#and the entire time i’m either like begging for more to be chopped off or like second guessing if it’s too much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

~~~~

Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

~~~~

Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425 I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

~~~~

“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

“I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

You rolled your eyes at his statement.

Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son.

So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

“Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily.

You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention.

You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip.

Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

“So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

“Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?”

“Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

****

This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going.

Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

Perfection.

That was this was.

“Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core.

You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely.

This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

“Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

“Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

The cruel bastard.

“Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

“Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

“Mama?”

You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

“Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

“Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand.

“She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

“Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children.

“Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

“What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing.

But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now.

4K notes · View notes

xhanisai · 3 years

Text

Truth Or Dare?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!"

Pairing - Adrinette Prompt - 'Truth or Dare?' ~(x)~ . . . Adrien was fucked. He was entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked. And not in the literal way much to the teen's utter dismay and painful frustration. And certainly not anytime soon, judging by his princesse's stiff, flustered posture who was on the floor across him, along with the rest of their class sitting in a circle (sans Lila and Chloé, Dieu merci). Gremlin-like smirks were etched on their friends' mischievous faces and sinister cackles escaped their mouths like the Madhatter from Alice Au Pays Des Merveilles. Even timid ol' Sabrina wore a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat. But never mind that. What was the cherry on top was how both he and Marinette just found out each other's identities no more than ten minutes prior. The two idiots were desperately sprinting back to collège Françoise Dupont after their latest akuma battle without noticing the other, only to literally collide into one other and their transformation to wear off immediately, leaving them both with matching gaping expressions. If luck was on his side, the scenario would have carried on with Adrien whipping out 'suave move #9236' and channelling his inner 'Tamaki Suoh', helping his Lady to her feet with a smile so sexy and seductive (guaranteed to win her over of course) and then him proceeding to ask her out for a cup of coffee where they can talk! Then, he would have totally charmed her with another brilliant smile that would have surely fly kicked away whatever feelings she had for that 'other' boy (he named him M. Imbécile), caressing that soft, soft cheek of hers with his hand and surely they would have leaned in for a hot, passionate, true love's kiss (and he'd finally know what it's like to be properly smooched)! MAIS NON. NON. His five seconds of absolute happiness, of pure bliss after finding out that the two girls he bloody loved so damn much and practically worshipped, were one and the same- WAS INTERRUPTED. . The inconveniently timed Ladyblogger and her DJ boyfriend arrived at the scene, practically snatching both him and Marinette away and back to class, babbling about how Mme. Bustier was going to arrive late hence they were going to take advantage of it. By taking advantage, they meant avoiding all responsibilities by playing a specific game. A game that Adrien has learnt to now, unconditionally despise. . "We're not getting any younger here, Buttercup. Tell us, who was your first kiss? And don't even think about lying your way out, we can tell by your face that you definitely got some sort of action~" Alya's glasses flashed in such a devilish way, even Le Papillon would have found himself shitting his pants. "Of course, if you don't want to answer the truth...you can always pick dare," 'LIKE HELL I WILL!' The last person to have picked 'dare' was Rose and she was instructed to deliver a hearty smack to Kim's bum! The teen model pretty much vowed that the only booty his hands were allowed to touch was Marinette's, with consent obviously. And vice versa. And the person before Rose who chose 'dare' was Nino! He was dared to sneak outside, climb to the top of the building's rooftop and sing Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' from the top of his lungs, recording himself live on Instagram as proof. It was a miracle that he never got caught by the staff! Again, the feline hero very much preferred that any attempts of his serenading would only be heard by the ears of the love of his life. . Adrien gulped, completely frozen in his seat under the gaze of his demonic classmates, the almighty, notorious peer-pressure throwing a concert whilst his Lady continued to act like that the string on the floor was far more interesting than the fact that her newly discovered partner was currently in the hot seat. 'Now how do I answer this!?' He panicked internally, twiddling with his thumbs and praying to the Gods more reliable than Plagg that Marinette would suddenly come up with some brilliant, top-notch plan that would surely get them both out of this. Especially if she doesn't want him to whimper out: "Ya got me! It was Marinette when she kissed the evil out of me after I got shot by Dislocoeur, hahaha! Oh, do I need to mention that I have no recollection of it whatsoever and that I was decked up in my usual catsuit whilst she was in her polka-dotted onesie? A brilliant first kiss, amirite!? Not to mention that our second kiss was also wiped from my memory, cheers for that Alya and Nino!" Unfortunately, (once again) for him, not even his pleading kitty eyes were able to penetrate the wall of aloofness that Marinette held between them, leaving him completely on his own, ready to be torn apart by their friends' malevolent hands. He was the equivalent of a teeny tiny, illegally cute kitten, surrounded by a circle of hungry, deadly, carnivorous wolves, licking their chops! Yet, Marinette remained unphased, pretending to stare out into space and think about what her Maman and Papa would prepare for dinner as if Adrien's scrutinising gaze weren't like arrows all over her side. However, much to her disadvantage, Agreste is her partner and he knew her very, very well. The desperate cat was able to pinpoint the cold sweat that was growing on her forehead, knowing that his presence was starting to get to her and conscious of the fact that she cannot ignore him for long either. 'Come on Marinette, you can't resist me forever. Please help!' His lack of any sort of psychic powers didn't stop him from wishing that she could read his mind but dammit did he try. 'Don't you love your pauvre Chaton!? Aidez-moi s'il vous plaît, My Lady!!!' Just before he could resort to begging out loud, Alix Kubdel... ...snickered. Simply from that evil, ominous sound, both Adrien and Marinette paled on the spot at a speed faster than M. Césaire's panther could ever dream of running at. "Ever since we asked you that question, not once have you looked away from Marinette...now why is that~?" The short girl's insight caused the rest of the class to gasp cheekily and "Oooh~?" simultaneously, their ferocious appetite for juicy gossip now at full throttle much to both heroes' apprehension. "And you, Mari! You look like a kid who got caught stealing from the cookie jar. I think the two of you have something big to admit to the rest of us, hmm?" "...No-oooo...?" Dupain-Cheng refused to make eye contact with anyone, her lips stuck between what looked like a grimace and a fake smile, continuing her sentence which was just as truthful as Jagged Stone's claims of being in his mid-twenties. "I am still a lowly virgin maiden in the kissing department...heheh...heh..." Adrien on the other hand blinked owlishly as he finally came to a conclusion, his singular working brain cell grinding its gear through his thought process. Oh? Ohoh??? OHOHOOHOH??????? . "So that means I was your first kiss too?" . If there was a compilation labelled "Top Ten Ways That Adrien Mothafuckin' Stupid Agreste Fucked Up"... This would be number one. "...You didn't hear me say that out loud...right?" He gulped meekly, shrinking under the astonished looks that everyone gave him, his Lady's jaw dropping further than what he assumed was humanely possible. He. Was. Fucked. . The entire classroom erupted with utter chaos. Ranging from high pitched squeals from Alya, Rose, Mylène and Kim to "HOLY SHIT!" and "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?" from Alix, Nino, Juleka and so on. Even Marinette was left burning brighter than a tomato, covering her face in embarrassment along with her iconic mantra: "THIS IS A DISASTER!!!" and shaking her head. Money was exchanged from secretive bets that were placed on the model and designer, naughty comments were thrown around left and right and even more! If one were to enter the room right now, they'd think that they've just stumbled across a hectic zoo. Never in his life did Adrien want the ground to swallow him up so badly or even run away at the speed of sound to an unknown island where he would live off of fruit and grow old all alone without ever getting married. Marinette probably- no, she definitely hates him now. Her refusal to come out of her 'Don't talk to me, I'm catastrophising' human ball and face him was more than enough evidence to prove that. Who was he kidding, thinking that he would be able to get such a wonderful, spectacular girl like her to fall for a hopeless, ridiculous nincompoop like him? His attempts in the past never worked out before and it certainly wouldn't have worked out now. Forget about pursuing a romantic relationship with her, he's one-hundred percent sure that he's absolutely tarnished what was left of their friendship! He can visualise his terrifying, depressing excuse of a future already. No more shy, cute greetings with a gorgeous smile in the mornings before class from Marinette. No more fun banter and warm hugs on their favourite patrol environments from Marinette. No more cheeky jokes and flirty teasing from Marinette. No more timid conversations and saying his name in the most softest way he's ever heard from Marinette. And, no more perfect "Bien joué!" fist bumps after an akuma battle from Marinette... How...how was he supposed to live without her? 'Shit, I can feel my eyes starting to water...' He took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling to force the traitorous tears away from daring to come out. The last thing Marinette needed was to deal with a dumb crybaby like him after he's just embarrassed her like that with his stupid, big mouth- "-But when did this happen, Marinette??? Girl, why didn't you tell me!?" Snapping out of his self-pity, Adrien tuned back into the pandemonium, wincing at how mortified Marinette still looked (albeit she was no longer in her cocoon of doom). She pursed her lips at Alya with that adorable pout of hers, unsure of how to answer with something that didn't sound like a terrible excuse. . Finally, a solid answer blared in Adrien's brain, the blonde teen adamant that he turned the situation around and salvaged what was left of the bond between him and his Princesse. For now, he can focus on the dreadful future after he got the current situation sorted. He would do anything to make Marinette feel good around him again. "It was during that time we were at le Musée Grévin when I invited Alya, Nino, Marinette and Manon to join me," He ignored the way that their classmates leaned closer with wide grins, focusing on sending a quiet apology to Marinette's direction with his pleading eyes alone. "I was being dumb and tried to play a prank on Marinette when the other three were away. I ended up tripping and Marinette tried to help me but I accidentally pulled her down with me and...we accidentally kissed..." Although the scenario wasn't fully true, Marinette did manage to land a light peck upon his lips during that incident and that's all it took for it to be branded in his memory. The sear of foreign warmth that left his lips in tingles, the subtle taste of strawberry gloss that left him hungry for more and the unadulterated softness that rivalled even the most expensive of silk. He hoped that his little white lie towards the end was enough to alleviate what was left of Marinette's embarrassment, deaf to their classmates' coos and brows furrowed to emphasise how sorry he was to the girl he loves. Although there was still a hint of pink on her cheeks, her expression was something that he wasn't able to decipher and that only made his heart race even faster than before. 'Please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me-' "So how was the kiss, then?" Ivan waggled his eyebrows, both him and his girlfriend playfully winking at Marinette at her protesting stammers. "Oh? E-Erm...it was very quick and brief so I didn't get a chance to enjoy it-" His treacherous eyes decided to land on Marinette's lips midway, his mind screaming to stop digging a deeper hole for himself. He wasn't quick enough to flit his gaze away, the indication that he wanted to kiss her again so painfully obvious that even a blind person would have noticed. "-It was very soft and nice, however! I don't regret it-" Suddenly... . ...Marinette stood up. Adrien felt like his heart was going to bust out of his chest with the way it ricocheted against his ribcage, his emerald eyes wide with apprehension and his breath lodged in his throat as if a vice was clasped around his neck. Was she going to kill him? He certainly thought he deserved it. "Alya," The heroine in disguise began, the teen model unable to hide his flinch. "Dare me to kiss Adrien."

