, I’m going to be a little pissed off.” Trent glared at him. “Why are you being such a problem?”

“I’m not being a problem,” Sonny said between labored breaths.

“You’re not taking your medicine.”

“It’s just a sedative.”

“To help you rest and get better. That’s how a body heals dumbass.”

“I don’t need to rest. I’m fine.”

“Sonny, I will tie you down to this bed and sedate you myself if you don’t knock it off. You want them to intubate you again? Because that’s what’s going to happen. Your lungs can’t take much more of this. They need to start healing and for that to work you need to rest.”

There was a bite to Trent’s tone and while he wasn’t yet punctuating every sentence with a swear word, Sonny could sense he was close to it.

He did feel like shit. Maybe a little sleep wasn’t such a bad idea. At the very least it would end this argument. He nodded and Trent immediately pressed the call button. A nurse arrived within minutes and Trent exchanged a few sentences with her before she adjusted the IV’s. Sonny felt his body start to relax and his head go floaty.

Trent dropped into the chair by his bed. “You staying?” Sonny asked.

“Gotta make sure all my hard work doesn’t go to waste.” Trent kicked his feet up on the bed. “Get some sleep.”

He had to admit, when he woke up he felt better. It was late again and the oxygen had been removed, which he hoped meant things were looking up. He was less achey and his head felt more clear. And breathing wasn’t quite as painful as before. He glanced to his left expecting to find Trent or one of the other guys, but was met with a different face. “How do you keep getting in here after hours?”

Lisa smiled and leaned forward in the chair, setting aside the book she’d been reading. “Charm. Looks. My officer’s badge doesn’t hurt either.” She studied him for a second. “You look better.”

“Yeah I feel a little better.” He shifted a bit, pressing the button on the bed that let him sit up higher. “Where’d Trent go?”

“Told him to head home for the night. Said I’d make sure you didn’t punch any more doctors or make any more nurses cry.”

“I didn’t make anybody cry. And I was basically unconscious when I hit that guy.”

“Apparently you still packed quite a punch.”

He cracked a smile. “Gotta keep my reputation. Wouldn’t want anyone to think I was a sissy.”

“Is that why you were refusing medication earlier?”

“I took the medicine!” Sonny grumbled in outrage. “I’ve been good!”

She snorted. “Only because Trent threatened you.”

“I still did it,” he said. “Why are you here again? Don’t you have better things to do than play doctor?”

“Thank you for assuming I’d be a doctor, not a nurse, and no. I don’t.”

She smiled at him and he felt something twist in his gut. He’d missed this so much; having her close, talking to her, just being together.

She sat forward, elbows on her knees. “You know you and Clay, you really scared us.”

“I hear I owe you a thank you. Seems like you were the one that put the pieces together. You want to tell me how exactly you managed that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m saying thank you! I’m being nice!”

“You’re trying to keep me from lecturing you on running an op when you’re not at one hundred percent.”

“I am always at one hundred percent!”

“Sonny don’t!”

The outburst startled him. “Just don’t,” she said, a little quieter this time. “Don’t pretend like this wasn’t a big deal. This was a very big, very bad deal.”

There were tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well you did. You did, Sonny and I—“ Lisa shook her head. “I’m not ready to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“But I almost did. And I hate that. I hate that I’ve been pushing you away. And that you could have died before I—before we—“ She took a breath. “I didn’t want you to die thinking that we weren’t okay. Because we are. You and me. We’re okay.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I would have known. You don’t have to—“

“Could you please shut up and just let me say this?” she interrupted him, pausing to see if he would let her continue. “I was so fucking scared Sonny and I promised myself that if we—if I got you back that I would make sure you knew—” she hesitated and smiled ruefully, “God this all sounded so much better in my head.”

“Hey.” He touched her arm. “It’s okay.”

She stared at him for a second and then, without warning, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Hard. “Do not ever get kidnapped and almost die again,” she said when she finally pulled away.

Before he could formulate any kind of response she was gone. He was alone again, heart thundering inside his chest. Damn. That hadn’t gone the way he’d expected. Not even a little bit.

#SEAL Team #This was supposed to be the last chapter #But SOME PEOPLE just can't keep their hands or lips to themselves #So I guess there's another one coming #Clay Spenser #Sonny Quinn #Lisa Davis #Savis #Whump #Pneumonia #Mercy is Out of Your Reach #Chapter 6

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