She lifted her head to face her partner, her sapphire blues no longer hidden in the shadows of her fringe and sparkling with both amusement and...love? Her kissable lips were upturned into a confident smile with a gloss that was begging for him to taste and he was absolutely losing his mind. Was he dreaming? He must be dreaming. Yes. No way in the seven heavens would Marinette, THE Marinette, would want to kiss HIM, the embodiment of bad luck! Yet, the twinkling of her eyes and the warmth that radiated from her as she walked closer and closer towards him said otherwise. He didn't even hear Alya's excited declaration for Marinette's dare, solely focused on the way his Lady kneeled in front of him, smoothed her hands towards his cheeks and cupped them so gingerly. . "Pucker up, Buttercup," Marinette murmured against his lips with an endearing smirk, grazing her nose with his and rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs before sealing the kiss. . With all the romantic daydreams and boyish yearning he went through when it came to Marinette's lips, Adrien thought that he was well prepared for the real deal if the day were to ever come, disregarding his bad luck of course. However, he has been wrong before. He's absolutely, definitely, positively wrong now. The brief, shocked, brush of lips back in the wax museum was barely a taster. Barely a glimpse of the real thing. Not even close to a sample of the luxury. From the moment she pressed her lips against his, Adrien was hit with an outstanding overwhelm of fervour, tenderness and sweetness. His body instinctively shuddered as a pleasant fire seeped from her mouth to his and then coursed through the veins of the rest of his body, his hand that was clutching his precious good luck charm gift from Marinette then loosening its grip and automatically reaching for her cheek. His piano fingers dug into the locks of one of her ponytails, entangling them. 'If this really is a dream, then please, don't wake me up,' The sensation was slightly odd and just, indescribable at the same time. Yet, the more he tasted that strawberry gloss, the more her lips moved against his, the further he fell in love, addicted to the sugar that he's craved for so long. His red-tipped ears were oblivious to the class' whoops and cheers, his heart crashing against his chest louder than ever and the feel of hers doing just the same against him had him soaring. 'She never hated me all along, right? This isn't a kiss of hate at all,' But most importantly, the feeling of Marinette's pulse quickening from when his fingertips slid down to meet the side of her sensitive neck, cradling the back of it and the almost inaudible whimper she let out, was branded to his touch and memory like an imprint. 'So this is a real first kiss? Is this what Marinette felt when she kissed me to get rid of Kim's spell? How did she manage to keep her composure around me since then?' Just as Marinette pulled away, her eyes shimmering with wonderful emotions and her lips as beautifully rosy as her cheeks, Adrien couldn't resist and pulled her back in without a beat. As if to make up for all those missed opportunities, all the moments where he could have stolen her breath away and all those unsaid words that surely would have made them happy. They could talk about the reveal and their feelings afterwards in the safety of Marinette's humble balcony without any prying eyes. They could sort out their overwhelming emotions and bask through their memories over that cup of coffee that Adrien now has the confidence to ask her out on. But just for now, the two of them wanted to enjoy their present and make the most of it. 'Sweet, sweet, sweet, she's so sweet...' . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Ah shit it's six am. I'll edit this tomorrow.

#my writing #my fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #adrienette #post reveal pre relationship #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #this is slight crack #but it's very fluffy too

277 notes · View notes

fictionalfics · 3 years

Note

I had an idea. Could you do a crossover thingy where Aizawa has a daughter and she goes missing and he comes in the next day looking worse than normal and then the broadcast gets sent out and Aizawa sees his daughter in it and he gets either happy she’s alive or sad because she’s in a war?

This is s great idea! I’ve never written a parent fic before, so this is quite a challenge. Hope it came out okay!

Title: Not This Time

Pairing: Dad!Aizawa x Daughter!Reader

!TW: VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, MENTIONS OF K*LLING, LIGHT ALCOHOL USE!

(Gifs not mine)

“Aizawa-sensei’s been sleeping a lot more than usual, have you noticed Iida-kun?” Midoriya looks at his classmate expectantly as they make their way to the dining hall.

It was true, their rugged teacher had been sleeping in class a lot more lately. He had barely greeted his class before the yellow sleeping bag made its appearance.

“I’m sure its nothing, Deku,” Ochako chimes in, “This is the first time in a while he’s taught a full class. Besides, you know who he has to deal with.“

Midoriya chuckles as his friend gestures to Kaminari, Bakugo and Kirishima - they didn’t mean to be, but they were one of the main sources of trouble in class 1-A.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

--------

Back kick. Block. Jump, kick, dodge. Bend the knees, feet to the floor. Breathe, start again.

The thick material of your scarf is tight around your palms as you dodge attack after attack. You hold your hand out and erase the enemy’s quirk, before landing a swift chop to the neck. Another one down. You handcuff them as fast as you can before dodging a beam of light. It just catches you ear, the scent of burnt hair becoming more intense as you roll to the side.

A stakeout operation gone wrong. A local gang that turned out to be something much bigger. You were fighting a war that had nearly run its course, and this mission was meant to be one of the last. That was, until your stakeout partner revealed she was working for the other team, a double agent.

That left you in this mess. You wished your dad was there with you right now, but he wasn’t. He’d taught you to cope on your own, you told yourself. You’d manage.

Smack!

-------

Three days. No text, no call, no you. Shouta had waited in the living room all night, sipping coffee to stay awake. It had been three days since you walked out the door with a great big smile on your face, saying goodbye as you left for work.

Ten years ago, the seemingly heartless man had taken you into his care after saving you from your burning orphanage. The hero saw himself in you, especially since your quirks were so similar. He trained you himself, teaching how to use the capture rope alongside your fists.

You had enrolled in Shiketsu High, in order to separate yourself from your dad, and started your work studies with a mid-ranked but successful pro in your second year.

Shouta was extremely proud of you, and made sure you knew it every single day.

But it was unlike you to stay out for days at a time without contact. The first night wasn’t so bad - maybe she’s at the bar with friends, I’ll see her in the morning, he thought to himself.

You weren’t there in the morning. He put it down to you staying over a friend’s house - he was up pretty early after all, so you’d be home later.

Nope. Nothing. He continued to make excuses up for you all night, and all the way into the morning too, only grabbing an hour’s sleep before leaving for work.

When he came home to an empty house for the third day in a row, he started to panic for real. Texted you every hour, on the hour. Called a couple of times. Called your workplace, to no avail.

6:30 on the clock. Shouta chugged the rest of his coffee and slung his work bag over his shoulder as he noted it was day four now. Work was going to be a long one.

------

Your ears rang as your former partner delivered another slap to your face.

“This would be over so much quicker if you told me where the boss is being held hostage, Y/N. You’re making this so hard for yourself!”

“Go to hell.”

Wack!

A scream held back in your throat, your teeth grind together as you fight through the pain. The edges of your vision began to go black, and you almost considered telling the gang everything.

------

Shouta’s thumb was over the send button when he heard your name on the local news.

Y/N Aizawa missing in action. Something about a fight against a gang, an ambush they said. No other details could be released for citizen safety.

The hero didn’t even realise he’d slid off the couch to kneel in front of the TV. Missing in action. He rested his forehead on the box, his hair sticking to the screen due to static.

Missing. You were missing.

His legs carried him to the agency you worked with. His voice demanded to see your boss, begged for the details of your whereabouts.

They wouldn’t tell him. “We cannot release details to the public, its for her safety as well as theirs,” your boss told him.

Shouta argued that he wasn’t the public, that he was a hero like you.

“There’s nothing more we can do, I’m afraid.”

-------

The ropes had begun to bite into your wrists as you hung from the ceiling. After deciding the initial interrogation was obsolete, the gang had taken you to a new building and strung you up. Your feet could almost touch the floor, but had given up trying to get free an hour ago. Possibly. You didn’t know how long you’d been there. You were sure you’d stayed awake, but even blinking felt like it took days in that dark room.

You strained your ears from information.

Move........found.....kill her.......risk? No......stupid.....

There wasn’t enough for you to piece together the crumbs of information. You were sure you were going to die at this point. So much potential, a great future ahead of you.

No, you can’t think like that! What would Dad do in this situation?

You couldn’t answer that one. Instead, you hummed a lullaby to yourself - your favourite that he used to sing to you if you’d had a nightmare. This entire situation was a bit of a nightmare, so you thought it was appropriate.

The door opened before you, the bright light bringing tears to your eyes.

-----

“She’s gotta be alright Shou, she’s tough! Besides, didn’t you go MIA all the time?”

Hizashi did his best to comfort his friend, handing him a small glass of whiskey, which Shouta drank in one. He slammed the glass to the table with a dull thud.

“That’s different Yamada. I knew where I was, and I was never gone for long. I don’t know where she is, and it’s been nearly a week.”

The blond runs his palm down his face, not wanting to admit the he feared the worst too.

“She’s a hero Shou, bad things happen. You know the dangers and she does too, she’s not dumb.”

“Another whiskey please.”

Hizashi refilled Shouta’s glass, and the liquid disappeared as quickly as he’d poured it.

“She’ll be okay Shou.”

------

Your arms were freed of their painful restraints as your friends occupied the gang and, summoning as much strength as you could, dragged yourself to your feet, using your peer as a crutch. Your head turned to watch your team take on the four or five people that had taken you hostage, silently celebrating as you limped to the exit.

“Sorry we took so long Y/N, it took us a while to figure out where they’d taken ya!”

A tired chuckle escaped you as your co-worker apologised. “At least you’re here now.” Your response wasn’t completely a joke, but you couldn’t blame them. This gang was good at hiding.

“The whole operation is gonna be extended, thanks to the newbie. We had no idea she was a double agent- it’s gonna set us back to square one!”

Double agent. You scolded yourself for not catching on in time. “I’m sorry, I should have figured out sooner. Now the entire mission’s been compromised.”

Your peer sat you in the back of an ambulance that had come along with the police.

“Don’t beat yourself up silly! Even us pros didn’t know, there was no way a student could have guessed!”

The fight was over relatively quickly, thankfully. After the criminals were handed over to the police for interrogation, you were escorted back to the agency to be patched up, and report to the higher-ups.

------

Eraser didn’t immediately jump up when the front door creaked open. He was a hundred miles away, trying to convince you to take a day off instead of going to work. You’d be home with him that way, smiling as you cooked your favourite meal in the kitchen. That smile... How badly he missed it.

He felt the couch sink next to him.

“Sorry I’m late Dad, I had one hell of a day at work!”

Dad? He snapped back to reality as the words sunk in. He looked to where the voice came from - his eyes traced it back to you. Covered in cuts and bruises, dark circles adorning your eyes, but you all the same.

“Y/N!” The dark haired man jumped up and lifted you into his arms. You giggled and squeezed him back, giddy with relief.

“Y/N Aizawa, you are grounded forever! What the hell happened to you?”

He set you down on the couch as you began to explain as much as you could, without giving away classified information.

“But I’m here now! I’ve got about a week to recover, because I wasn’t injured too badly, plus they did hold me in the recovery room for a day.”

“A week?” His shoulders slumped at the thought of you fighting. “They’re sending you back out there?”

“Yeah. The mission isn’t over yet, we have to dismantle them completely.”

Shouta ran a hand through his hair, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Promise me you won’t go missing again.”

“I can’t. You of all people should know that.”

“Humour me.”

Breaking eye contact, you sighed, before looking back at your father and smiling as wide as you could. “I won’t go missing this time Dad. I promise.”

“Good.” Shouta patted your head before standing up and making a beeline for the kitchen. “You’re still grounded forever.”

“But Dad!”

“No buts!”

“Even if I make you some coffee? Maybe cook some yakitori?”

“I may reconsider,” he chuckled. You always knew your way to his heart.

He loved his daughter so damn much.

393 notes · View notes

ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

Totem Troubles-Technoblade

This is a Technoblade x fem!reader in the dreamsmp. In this, the way that some of the Minecraft lore, so to speak, is wrong. For example, I know a poison potion won’t kill you but will only take you down to half a heart. For the sake of the story I had to change some things to make it flow. I hope you enjoy!

Check out my masterlist here!

Gathering materials was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to end in an almost cannon death.

Y/N’s POV

It was simple. I needed wood and Techno needed cobblestone. We decided to go out together and gather what we each needed. There was a small stone mountain next to a big patch of trees. We could gather what we needed and be within earshot of one another at all times. So we went to sleep and when we woke the next morning, we set out. The place we were going was only about 60 blocks away from our home. Far enough it didn’t damage our ‘view’ so to speak but close enough we could easily run home if need be. It was simple… Well it was supposed to be.

I gave Techno a quick kiss before turning to the tree in front of me. “Be careful,” Techno warned, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, before walking toward his stoney mountain. “You too,” I called in response, taking out my netherite axe and getting to work chopping down the amount of trees I needed.

Maybe I was too focused on my work, maybe I was too focused listening for Techno, maybe it was because it was daytime. Either way, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t notice the footsteps and the sizzle. I couldn’t hear the laughter a few blocks away drawing nearer. Sucks I had to find out this way.

As I raised my axe to chop some more wood, a huge force hit my back. A creeper exploded, propelling me forward a few blocks, causing me to drop my axe and land on my stomach. A scream escaped my throat as white hot pain coated my back. “Y/N!” I heard Techno scream through the ringing of my ears. Laughter rang throughout my ears as well. I slowly eased myself up, looking to find a witch standing above me, splash potion at the ready. “Please, no,” I whimpered, knowing it wouldn’t have any effect. Mobs were mindless drones, their only thoughts to hurt the people that lived on the server.

Glass shattered onto my back and green swirls surrounded me, immediately making me feel sick. Another glass shattered on my back, this one purple. I felt awful. I felt sick and I couldn’t bear to hold myself up anymore. I collapsed back to the ground, completely at mercy to the witch. The laughter rang once more through my ears as darkness completely clouded my vision. “Techno,” I murmured once more, praying he would hear me. Wherever he was.

*POV Switch*

Technoblade’s POV

It was supposed to be simple. Leave the house, gather materials with Y/N, go back to the house. Of course nothing in my life can ever be that simple.

An explosion set a small flurry of panic through me, but what truly caused my blood to run cold was her blood curdling scream. “Y/N!” I screamed out, hoping she would be alright. I dropped my pickaxe and unsheathed my sword and shield. I raced out of the small cave I had dug while retrieving cobble and found my girlfriend lying prone in front of a witch. “Fuck!” I cursed to myself, pushing myself even harder to get to my lover.

The witch raised up a splash potion, but I quickly dove my sword into its side, causing it’s attention to shift. I raised my shield as the splash potion was thrown on me causing it to bounce back and hit the witch instead. Pulling my sword from the witches' side, I stabbed at the mob once again, this time hitting directly in the chest causing the mob to parish.

Quickly I threw my sword and shield into my inventory and rushed back over to Y/N. Purple and Green swirls surrounded them as they lay face down on the ground. Blood was seeping out of their shirt from the back and I silently cursed myself for not making her put armor on. I checked her left arm and almost fainted at the sight. Her hearts, the ones that showed how much health she was at, were green and were being depleted with no signs of stopping. “Fuck,” I cursed, throwing open my inventory to search for the one thing I knew would for sure save her. “Where is it?”

After a few seconds of struggle, I finally found it. The golden totem I had secured just a few days prior. Ripping it from my inventory, I dropped to the ground and shoved the totem into Y/N’s hand, forcing her fingers to wrap around it securely. I didn’t even have time to relax. A huge pop sounded and the totem disappeared. The swirls disappeared from my love’s body and three of their hearts came back, no longer green from poison, as well as an additional two golden hearts as an extra cushion.

I felt myself let out a breath. She’s safe now. She’s going to be alright. “Y/N?” I questioned gently, moving to look at her face. Nothing. “Y/N?” I tried again, gently reaching out to touch their shoulder. Again, nothing. The movement she made was her chest up and down to show she was still breathing. Panic began to flood my senses once more, why isn’t she awake? The totem worked, didn’t it. Why isn’t she responding. Looking at her arm once more calmed me down only slightly. Her hearts were stable, so why aren’t her eyes open?

Gently, I rolled Y/N onto her side, allowing the glass to fall off of her back and onto the snow before standing up and gingerly lifting her off the snow, bridle style. I was extremely careful to not touch the parts of her that were still healing as I made my way back to the house as fast and safe as I could.

Once inside, I took Y/N into our shared bedroom and laid her down on her stomach. Pulling off her shirt, I winced at the sight of her back. Burns and cuts littered her back, blood oozing from many of the open wounds. I noticed that there were still little shards of glass poking into her skin. I forced myself to be completely calm. Although I was still in a bit of a panic because she wasn’t waking up, Y/N needs me right now to take care of her and her wounds and that’s what I was going to do.

The first aid kit we kept in the bathroom was well stocked. My eyes danced over the materials with fondness in my heart. Y/N had made this kit when we first got together. They hated seeing me hurt but knew I had little to no care for myself and my injuries. So they brought over this kit and would always be the one to sit me down after a battle or a long time away from one another and would take the time to tend to all of my injuries, no matter how small. It’s a little hard to swallow that it is now my turn to tend to Y/N’s wounds.

I retreated back to the bedroom, kit in one hand, a damp rag in the other. I set everything I needed on the bed and began working. I grabbed the tweezers and carefully plucked the remaining shards of glass from Y/N’s back, throwing the glass into a nearby trash can, making a mental note to take it out later. Once I was sure all the glass was gone, I used the damp cloth, to gingerly wipe down Y/N’s back, cleaning the blood, sweat, and grime from their slightly charred back. Next came bandages, one for every cut, no matter how little. Because then came the burn cream and I didn’t want it to get in any of the cuts. Gently, I applied the cream to my fingertips and slowly began massaging the cooling cream into my lover’s back. It was almost calming taking care of my lover in this way… Almost

Once I was finished, I took the kit back to the bathroom and put it away before washing my hands and then splashing some of the cooling water on my face, hoping to calm myself down even further. It didn’t work.

The totem prevented them from dying. From losing a cannon life. They should have woken up once the totem popped. It is designed to get rid of all affects and give you hearts, golden hearts at that. It confuses me to no end as to why the effects worked on Y/N but didn’t wake her up… What if she never wakes up? What if the totem glitched? What if it gave her hearts but she lost all of hers before that happened? What if I was too late?

Thoughts swirling in my head, I stormed out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Y/N still lay on her stomach, back rising and falling, but eyes remaining shut. Tears pricked in my eyes as the last question danced round and round in my head. What if I was too late.

I began pacing at the end of the bed, thinking. Who could I go to for help? Almost the entire server either hates me or fears me… Philza wouldn’t be much help, as much as I love him, he can be kind of daft about these things. Dream is a possibility… But I don’t want to owe him. God, why! Why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t it have been me? I wish it would have been me. I would do anything for me to be in her place right now.

I don��t know how long I was there just pacing and thinking. But it was long enough for the room to become completely dark and then light again. All throughout the night, Y/N’s condition remained the same. Hearts slowly healing back to full, but her eyes still closed. My legs felt like jelly underneath me. I had been on my feet for so long. Slowly I walked over to Y/N’s side of the bed, sitting on the chair I had placed there when I was tending to their back. I found my hand reaching out and carefully pulling Y/N’s hand from her side and holding in both of my hands, bringing it up to my mouth and placing a soft kiss to Y/N’s hand.

“Y/N… I don’t know if you can hear me,” I began, a lump forming in my throat and tears pricking in my eyes, “but if you can. I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I failed you. You’re hurt and it’s all my fault. I should have kept a better eye on you, I should have been beside you, but I wasn’t and now you’re not waking up and I don’t know why… I’m so sorry Y/N. I love you. I love you so much. Please, please come back to me,” I begged. The tears that had been welling up in my eyes finally streamed down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them anymore. I moved and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Y/N’s mouth that was exposed by their position. “I love you,” I whispered once more, before bringing our joined hands back to my forehead and closing my eyes tight.*

After a few more moments of silent begging, a gasp startled me out of my thoughts. My eyes shot open to find Y/N’s Y/E/C ones staring back at me. “Y/N,” I breathed out in disbelief. “Techno” they whispered back, “What happened?” I let go of their hand and brought mine to their cheek and gently stroked their face, “What do you remember, love?” I asked, looking at her face deeply. Y/N attempted to adjust themselves, but winced. “Careful,” I warned, looking over to their back. The burns had healed a little bit, but it was best for them to remain on their stomach for a while longer.

“We were getting materials,” she said slowly, her eyes scanning mine. I gave her a slight nod silently encouraging her to continue. “And I was chopping wood. There was an explosion… A creeper. I landed on my stomach in front of… of a witch. It hit me with two splash potions… it hurt so much and I felt so sick, and then it all went dark,” Y/N finished, eyes scanning my face. I nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, yeah that’s what happened, love. When I heard you scream I dropped everything and ran to you. I wasn’t fast enough and for that I’m truly sorry,” I apologized, bringing their hand up and kissing it once more.

Y/N rolled her eyes at me, “It’s not your fault dummy. Besides, you probably rescued me just in time. Didn’t you? Kill the witch and then bring me here and fix me up, didn’t you?” She questioned, eyebrows raised. I nodded sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head with my free hand, “Yeah. I guess I did that…” I replied, trailing off. Y/N let out a small scoff with a grin painting her face, “You’re a hero Tech, my hero… I love you,” She stated softly. My heart fluttered in adoration, “I love you too. So much,” I responded softly. “Come here and kiss me you big doof,” Y/N commanded, a cheesy smile on their face. I couldn’t help but return her smile as I leaned down, reached under her chin and gently tilted her head to mine, pressing my lips to hers in a sweet yet passionate kiss.

I felt all of my worry melt away as our lips were connected. The kiss reminded me that Y/N was in fact here, alive, and safe with me. My love’s eyes were open and the totem had worked, although a bit slower than I would have liked, but it worked nonetheless. I slowly pulled away from the kiss, a soft smile on my lips. “Can we cuddle now?” Y/N asked innocently. Who am I to deny her request?

I carefully stood from my chair and made my way to my side of the bed, crawling ever so gently into bed next to Y/N. I carefully laid myself next to her and slowly placed an arm around the top of her shoulders where the burns weren’t as back and the cuts had mostly healed, “Is this okay?” I whispered softly, my eyes scanning my lover’s for any discomfort. “Yeah, it’s okay,” She responded softly, her eyes fluttering closed. And for the first time in many hours, I wasn’t worried about her eyes being closed. In fact, I allowed my own eyes to flutter closed and allowed my body to fully relax knowing the one I love is completely safe.

*Do you guys know the position I’m talking about? The one you always see in movies and tv shows in hospital scenes where the one conscious person has the other person’s hand clutched in both of their hands and it’s pressed to their forehead? Yes, no? Let me know! Lol

There you have it I really hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like!

366 notes · View notes

angstyaches · 3 years

Note

Hey! Here’s the headache request #2 lol

Charlie or shayne (this feels more like Charlie to me, but whatever you feel like!) with an awful headache that is absolutely killer, and it’s lay-on-the-floor-of-the-bathroom-with-the-lights-out-and-cool-washcloth-over-the-forehead-time, except the other one doesn’t know that quite yet until they find them in pain and puking their absolute guts up, which cues lots of gentle caretaking, soft comforting whispers, and maybe camping out on the floor together until the poor kid is able to get some sleep and wake up feeling a little better.

Again, I'm so sorry for losing your original request! I didn't quite make it to the sleep/feeling better, because I felt it come to a natural end.

Word Count: 1458

CW: headache, emeto, demon possession, character needs help moving.

___

He gasped deeply, swallowing back a howl of pain. His stomach was lurching under his ribs, unable to still itself under the amount of pressure that radiated from his left temple.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so much that he couldn’t believe this was real, he couldn’t believe he’d ever known a time when his head hadn’t felt like it was being drilled into.

With clammy hands, Charlie felt around on the floor for the wet cloth that he’d been holding against his head before the vomiting had set in. It’d been his second course of action, after downing some ibuprofen (which were now swimming in the toilet drain), and before killing the bathroom light. He finally found it and dragged it towards himself, pressing it to his head and holding it up with an elbow on the toilet seat. Usually, he’d have shuddered in dread at the thought of putting a cloth on his face if it had just been sitting on the bathroom floor, but there was no room for pickiness now.

Besides, he was sure the floor had been washed that week. Yeah. Maybe.

An unproductive retch made his throat clench and forced his jaw open. He was almost relieved to think that he was nearing empty; once the nausea passed, he could focus on becoming a reclining statue on the floor again. Most annoying was the fact that the puking was a result of the headache, but was also making it worse.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the demon CT mumbled, Human bodies make no sense.

“Charlie, you okay?” That was a voice from the real world, specifically from the other side of the bathroom door. “You’ve been gone ages.”

Before he could even entertain the idea of responding, thick chunks rolled up Charlie’s throat and into the water. He dreaded to even begin to think what those chunks once contained.

“Charlie…?”

Before Charlie could protest, CT’s telekinesis kicked it and unlocked the bathroom door. Shit, he thought, flinching at the sound of the door clicking open. He yanked the cloth down over his eyes, desperate to keep his eyes covered.

“Don’t turn on the light,” Charlie hissed, feeling the demon’s energy kicking in to replace that which he’d already lost from his own body. The effort of talking was so intense, like every word was a kick to the inside of his skull with a steel-toed boot. He barely mumbled out a groan as he pushed himself upwards, his whole body thrusting back and forth lightly with the repeated spasms that went through his tummy.

“You’re sick?” Shayne mumbled, clicking the door shut slowly and cutting off the light from the landing.

“Mmhmm…” Charlie reckoned Shayne had figured it out hours ago, despite his best efforts to appear cheerful during the evening. It wasn’t often that Elliott and Felix made the trip out to Mulberry, and the last thing Charlie had wanted was for anyone to be worried about him. “Headache… bad one.”

As expected, Shayne let out a sigh. “You should’ve said something…”

“Please don’t yell at me,” Charlie gasped, saliva running down his chin as he hovered about the toilet seat.

“This is literally as quiet as I can –” Shayne shut himself up with a soft grunt. He knelt beside Charlie. It was obvious that he intended on rubbing his back while he continued to heave over the toilet, but Charlie had other intentions now that his boyfriend was here.

And by boyfriend, he meant human pillow.

The tiles were freezing as he lowered himself to the ground again. He’d sweat so much more since he’d started throwing up, and his clothes were a little damp and felt disgusting against his skin.

He didn’t really care about the rest of his body, though, as long as he could lay his head in Shayne’s lap. Shivers ran down his back, direct waves of tension that trickled down from his skull.

Charlie whined, low in his throat, as Shayne brushed his hair back from his forehead and laid the cloth across it. His fingers moved slowly and gently as always. It was as though Shayne believed Charlie’s skull was made of eggshell, and that it might have cracked and collapsed inwards if it was put under any serious amount of pressure.

Whereas honestly, it felt more like his head might crack from the pressure coming from the inside.

Even as he was lying still, Charlie felt like his head was being wrenched to the side, as though he was nailed to a turntable that was set spinning slowly. Only the sensation of Shayne playing with his hair kept him somewhat grounded, and even that didn’t feel like nearly enough.

“Just cut it off.” His voice was getting higher as time went on, like he was an old tea kettle slowly coming to the boil. “I want it gone, just – just chop it off.”

Shayne frowned. “Your hair?”

“My fucking head!”

“Sssshhhh…” Shayne’s fingertips glided down the nape of Charlie’s neck. In contrast to the light touch, Charlie could feel his own muscles tensing up, hard as rocks. Every inch of his body was reacting to the pain which, in itself, only really took up about one inch of his skull. "It's okay."

“It's not! I hate this,” he whimpered.

“I know...”

A low groan from the pit of his stomach alerted him to the fact that the convulsions were traveling through his insides again, and he choked on a sob. His head was still in pain after laying it in Shayne’s lap, but it was the most comfortable he’d been in ages. He didn’t want to get on his knees again and lose even more of his dinner.

His chest tightened with a hiccup. Shayne cupped a hand around his shoulder, ready to help him back up.

Charlie tried to hum in protest, but squeezed his lips together upon tasting acid on his tongue. His spine jerked him forward, curling him up even tighter. The cloth dropped off of his forehead again, but this time Shayne grabbed it before it could sit on the tiles for too long.

“Charlie –”

“I c-can’t, I can’t sit up!” He clapped a hand over his lips as his stomach clenched again.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie, just remember I love you.”

“Wh-wha –?” The floor suddenly seemed to tilt in the opposite direction, or maybe it was entire fucking planet, because Charlie suddenly didn’t know which way was up or down. He felt Shayne pulling his arm up around the back of his neck, dragging him to his knees and draping him over the toilet seat. Charlie could barely see for the stars exploding in his vision, but when sickly liquid clawed its way up his throat, he heard it hit another body of liquid at the bottom of the bowl. “Fuck…”

“You’re okay,” Shayne whispered, right next to his face. Charlie’s chin was practically resting on his shoulder. His arm was draped over Shayne’s other shoulder, like he was injured and being dragged off the battlefield.

He felt another wave of nausea bubble up under his ribs, his stomach letting out an uneasy gurgle. Charlie shut his eyes as a mouthful of bile stung his throat before cascading out of him. Needles of white-hot pain shot through his head.

A gentle knock on the door sounded like an elephant being dropped on the landing.

“Fuck – what?” Shayne hissed, turning his head to project his voice away from Charlie’s delicate eardrums.

“Is everything okay?” a voice asked from the other side of the door. Sounded like Felix. “Do you… need anything?”

Part of Charlie wanted to beg for some more ibuprofen to kill the agony in his head, but another wrenching pain in his gut told him it wouldn’t stay down this time either. He heard Shayne hesitate, probably having the same realisation.

“Water might be good,” Shayne said back.

“Blanket,” Charlie choked out softly. He had a horrible feeling he wouldn’t be moving from the tiles for a long time yet.

Shayne sighed again, rubbing a hand along Charlie’s spine. “And the blanket from the sofa, Fee.”

After chucking up another sliver of whatever was still in his stomach, Charlie turned his head and nuzzled into the hollow between Shayne’s shoulder and neck. His body would have crumpled to the ground if it hadn’t been practically tangled up with Shayne’s.

“P-please don’leave me,” he mumbled, realising his was slurring his words.

“Love,” Shayne whispered, sighing in the way he did that let Charlie know he’d just said something mildly infuriating. He wrapped an arm around Charlie’s waist and pulled him even closer, taking even more of his weight now that the sporadic vomiting seemed to have stopped. For now. “I’d never dream of it.”

#StW Charlie #sick Charlie #emeto #emeto sickfic #headache #headache hump #headache sickfic #whump #whump fic #emeto fic #demon possession #demon OC

70 notes · View notes

sweetberrysmooch · 3 years

Text

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this-

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it,

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap.

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George.

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon.

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?”

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail.

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.”

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea.

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens.

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head.

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Schlatt.”

“Yes.”

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently.

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look.

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy.

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm.

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you.

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races.

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.”

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him.

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.”

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy-

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly.

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument.

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday.

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying.

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was.

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking.

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets.

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper.

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed.

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.”

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant.

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it.

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth.

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur.

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively.

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?”

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!”

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

259 notes · View notes

anxiouspotatorants · 2 years

Text

2.03 wasn’t as visceral to me so I didn’t think I’d need to get my thoughts out but now that I’m replaying it in my head it turns out I do:

I’m kind of starting to wonder if the crew are just full on trying to make is uncomfortable with the amount of nudity on screen. Like there was just so much in Cal’s cold open, plus the dealer in the kitchen, that at this point it feels like they’re taunting us or something. But hey at least we got one episode without full Cassie nudity?

I don’t think I’ve ever internalized just when Cal grew up and how that affected his relationship to his sexuality, so it was nice to get that context onscreen. But like, it still doesn’t justify what he’s done as a grown adult. Also I kind of want his wife’s side of things too now, because him and Nate both seem to villify her in their minds.

With those dancing skills Rue should have auditioned for Lexi’s play, just saying it’s a much healthier hobby.

The first meta commentary was nice but it would not have been as strong if not for the fact that it was introducing the «how to get away with drugs» segment. Which was devastatingly good. Like the addiction plotline is by far the strongest part of the show.

Speaking of meta Lexi’s family show?? The way the entire set revealed itself and the look of the show broke down and got this clean cookie cutter behind the scenes look? Lexi is growing to become one of my favourite parts of the show right now.

Was the Cassie ritual funny in a dark way? Yes. Is the actress showing off her great comedy chops? Definitely. Is her plot understandable and made with a clear intention? Yup. Do I wish Cassie took her own advice and stayed the f**k away from Nate, even if it meant a less exciting storyline? Very much.

Elliot was so close to becoming genuinely likeable to me (like the truth or dare friendship montage was sort of cute) but then he decided to flirt with Jules in the weirdest and slightly neggiest way, so when you put that together with the fact that 90% of the reason he’s even here is to be another source of drugs for Rue, you just get a character I like seeing but don’t actually like personally.

It was kind of quiet on Kat’s end this episode so I wonder how her storyline is going to get more screentime. I very much think her plotline is interesting, but it doesn’t look like the show does at the moment?

What is Ashtray doing. Like, yes Cal is an asshole and Ashtray has grown up in a criminal environment but even Fez is trying to get that kid to calm down this violence is just not looking like it’s going to end well.

Speaking of, Cal metaphorically showing his entire ass to Fez, Ashtray and Faye was honestly a chef’s kiss moment. The fact that he gets to be pathetic shows that he’s not unbeatable which makes me hope that Nate isn’t unbeatable either.

I know it probably isn’t the last time we see Ali but please don’t let this be the last time we see Ali we need Ali keep Ali I am once again begging-

Maddy. Sweetheart. Do not let Nathaniel Jacobs into an expensive house you don’t own with a sleeping child that is bound to wake up and become traumatized by whatever happens between the two of you. I know you at least want some closure moment but not here.

Saw the promo for 2.04 and I am once again scared. It kind of looks like next episode is going to be an overdose episode. And Cassie’s party spiral. And apparently a lot of violence. And I genuinely don’t know who or what Rue is declaring her love to.

#like nudity has gone from ‘uncomfortable but mostly understandable’ in season 1 and the specials #to ‘are you just doing it to MAKE us uncomfortable now??’#but damn it the plots are still so great #it is only three episodes in and I remember the season’s ethos so I’m holding out hope that something is going to change on that end #the potato live reacts #the potato rants #hbo euphoria #euphoria #euphoria spoilers

19 notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

cloud nine | teaser/intro

SERIES RELEASE DATE: 04/09/2021

⟼ perfectly wrong ⟼ restart

☁ series masterlist ☁ cloud nine playlist ☁

summary: 2 years later, your marriage to taehyung brings people back from your past, new hardships with your bestfriends and tiny roommates who get away with everything just by being cute?

pairing: reader x husband!kth

genre: marriage au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 1.8k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, entire teaser/intro is a flashback.

⟲ FLASHBACK

"Wake up." You say softly, shaking Taehyung next to you in bed. "Waaake up, Tae." You whine. After a couple of more shakes, Taehyung slowly opens his eyes to your pout. He chuckles as he rubs his eyes and stretches a bit.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Why aren't you waking up more excited?! Today's the day!" He laughs and wraps his arms around you, gently laying his head on your tummy. He presses a kiss on your growing belly before rubbing the surface with his soft, warm hands, making you smile.

"Babygirl, you cant expect me to get my life together in the 5 seconds you took to wake me up."

"Well, have you gotten your life together yet?" You ask, slightly impatient as you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger and tug lightly.

"5 more minutes." He says, pretending to snore on top of your belly. He lets out a small snort when he hears you continuing to whine at him. "God, you win everything. I'm up." He plants one more kiss on your stomach before he sits up to plant a kiss on your lips.

"Finally." You scrunch your nose as you look into his deep, chocolate eyes.

“Goodmorning, beautiful.” He says to you before looking down at your stomach. "And good morning, munchkin. Can't wait to find out if you're gonna be a baby boy or girl."

"It's a girl, I know it." You say as you slowly get yourself out of the bed to get ready for the day. You walk into the closet to grab some clothes before heading into the bathroom to take a quick body shower and pamper yourself for a bit.

"If you say so, sweetheart." Taehyung chuckles, following you into the bathroom to get himself ready as well. He stands over the sink as he lazily brushes his teeth before fixing his bed hair as much as possible. He lets you have your peace in the shower to walk into the closet and pulls out a comfy, but presentable outfit for the day. The weather wasn't too bad for the fall season - sun was out providing warmth, but the air was still cold.

By the time he had slipped into his clothes, he walks back to the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch you lather yourself up and get into your outfit of choice. He chuckles a bit, a big smile plastered on his face when you catch him watching you.

"What?" You look at him confusingly.

"I don't know, you're just cute."

"What am I doing?" You ask, adjusting the shirt over your belly before fixing up your hair.

"You don't have to do anything for me to think so." He says, coming over to kiss you on the cheek, lightly brushing the hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry now." You apply a bit of lip balm to your lips before looking back up at him.

"What do you wanna eat?"

"I don't know."

"Mhm. You know what you want baby, don't lie."

"I really don't." You shrug, trying to lay out some options in your head. You arch your eyebrow as your hands rest on your belly, giving it a good rub or two. Literally, everything seemed like a good option. It was about to be lunch time and you could go for either ends of the spectrum - breakfast/brunch, straight up lunch, dinner, dessert.

"Don't think too hard now."

"I kind of want Squat and Gobble." Taehyung nods in approval, lips slightly poking out.

"Whatever you want, babygirl. I'll take you there." He says, making his way out of the bathroom. "Now chop chop, so we can get your cute ass some food." You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, fixing little things here and there before heading out to meet your husband in the living room. He helps you put on your coat before the two of you walk out to the car, Taehyung instantly turning on the heat to make sure you're comfortable. Getting to Squat and Gobble, you find yourself getting excited by the smell that surrounded the restaurant. Ooh lord, you couldn't wait to eat a good meal before heading to the doctor's. This child was begging for it, too! After getting escorted to a table, the both of you get situated to start looking through the menu.

"Damn."

"Hm?" Taehyung hums, keeping his eyes on the menu.

"I want everything." You pout.

"You and this metabolism of yours, love. Seriously."

"Me and this baby, you mean."

"Mm-mm, no. Don’t go blaming our baby. You wanted everything all the time, way before I popped this baby into you."

"Taehyung.” You shake your head. “Not true."

"Actually, 100% true." Taehyung nods. "So, let me guess. You're either gonna get the Eggs Benedict or the Nor Cal Omelette with a side of Belgian Waffles. Am I right or am I right?" You laugh and shake your head.

"You're right, and you're right."

"Which one is it gonna be?"

"I want the omelette." You say excitedly. He simply smiles at you, catching himself feeling butterflies in his stomach. God, you were everything to him. So fucking beautiful, and so irresistible.

"What?" You ask, confused as to why Tae was staring at you again. "Why are you staring at me like that again?" You slightly chuckle as you watch him bite onto his bottom lip before looking back down and shaking his head.

"Nothing."

"Say it."

"I just love you."

"I love you too." You blush.

"So, has my lady thought of any baby names?"

"Not really, have you?"

"A bit." He chuckles. "If it was a boy, I was thinking Masao. Or, Grey. Iseul. They all roll off my tongue pretty nicely." He says, looking out into space.

"Those are cute. What about girl names?"

"Oh, a whole list." He sips his water. "Miyako. Anya. Seiko. Nabi. Yumi. I honestly could go on."

"Have you been doing your research or something? These are better names than what I would've came up with." You laugh.

"What, I can't have any creative juices flowing through my veins too?"

"Mhm, sure. I'm gonna check your history tab later on the laptop."

"Shit." He playfully whispers. "No but really, baby. Don't they all sound nice?"

"Yes, they do." You smile. "I'm impressed, Kim Taehyung."

"I know, I make you proud." He smirks.

"I only thought of like, two names this entire time."

"That's it?" He snickers.

"Well, clearly you got the whole list ready so I no longer have to worry." You playfully shrug.

"You don't. Let Daddy take care of it." He wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh. He's for sure not gonna let this one go, not for a long, long time. At this point, your plates are placed in front of you two, the table mostly silent as you both dig in and devour your food. Taehyung only chimes in every now and then about Jimin or Namjoon, or his mom and dad. When you both finish your meal, Tae sits back and lets out a hefty breath while he stretches.

"Full?" You ask, sipping on the last of your water.

"Yup. You ready to go soon, love? Your appointment is coming up real quick." He says checking his watch. You simply nod as Taehyung pays for the food before the two of you head out. In the car, you had been feeling the butterflies attacking all at once. You looked down at your belly, smiling to yourself as you rubbed the surface. You were so excited to hear the news from the doctor being that you and Taehyung had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Everything seemed so surreal.

Your career as a new illustrator was going strong. 2Peace was still going strong. Your husband's career on the executive team was at its highest. Your friends were all thriving. This baby.

Everything just seemed to be falling into place. And you were hoping it could be like this for a long time. You were hoping it could stay like this.

After checking in at the doctor's office, you sit next to Taehyung, who is now reading an art magazine. You take a deep breath, causing Tae to grab your hand and press a gentle kiss on top of it. He continues to rub your hand with his thumb as he returns his attention on the magazine sitting on his lap and flips through it with his free hand. You were on time for your appointment, and you were really hoping you didn't have to wait for long simply because you had become way too excited.

"You okay?" Tae asks, noticing your leg continuously bouncing up and down.

"Yeah, I just wanna go in already." He chuckles.

"Patience, baby. He'll get to you, alright?" Your bottom lip pokes out in a pout, making Taehyung lean forward to give you a kiss. "You do that on purpose, don't you?"

"Do what on purpose?"

"Pout so I could kiss you."

"No, babe. I'm just expressing my feelings."

"Mhhhhm." He smirks.

"Besides, I never had to force you to give me kisses." You smile confidently.

"Alright, okay. I rest my case, your honor." He clicks his teeth. "See, you win that too."

"Mrs. Kim?" The medical assistant came to the door, causing you and Taehyung to stand - the both of you trying your best to contain your excitement. She takes you to the back to check your vitals and run through the usual routine before leaving you and Taehyung to your peace until the doctor comes knocking. As you get yourself situated on the bed, Taehyung decides to take a picture of you, his beloved wife, and your baby bump. He had been really good about capturing these moments, and you were grateful for it. He gives off a small giggle when he checks the picture, letting you know he's about to send it his mom and dad and all your friends.

Caption:

Can't wait to find out if we have ourselves a baby Tete or baby Y/N.

Sooner or later, the doctor comes in, making small talk with you and Taehyung. He gets the monitor ready, warning you about the cold gel that's about to make contact with your belly. Taehyung tries to take a peek at the monitor, but with the doctor being in the way, he couldn't catch a glimpse of anything. Neither can you, being that you're laying back and can barely see over your hump.

"Everything looks absolutely perfect, and that's all I can ask for. Now, tell me - would you like to know what the sex is?" The doctor smiles from ear to ear as he turns towards you and Tae.

"Yes sir, please. Enlighten us." Taehyung says, standing next to you as you lay silently on the bed, gripping your hand tightly . The doctor checks the monitor once more before chuckling and turning back towards you. "Congratulations! You have yourselves some baby girls!" You put your hand over your mouth as you gasp.

"Wait, wait - did you just say baby girls?" Taehyung's eyes light up as the doctor nods happily.

"Sure did." He points to the monitor. "You got yourself some twin girls right there.”

185 notes · View notes

kashimos-hajime · 3 years

Text

reunion pt. 2 (6/8) | r.b.

summary: The blue and white Wings of Freedom crumple as the cape falls, spread out by the wind like true wings. Or, the winter after Shiganshina is frigid with change.

WARNINGS: mentions of heavy injuries, depression, angst all around, swearing, levi gives some advice, blood pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 8.2k

a/n: we’re nearing the end!!! ahh thats crazy adnkasln. not much reiner this chapter unfortunately but he will return next chapter!!

masterlist

crossposted on ao3!

You land heavily on your left leg, hand on Jean’s shoulder to soften the blow to your right as you watch Hange wrestle Mikasa back. Eyes widening, you sweep the rooftop—from Levi, to Erwin, to the burnt corpse that has to be…

“Don’t tell me…”

“Armin?”

“It can’t be…”

Bertholdt. Your eyes fall to his steaming body, marks of his Titan still imprinted on his face and you fall forward. Limbs chopped to the bone, blood pooling underneath him, a cloud of steam surrounding him. You’re the only one left.

Rising to his feet, Jean’s grip is iron on your shoulder, clamping onto the joint so hard you’re sure it’ll break and you look up at him, watery breaths puffing past your lips. He stares down at you, regret sewn into his features, but even so, there’s a hard determination in them.

You know what has to be done, he seems to say. Covering his hand with your own, a shooting pain splits your chest open as Levi looks from Erwin to Armin, back again—an impossible choice. You’re not jealous at all of the captain, deciding the fate of two soldiers who are both just as important, but for some reason, you can’t even think about Armin or Commander Erwin.

You smell the terrible perfume of burnt flesh mixed with the smoke and dust of the ruins of Shiganshina, the blood in your mouth, the sweat lingering heavily around them. It reminds you of Trost, of Reiner holding you as he told you Marco had died. You somehow can’t think of anything else.

It’s not until Levi tells them to get that you can tear your eyes off Bertholdt’s slumbering face. He looks almost peaceful and you reach a limp hand for him but Jean tugs at your shoulder, and you look at him.

“Come on,” he utters softly, and you let him help you up, hopping on your broken leg with a grimace. You can do this, you tell yourself as Captain Levi drags Bertholdt towards the commander by the scruff. Whatever happens, at least it’s for good, right? Please, just sleep, Bertholdt. I don’t want you to suffer anymore than you already have.

“Captain Levi, can I—“ Your voice comes out from your chest, surprising everyone there including yourself, and the bloody captain freezes, turning to look at you. You set your jaw, limping away from Jean who tries to stop you. “I just want to say goodbye.”

Levi’s eyes search yours, and then flicker to Hange, still holding Mikasa. A beat passes.

“Make it quick,” he allows. “The rest of you, scram.” The sound of ODM gear splits the air, iron wire screeching as the Scouts left head towards a distant rooftop. Walking towards the captain, you give him a weary look as he sets down Bertholdt’s body.

Crashing to your knees, you reach a hand to brush the dark hair out of his eyes, and his forehead doesn’t even crease when your fingertips brush over his brow. Overwhelmed, you can only gently trace the Titan markings on his cheeks, hollowed out patches of skin that outline his bones, reveal the muscle pulling his face together.

“Bertl,” you whisper. “Why didn’t you just kill me?” You wait for an answer that’ll never come, hand flattening against his warm cheek, and you feel his gentle breath against your fingers as your eyes begin to burn. “Why didn’t either of you just kill me? If we’re all devils, what made me so special?” You blink, and the tears fall down your face, land on his chest in gentle splatters. With your other hand, you cradle his face completely in your palms, and you bow your head.

“Nothing’s special about you,” Levi mutters, and your head snaps up to see him standing over Bertholdt’s body, nothing but a cold indifference struggling to find its place in his eyes. “They just decided you were. That’s all it was.”

His words sting, but nonetheless, you don’t let it faze you. You draw your hands back towards your lap.

“Captain, please keep it quick. I don’t want him to suffer,” you whisper, and you meet blue-grey eyes resolutely before pulling yourself up. “I don’t think I’ll survive hearing him scream.”

“Hurry up and go,” he orders. “I’ll be as merciful as I can.” Nodding numbly to yourself, you glance down at Bertholdt one last time, before heading towards the edge of the roof and launching yourself back towards the others. Mikasa helps ease you down to your knees and you send her a grateful look before shuffling in between Jean and Connie. Watching the captain’s green figure crouch beside the Commander’s, your nerves are shot and your headache only begins to intensify.

“Armin,” Eren’s muffled sob pricks at your ear but you ignore him, eyes trained on the singular figure arched over the apex of the roof.

“What’s taking him so long?” Jean mutters.

“Maybe the transformation isn’t instantaneous?” Connie suggests.

“If that were the case, the captain would’ve left and watched the commander transform from a safe distance.” Leaning forward, one of your hands plant on the wood of the apex on the gabled roof as the cloaked figure stands. Together, the Scouts watch as Levi turns around, walking to the other end of the roof towards a black, burnt body. Ragged, wet gasps tear the air as Eren lunges forward. Mikasa grabs his arm, hauling him back, and your eyes widen.

He’s going back for Armin, you realize distantly. He changed his mind. Why? How could he—

There isn’t time for questions. As soon as the captain seems to inject the fluid, he kicks Armin’s body off the roof before turning around and grabbing Commander Erwin’s body. Hange lets out a soft noise, sprinting off the roof towards their friend while the rest can only watch as lightning splits the air for just a flash of a second, destroying the back end of the home. Splinters and debris go flying as steam arises from the spot where lightning struck and the two senior officers retrieve the commander, retreating to a roof a distance away.

Only a few more seconds. Bertholdt has to stay unconscious for just a few more seconds. Jean’s hand on your shoulder is iron-like again, nails digging through your jacket, a silent warning that you don’t have to watch, but you’re frozen to your spot, waiting.

The shrill sound of wood ripping fills the air, even from where they watch, as one bony claw reaches through the steam. What follows—a blond head, a body more skeleton than flesh, and a gaping mouth.

Armin. His name sounds foreign in your head as he reaches Bertholdt.

You hear the first sob as he plants a hand onto his prey, lifting him into the air.

“No!” Raw and burning, Bertholdt’s screams brand into your eardrums as he thrashes as hard as he can in Armin’s grip but he’s nothing more than a limbless body and a head. Your world splits open as he’s raised through the sky. The fear fractures your chest, the desperation sinks into your skin, and you want to tear your eyes out but your fingers remain dug into the ridge as he screams wetly. Your hand is blistering, on fire along your fingers, and blood congeals on your tongue.

For the rest of your days, you will remember the moment his eyes found yours, bulging wide with untamed, unnatural dread.

“Guys, please!” Sobbing, his voice grows hoarse as Armin’s jaw unhinges. “Help me!” Head snapping, swinging, whipping any which way until he can free himself, the way his neck thrashes makes your stomach roll. Your legs are begging for orders, begging to spring forward to save him as the shadow of a Titan falls over his face.

Bertholdt screams your name and it pierces through, a bullet that shatters every nerve as your eyes begin to burn. Your teeth clench before you’re pushing off the roof, boots gritting against tile

“Bertholdt!” Pain spirals through your entire body as you take one step before an arm wraps around your neck, flinging you back. You fall onto your spine, the breath knocked out of you and your feet kick out, ODM gear clanking against the tile. Hands surrounding you, pinning you down, and you flail your arms and legs, nails clawing at anything you can make contact with, gasping for air, for space, for anything. “Bertholdt! No! No! Please!”

Vision blurring, you try to make out your captors as a knee presses into your wrist and another slams into your shoulder. Breath shuddering, your feet lash at the air, desperately trying to push yourself away from the others to save him. You have to save him—Captain Levi said it’d be merciful—

“Hold her down! Shit!”

“I’m trying!”

“Bertholdt!” Your throat begins to bleed and you taste the fire in your lungs as your head slams backwards, your back arching off the roof. Tears sear into your skin. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a furious sob, heaving and wheezing before your mouth falls open and a burning scream bursts from your chest. Ribs poking into every inch of your flesh, your hands fly up to dig into elbows. Whoever you hold onto do not wince and you hear a jagged voice, wrought with anguish.

“Go! Go get Armin and make sure he’s okay. I have her—“

“But, Jean—“

“Connie! Go with Eren and Mikasa. We’ll be okay.” The knee on your shoulder lifts and you immediately swing your fist at Jean, clocking him in the cheek and knocking him off you. Throwing yourself up, you scramble forward and wipe at your face but the tears still do not cease. You can barely see.

Your heart decays, a cold, throbbing agony filling you as you scan the square. You see the blonde Titan just in view behind the house, collapsed on his stomach, steaming more and more as someone erupts from the nape.

The agony numbs.

So, that’s it then.

Bertholdt’s…

Crumpling in on yourself, your fingers clasp at the base of your neck and you curl into a ball, eyes sliding shut. Everything inside you falls apart, shattering into a million pieces and the walls around you begin to fall in, the fatigue and pain and heartache piling on top of you, burying you, blocking out the sun, you’ve lost everything, you have no one.

You couldn’t even save Bertholdt—

“Jean, go to the others.” Fingers tightening around your head, your tears scorch as they fall into your hairline, disappearing in all the grime and dust and blood staining your body. “I’ll deal with this.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Shoulders shaking, your breath puffs hot against your face and you’re panting for air as your back kinks painfully. Stabbing sensations nestled right underneath your shoulder blades, you begin to wheeze, face beginning to flush, body beginning to grow number and number until you can’t even feel the pain anymore of shattered bones.

All you can hear is Bertholdt screaming for you to help him, the silence of your body.

Why couldn’t you move?

Failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure.

It spells itself out, digs its talons into your brain and pries you open until you’re sobbing harder into the stone. Your heart thuds in your mouth, large and swollen, as hands grip your shoulders, wrenching you up. On instinct, cold air seeps into your chest and you let out a gasp, face in pieces as you lift it to the sky.

“Hey!” Your eyes spring open as the hands on your shoulders grow more insistent and you lower your wet stare to Levi who is already studying with his quicksilver gaze. You feel everything inside you drain out. His teeth are bared in a tight scowl, and you still tremble in the aftershocks but he only holds on tighter. “Give yourself a moment, then pull yourself together. We still have a job to do. After that, I’ll give you as much time as you want to cry your little eyes out.”

“Captain—“ Your voice breaks, and Levi’s eyes flicker as you stare right through him. He lets go, drawing his hands back to himself. “Do you think it hurt?”

He pauses, deliberates this. “I think the fear was probably the worst part. If it hurt, it was only for one intense moment. Arlert crushed his head open,” he informs and your heart becomes a stone in your chest. “Now, come on. I’ll splint your leg and then we’re moving Erwin.”

“But, but Armin—“

“Do you really want to see him right now?” he cuts off sharply, and you wince as he stands. “Hange will take care of the others. You’re coming with me.”

Weakly, you mumble out his name, but he doesn’t stop as you struggle to your feet, following after him. You wipe at your face with sweaty hands, but it doesn’t help at all, only smearing it all over your exhausted features. Lungs still spasming in the occasional hiccups, you let your smashed, bruised fingers fall uselessly.

Captain Levi leads you to a demolished square near the Wall where Hange is already piling supplies, Commander Erwin’s body laid to rest. Eyes widening, you look at his corpse before looking at Levi who only looks over the body in passing before walking to a crate and ordering for you to sit down.

“We’ll be going over the Wall. I need to know you’re in shape to keep moving.”

“The others are bringing Armin back here before we start searching for survivors,” Hange informs.

You nod as Levi cuts away your pant leg and you grimace when you realize how swollen it is along your shin. Shaking his head to himself, he yanks your boot off and begins to wrap a nearby piece of wood he found and broke into the right length to your leg, splinting the bones tightly. Your bruised and broken fingers dig into the crate with every wince but he keeps going and going as you look down at him.

He slips the final round underneath the layers of cloth before stuffing your foot back into your boot despite the pressure mounting as soon as he does.

He steps back and you stand unsteadily. The pain is even worse, now, but you’re just going to have to be stuck with it. You’re sure walking around on a broken leg isn’t good for the health, but it shouldn’t matter. There’s still work to do.

“How much gas do you have?”

“Enough,” you reply, patting your ODM gear and he nods.

“I’m refilling once we get over the wall. All our supplies are probably knocked everywhere so grab as much as you can on the way back.”

“Yes, sir.”

The battlefield reeks of the tang of blood and shit. The air is hot and heavy under the beginnings of a warmer afternoon, and your stomach roils at the bloody mist still tinting the air. This was a massacre—nothing less—and you swallow your nausea, picking your way through the battlefield.

They search for a singular thing, but with the amount of red on the field, you can’t pick out what used to be brown from what used to be green.

“It would’ve been closer to the houses than the others,” Levi mutters. “Forster said he was hit first.” You nod, turning around and examining the land they’ve already traversed.

Standing beside your captain, your eyes widen when you catch sight of the only white on the field. It reminds you of the flags they’d teach about in cadet corps—white meant fall back, white meant give up.

White meant nothing Commander Erwin stood for, and you let out a soft gasp. Levi’s gaze snaps to you.

“Commander Erwin’s horse,” you finally croak, lifting a dead finger to point at the steed. It lays limp, dirty, and the more you focus on it, the more you can make out its features. His eyes are closed, and you could’ve believed the stallion was asleep as you approach it and crouch down slowly, touching the horse’s cheek. “Sleep well.”

“What a fucking shitstorm,” Levi murmurs as you push yourself up. He tugs your elbow to help you, and you send him an appreciative glance but you find he’s already looking at everything else, haunted pale gaze searching for something.

He looks starving for his target, greedy, and you look away. There’s blood that hasn’t steamed away from his face, and you don’t want to think about whose it could be.

You turn to see where the dirt had been imprinted on in an odd-long oval shape, different from the thousands of hoofprints stomped into the mud. A drag mark, carved into the soft mud. Following the trail, your throat begins to close up as you hobble beside it, only stopping when you finally find what they’re looking for.

You see the green cape, soaked in red, dragging at the ground, muddied and soiled, stepped all over and half-buried.

Nonetheless, you reach down pick it up, flapping what dry crumbs you can off the fabric and folding it over your arm before glancing over to where Levi stands near the horse’s head, staring at the patch of blood soaking the dirt.

“Captain, I found it.” You tilt your head heavily. “Captain?” Returning to his side, you try to find what he’s looking at. Following his gaze, you frown warily at the patch where the mud is saturated red, the grass still drinking in the blood like it’s been stuck in a drought and it mixes like a sickly stew.

Commander Erwin’s blood, you realize after a moment. Nausea sluices through you and you blink away the burning. The idea of him, cold, lying in the blood and awake, listening to his troops die around him…

“Captain, I found it,” you whisper rawly. As if your words break the trance Levi has put himself in, he looks up, shaking his shoulders out.

“Finally, he’ll have something to cover himself with,” he mutters at last, grabbing the cape from you, and you only look at your captain. At the rough, deep quality in his tone you’ve never heard before as he clears his throat. “Idiot.”

“Sir, don’t you mean buried with?” you ask timidly, and he shakes his head. “We’re not going to leave him here, are we?”

“We’re not bringing him back with us. By all means, his dream lived here and he died here. He fought his whole life to get here—I’m not going to be the one to take him away from that.”

Take him away from his mission, you hear in your head. Who is Captain Levi to decide that? Who are you to decide? Erwin stays here. It makes sense. I stay here. They had a mission. Who was I? Who was I to tell them to stop because of me?

“I’ll come back,” Levi continues, promises, but not to you, “to bury him. When this is all over. He deserves a proper burial.” Lips pressing together, you swallow down your words, and bow your head. After an unknowable amount of time, Levi finally sighs, shoulders caving, and starts walking back to the Wall. The green is clutched tight in his fist. You stand by the blood stain, the tip of your boot beside the head of the horse who could’ve been sleeping and he calls out, voice sharp and normal again: “C’mon. We can’t hang around—“

“I want to help you bury him,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and Levi freezes in his spot. Swallowing, you close your eyes for a moment, feel every nerve inside you pulse, before you fix your gaze on the Wings of Freedom printed on Levi’s back. “I know it’s not my place, but Commander Erwin gave me a chance to prove I wasn’t weak and I failed him. I need to make it up to him somehow.”

Levi sighs softly before continuing on and you limp after him as fast as you can, catching up after a few pained grunts. Your leg is blistering, burning from the inside out, but nothing has scorched you more than your tears, so in comparison, you almost feel relieved.

“Some things I have to do on my own, you understand that?”

Despite yourself, the faintest ripple in your lips that could’ve been a smile runs through your face before disappearing as if it were never there. It’s something he’s told you so many times during your suspension and you dip your head.

“Of course, sir.”

He nods numbly. “Okay, then.”

The others went to the basement and you’re left here.

Someone calls your name softly as you sit on the edge of the wall, looking at the ruins of Shiganshina hollowly. Raising your head, you see Armin standing, and you sweep your gaze for a moment before turning to look at the city again. He sits uninvited next to you and you barely resist the urge to ask him to leave you alone, reminding yourself you have no reason to be angry with him.

He didn’t eat Bertholdt on purpose. It’s just how the cards were dealt, how the dice was rolled. The pieces on the chess board lined up, and they had a chance to seize a game-winning piece.

Armin twiddles his thumbs. Your shoulders slump forward.

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” you intone quietly. “What matters is that you’re okay.”

“Yeah, but I ate Bertholdt, and I know—“

“Armin, don’t.” He falls quiet, and you look at him desolately. “There really isn’t anything we can do about it, now. At the end of the day, they’re gone, and I’m still here. You’re still here, and Bertholdt isn’t. That’s all.”

“I know.”

“I really am happy that you’re okay, Armin. I’m so grateful that you could come back, and that our side managed to get another Titan power. Maybe we can turn the tides, but…”

Knowingly, he finishes it for you, “But the price was too high for you.”

The words make you flinch and you don’t correct him.

“They could’ve killed me so many times. I’m starting to wonder why they didn’t,” you whisper mostly to yourself. A doe blue gaze fall on your cheek, and you close your eyes, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“Because they care about you. I could never try and kill Mikasa or Eren. I can’t even imagine it, so the fact that you tried to put those feelings aside for duty, I think that’s saying a lot more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

You scowl at his words, hating the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks again. You’re drained, dried out, yet still, more tears are always coming even when you think you’re done.

“Armin, if I took the multiple chances I had to kill Bertholdt, to kill Reiner, I think both you and Commander Erwin would be alive. Captain Levi would’ve never had to make such an impossible choice, and—“ And maybe I could remember how to breathe without all this weight on my chest. But you don’t say that. Instead, quietly, you plead, “Can you just… leave me alone? I don’t want to talk, right now.”

Armin’s lips upturn into a hurt frown, but you only stare at the space just in front of your knees, focus fixed on some imaginary spot. Before long, he’s pushing himself to his feet and walking back to Sasha, and you clasp your hands, watching the city blankly.

For some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the time you and Annie had walked the walls the day before graduation, finding Reiner and Bertholdt up there, too. How had that only been a few months ago?

It feels like years, now.

Without a second thought, you pick yourself up slowly, your splinted leg awkwardly colliding with the stone. Levi told you to get some rest, but…

You begin to walk away from the others, not quite sure where you’re going. You go past Floch, who’s taking watch, and when you close your eyes, you can hear footsteps behind you—two, light and fleeting, one more sure and steady.

“Have fun in the MPs, Annie. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you.”

“You won’t be missing much.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Hey, the military ranking shouldn’t determine whether or not someone can join the MPs. What if someone’s just as good, but didn’t make it into the top ten because of how limited the spots are? It doesn’t make sense.”

A sharp laugh. “Someone needs to wash Bertholdt’s mouth, creampie. Look at him, renegading against the government.”

Eyes snapping open, you turn to look over your shoulder.

Nothing but still air.

The next few days pass in nothingness.

You’re moved to the old Scouts headquarters—where Section Commander Miche died, you still feel his ghost lingering the halls—away from the others. It’s mostly empty besides a few Garrison Regiment officers who keep an eye on you—Captain’s orders, and they’re your main source of news, even if it is just catching hints of gossip. You don’t speak to them, mostly because you’re sure they think guarding a teenager with broken bones who doesn’t even talk back is way below their pay grade.

Most of your friends aren’t keen on talking to you either, with a fair few forced exceptions, but at this point, you’ve written your report, detailing everything you did during the campaign, and you don’t want to talk to them either. You haven’t since their ride back.

They know you went back for Reiner, and, instead of striking him down, you tried to pull him free. It doesn’t matter.

You roll onto your side. Everything feels grey, time passing by inconsequentially in the rise and fall of the sun. You mostly stay in your room, content to let Shiganshina crush the ruins of your memory into dust, and you don’t recognize what day it is. Your nights are plagued with flashes of Bertholdt, the sounds of his screams ringing until you’re deaf. Reiner’s bare, burned face, steaming, eyes covered in a blindfold too tight over his skin.

The ragged gasp of your name.

There’s a knock on the door. You don’t budge from where you stare out the window, at the sun gleaming in through. It dapples on the cotton of your sheets, gentle pools of gold, and you trace one of the warm shapes absently with your wrapped, splinted fingers.

It nearly frightens you how much you don’t feel, how much you don’t care what happens to you next. The world is hollow, everything inside it scooped out and replaced with black coldness.

“I know you’re awake in there.”

Levi.

“You better be decent. I’m coming in either way.”

The door clicks and swings open.

They had a ceremony two days ago, honouring the survivors of the expedition before they could move on to a far more somber occasion today—a service for Commander Erwin at the end of the week, and the government going into a state of mourning. Flags are raised, speechs are prepared to be given, and you’re pretty sure the empty casket will be closed and buried somewhere in Mitras, empty words carved into a plaque.

Levi’s sigh breaches your ears. “Have you at least eaten today?”

“Yes.” You don’t move nor start at the creakiness in your voice. Blinking slowly, you examine a ripple in the bedsheet. “Doctor said if I didn’t, he’d break my other leg.”

“Good.” He walks to the window, and you see his shape lingering at the edge of your eyes. Tilting your head, you look at him. He looks rested, as well as he can be, but there’s a raggedness in his stature, the exhaustion engrained in his face that only comes with grief.

“The memorial is today,” you point out unhelpfully. “Will you be speaking?”

“Have to,” he mutters brusquely. “Not exactly excited to eulogize Erwin in front of a bunch of stuck-up bastards. Don’t think he would’ve minded either, if I didn’t.”

“So why are you doing it?” You shift a bit, sit up a bit straighter. There’s a pulse of silence where Levi seems to debate how to answer. His lips press into a thin, white line, and he scowls at his reflection in the pane of glass, before he exhales sharply.

“I don’t know,” he says before shifting the discussion blatantly. “Either way, you won’t hear it. You don’t need to come.”

“Sir…”

“You didn’t come to the ceremony two days ago, either,” he snorts. “I’m sure it’s no skin off your back.” He’s right, and you smile grimly. “Focus on healing.” Tugging at the lapel of his formal Survey Corps coat, he continues, “It’ll be a waste of time, anyway. Most of them spent most of their careers hating him. I doubt her Royal Majesty or any of your friends will want to be there, either.”

You swallow, sitting upright and adjusting the pillows against your back. He glances over, and rakes his gaze down your body with a critical glare.

“Would you look at that? You haven’t moulded to the futon, yet. I was starting to think you had lost your body back in Shiganshina.” He steps away from the window and turns, standing at the foot of your bed.

Clearing your throat, you reach up to scratch your collarbone and find blue-grey fixed on your fingers. “When do you think we can go back for him, Captain?”

Levi frowns, gaze flickering up to your face again.

“I don’t know. At this point, it could be months before the state declares that Wall Maria is free of Titans, especially with how small the Survey Corps are. Garrison soldiers can only help so much,” he adds grudgingly. “And the MPs are pretty much useless. Most of them. And Hange… is doing their best. Let’s just say that.” You nod again. He glances at the clock airily, then at you again. “Get some rest.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, and he studies you quickly, gauging how honest you are with your promise, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and turns around. Your stomach is a thousand stones in your stomach as he glances at the splintered wood of the wall, and his footsteps slow to a stop. Watching his profile, you wait for him to say something as he lowers his gaze to the waste bin by the door.

He doesn’t. He simply continues out the door, speaks to the soldier on guard outside your room, and disappears from your sight.

“Lunch will be in two hours,” the soldier says before closing the door. You turn to look out the window.

Two days earlier, Connie and Sasha had come bearing a bolo tie, green gem gleaming, expression somber.

“It’s yours. For your services to the Survey Corps and to Historia.”

You had the grace to wait for them to be gone before flinging it with all your might at the wall and listening to the wood splinter as it clattered to the bottom of the bin.

The snow melts as soon as it touches your nose, and you glance at Levi uneasily as he jams the tip of the shovel into the dirt. His jacket’s been shed, and you swear he could be steaming with how much sweat drenches his entire body. He had insisted on laying the Commander’s bones to rest and burying him yourself which meant you had perched yourself on the roof overhanging the little clearing they’d found. It’s off-track in an already trampled ceremony—his grave now the singular headstone in a field of a thousand bodies—but it’s somewhere he can rest, you’re sure.

Adjusting your grip on your ODM gear, you look up at the blindingly grey sky. The snow slows to a stop as you fall to one-knee, examining the terrain.

Returning to active duty had been difficult. Rehabilitation even harder. You felt like there was scrutiny everywhere you walked, and there was a strange air lingering as the summer faded and fall began.

Even now, you’re sure Levi and Hange are the only people who bother to check up on you because they want to, not because they’re obligated to remember whether or not you’re still alive.

You scratch at your neck. Eventually they had to clear out the old barracks where you’d been staying which is what you’ve been doing for the past few months to avoid any clashes with your friends, and you’d come across the chess set, untouched, the pieces still in place as if the players had simply forgotten the game.

Your fingers had brushed over the piece Reiner had called a pawn, and it felt that much heavier.

A foul poison erodes your heart as you glance down at Levi again. He’s crouched in front of the tombstone, and you look away again, at the Wall. Beyond that—

Reiner is still out there. You wonder if he thinks of you half as much as you think about him, and whether if it’s just as laced with rage and longing. Half the time, you think you could scream into his face before tearing his head off his shoulders. Other times, you just want him back. You want to see Bertholdt’s smile again. You want to hear Annie’s dry jokes.

You could cry yourself to dehydration if you thought about it enough.

A sharp whistle cracks the air and you look down. Levi’s looking up at you, shrugging his jacket back on and you lower yourself back to the ground with a burst of gas, landing beside him.

There’s a quiet in which he gives you a sharp nod and you know what to do.

Accepting the handkerchief Levi offers you, you wipe at Erwin’s grave where some mud had been kicked up on the letters before laying down the flowers you had cradled in your arm. They’re dry, the petals already crumbling, but still, despite how gloomy everything seems, it almost feels right.

You step back, squinting a bit, the handkerchief clutched tight in your hand. The tombstone is a marbled grey, polished smooth and rectangular in shape, the corner sharp enough to puncture skin. Carved into the surface is his name, birth and death date, his title—and underneath all of that:

HIS FATHER’S SON

The epitaph is almost haunting the more you look at it and you salute the headstone before letting your hand fall to your side. Staring at the tombstone too small for a man of the Commander’s stature, you feel something hot sear through your chilled body. It’s nothing he deserves.

“Do you know why you were placed under my watch for a month?”

You blink, turning to look at the Captain. He’s paled so much in the winter months, it’s hard to think you aren’t looking at a ghost. The only exceptions are his red nose, his lips, and his flaring cheeks. That and those knife-point eyes.

“Because everyone around me was a traitor,” you murmur blankly, unsure of why he’s asking. Your hands ball into tight fists as you add, “And it only made sense that I should be one, too. Who better to watch me then Humanity’s Greatest to make sure I didn’t shift into a Titan, too?”

“It’s because Commander Erwin insisted not to leave you alone,” Levi agrees, “but not because he didn’t trust you. I doubt someone like you would turn around against the only people who are there for you. I read your file. Orphaned at birth, you grew up on a farm with no close known relations.” You turn your face away, teeth gritting together, and Levi tilts his head. “The 104th were all you had. Human nature insists that we latch onto those we have left.”

“Even you, Captain?”

Levi doesn’t answer. When you look at him again, his stare on the stone is darker, laced with noxious grief. “This job isn’t pleasant. You lose enough people—even those you didn’t care for—and you either grow numb, tired, or so damaged you can’t even wake up to another day. Most people find life meaningless after a few years.”

“Right…” Struggling to find the words, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers wrapping tight around your biceps. “I don’t know where you’re going with this. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

A heavy sigh. Levi shifts his boots in the grass.

“And what are you going to do after? What’ll you set your mind to next? Working as a Scout? I doubt you’ll find any fulfillment in working with people you don’t trust.”

“That’s not true—“

“You have a knack for isolating yourself when you believe you’re unneeded. Exiling yourself to an abandoned building under the pretence of ‘cleaning it out’ can only last so long,” he cuts off sharply, eyes finding yours dully. You clench your jaw, swallowing hard. He looks back at the tomb. “Look, I’m going to tell you something, and I expect you not to speak of it again, got it?”

You nod tightly. “Of course, sir.”

“I’m aware of people misunderstanding or making assumptions of where I’ve come from. To put it simply, I was a criminal in the Underground and I ran a network with two others. They were as close to me as I assume Hoover, Braun, and Leonhart were to you.”

You nod again, slower this time.

“We joined the Survey Corps because the Commander insisted it was a better alternative to a life time’s sentence in Mitras dungeons. I’m still waiting on that promise, Erwin,” he adds without any bite. Instead, his tone almost softens. “When they died on our first expedition outside the walls, I wanted to be left alone. He was only Section Commander at the time, and Shadis insisted I should be left to the MPs.

“Erwin refused. He forced me to come to training for the next expedition, to drills, and to the events the military held every once in a while just so I wouldn’t stay in my room all day. I lashed out. I screamed at him behind closed doors, was an outright violent son of a bitch and an unpleasant one at that, but he persisted.”

Levi scoffs. “It took me a long time to grasp what he was doing besides being a nuisance. It was when I realized I was constantly at his right hand when he was promoted to Commander did I understand. Every human dies. Whether or not they sacrificed themselves for a greater cause, it will always be a selfish act in the end.”

“Selfish?” you echo. “But, Commander Erwin died for the Scouts to survive, didn’t he? If he never did, you never would’ve stopped the Beast Titan. We’d probably all be dead.”

“And who’s left to clean after his mess, huh?” he cuts coolly. “That’s what’s selfish about death—those corpses get off scot-free. Their last moments may be guilty, or afraid, but they won’t give a damn the minute they stop breathing. It’s the living who have to deal with the consequences. Grieving alone sends you into a pit that’s hard to crawl out of. You either sink, or you come out of it strong like hell, but it’s easier when something’s at the top, so to speak. Telling you to get off your ass and climb out.”

He scowls, and his glare narrows at the epitaph as he half-heartedly kicks some of the disturbed dirt at Erwin’s headstone, but it’s less malicious and almost as if, even now, Levi wants to point fingers at Erwin. “I don’t know. Metaphors were always this idiot’s strong suit. All I know is how to cut down Titans.”

Your shoulders sink. “Captain Levi…”

“He’s why I volunteered to supervise. I remember what our gracious Commander told me,” he says quietly. “It’s a lonely life we walk. The people who stay are the ones we have to hold onto with both hands and all our might.”

You soak in his words silently, tracing the carved E in the stone with your eyes. Levi sighs, lowering his head and shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He seems to shake his head to himself, pale eyes darkening, lips twisting into a furious scowl. You know that scowl well—it’s the type of face one pulls when they’re trying to hide how real fucking sad they are.

You look away. You shouldn’t be seeing this.

“Suppose that doesn’t matter, though,” he murmurs. “They can slip through either way. What you need to do now is keep moving. You keep them in your memory, and you keep moving, but stop letting them haunt you. Find a new purpose, or it’ll be meaningless and you’ll realize you should’ve died, not those poor bastards who devoted their hearts to what they wanted.” He tilts his head back to the sky. Softly, then: “No one else can do that for you.”

You slide your own hands into your pockets, pull it tighter around yourself. “What if I don’t know what to do? What I want with my life?”

The first raindrop hits him first. A gentle splash against his nose that makes his eyes flutter, but not close. The next hit you, tapping against your skull that soothes the ache in your chest.

“Keep moving on, anyway, until you find it. It’s no good to stand around thinking about what should’ve been or what you could’ve done. Regret begets regret—have enough and it’ll start affecting your choices. Don’t have any when you go, and maybe you’ll live a life happier than most.”

You nod. Your neck feels tired. For lack of anything else, you manage to say, “Captain Levi… I’m really sorry for your loss.”

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there, fixing your gaze at the gravestone for a moment more, before bowing your head and saying your thank you to the fallen Commander. You turn around.

“I’ll wait for you by the Wall, sir,” you murmur. He nods, still staring up at the sky as if he can see something you cannot. You study his profile for a moment, then begin to walk away.

Riding back to Trost, the weight slowly returns, bearing down on your shoulders as if you can already feel the thousand-pound stares. The elevators are lowered and they step on, dismounting quickly to ease the horses. Garrison soldiers are posted along with a singular Scout, and you frown when you reach the top.

“Jean?”

He smiles grimly. “How was it?”

“Shitty, I guess.”

And you leave it at that. Jean watches you critically, surveying your form, but you only stand on the edge of the Wall, looking at a world that’s about to get much bigger.

In truth, you don’t know how to answer. Your whole body is heavy, only going through the movements as Levi climbs up next to you. He takes the reins of your horse as well and heads off without a second word. You watch him go as he walks towards the nearest building, presumably to find the nearest elevator down the other side of the Wall.

Sighing, you turn around to face the land you’ve just travelled. Wall Maria stands in the distance. Your gaze fixes on nothing, staring through, and you wonder if you’re just as ghostly as you think you are. All you can hear is the sound of Bertholdt, screaming for you to save him.

The land is barren, desolating to even look at it with the faint rain muddying everything and dulling all the colours. The grass is brown, the trees frail and empty. Nothing like a few months ago when everything seemed so promising of life.

“One day, we’ll be eating like this every day,” you had told Annie during a visit to Trost once. She was quiet, her blue eyes focused on the cream bun but softer than you thought was normal. Her lips curved into a faint smile as you added, “Just imagine it. Us as the dream team in the MPs, solving assignments together, and eating sweets in the inner Wall. It sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“I guess.”

How did that dream turn into this nightmare? It’s like every part of you has been chopped off until you’re nothing but a bleeding body and a heart struggling to find the energy to pulse another second. Your limbs are gone, bleeding, ravaged, your head’s aching, and you feel every shadow held back by Annie’s fierce stare, Bertholdt’s arms, Reiner’s body shielding you, swarm you all at once now that they’re no longer there to protect you.

Joining the military had numbed your body, and Bertholdt and Reiner had cut you off at the knees. And Annie…

Annie had spelt out tragedy on your throat in blood. If only you hadn’t ignored the red dripping down your neck, staining every word you breathed, maybe you could’ve stopped this.

You are wrestling for a way to keep crawling towards the light, but you will never be fast enough. Captain Levi had been right. Now that you’re alone, the pit is steeper than the walls, steeper than your fear, and the idea of waking up, of walking side by side with people who you’ve turned your back on for traitors, makes you nauseous.

They don’t deserve your half-hearted loyalty.

Your shoulders fall at that revelation, and your eyes close when you realize what you want.

It’s something you told Reiner, a million years ago.

No more bloodshed, no more war. There didn’t have to be water, there just had to be him—but even so, that can’t happen anymore.

The former, however…

“We don’t hate you, you know,” Jean says. “None of us blame you for what happened. You can still come back.”

“That’s really nice of you, Jean,” you murmur blankly as your hands move on their own accord. “But I just can’t let this go.”

You reach up to your neck, and pull the green cloak away from your throat. Drawing it off your shoulders, you hold it in your hands, the blue and white wings of freedom dull in the pale light. You run a hand through the fabric, over the stitched insignia that once meant so much to you before you step closer to the edge. Jean’s eyes snap to you.

Freedom feels like nothing when everyone who was supposed to stand next to you the day you achieved it is gone.

Fists tightening in the green, you clench your teeth and with a silent exhale, you fling it off the side of the wall. Jean lets out a strangled noise, and together, the two watch as it flutters to the bottom of the wall.

The blue and white Wings of Freedom crumple as the cape falls, spread out by the wind like true wings.

“What are you doing?” he asks roughly as your hands move next to your belt. Undoing the clasp, the metal collides with your frigid, mended fingers, and your skin begins to burn as he grabs your arm, trying to stop you. “Hey—“

You jerk out of his grip, not looking at him. You don’t think you can.

“I need to find a new life, Jean,” you murmur, your stomach flipping, your heart wilting, your words carrying in the wind. “This one is finished.”

“No. No, your life is here.”

Your face burns as you blink, something warm trailing down your cheeks, but Jean only grabs you by the shoulders, trying to make you look at him but still, you continue to detach yourself from the contraption. He turns you, shaking you gently, but not even an immovable object can stall the unstoppable force of your hands.

Throat cinching shut, you stare at his chest as your ODM gear falls to the ground in an ungraceful crash. The hollow thud of the containers rattles your body and you look down at your gear that’s brought you so far.

“Don’t do this,” Jean murmurs. “You’re a Scout. Don’t let them make you give up.”

“No one’s making me give up, Jean.” You finally look up, look right through him, and Jean flinches back, his hands loosening and you take the opportunity to twist, shoving your gear off the wall with one swift kick. Heat shoots up your leg and the pain warms your entire body.

ODM gear falls, nothing more than deadweight, and it clanks against the wall before bouncing off the stone, and Jean jumps off, deploying his own gear to try and catch the tech before it can crash, damaged beyond repair, at the bottom.

Staring at his figure for a moment, you wonder if the harrowing feeling in your chest will last you forever, or just for now while you wait for something to take its place.

You’re not sure. But you do know a part of you feels lighter. You do know that a part of you just wants to go home and sleep.

Turning, you walk after Captain Levi, follow his trail to the building, and when Jean reaches the top of the wall again, you’ve disappeared.

142 notes · View notes

preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Batfamily #fanfiction #crack #crack treated seriously #multimedia fic #humor #kidnapping attempts #revenge plots #Ra's tries to recruit tim #Spoilers it backfires #what is canon #precious posts #long post #chapter 1

79 notes · View notes

mintbaby1012 · 3 years

Text

Jeongin ♥ Who Do You Love

In which you go over to the boys dorm to hangout and Jeongin gets jealous

dom!Jeongin x fem!reader

WARNING: Suggestive/smut, Fluff, jealousy, very slight angst if u squint.

Word Count: 2998

——————————————————————————

My boyfriend Jeongin had brought me over to his dorm to hang out with him and the boys. Currently I was sitting on the couch playing on the switch with Changbin, Hyunjin, and Chan. Jeongin was next to me watching videos, honestly he looked kinda grumpy and I don't know why.

"Y/n, come help me cook!" Yelled Lee Know from the kitchen so I got up and ruffled Jeongin's hair causing him to look at me questioningly and I said, "Love you Jeongin!"

I gave him heart fingers before going to the kitchen after seeing him blush and look back at his phone saying nothing in response; honestly kinda disappointed he could've at least returned the heart finger but no. He's been a grump since Chan took me to his room to show me his new figure.

Once I got to the kitchen Lee Know gave me green onions to cut and a knife. "Hey Lee where is the chopping board?" I looked over to him and he was pointing at the cabinet next to me. I tried to grab it but it was pretty high up.

I started to lose my balance then I felt a body against mine holding me up and I got the board down without falling. I turned around and came face to face with Lee know and we just stared at each other for a moment before we heard the door open and Jeongin came in. Lee instantly moved away and went back to the the pot as my love came in, just looked at me weirdly and went to the fridge grabbing strawberry milk, then left.

"Hey Lee I'll be back I'ma go talk to Jeongin," I said and left the kitchen looking for Jeongin. He wasn't in the living room so I went to his room and found him on his bed. So, I layed down and hugged him while asking, "Why are you being such a grump today?" He looked at me and said, "I'm not I'm just tired and want to watch videos he said and smiled at me kissing my cheek. Which made me happy but honestly I can't tell if his smiles are real at this point anymore he always smiles now.

"Can I have some of your strawberry milk baby?" I asked and he handed it to me so I took a few sips it was soooooo good like fhdfd it's an orgasm in my mouth. I cuddled a little more with him before going back and helping Lee Know cook again.

After we finished cooking the members all helped setting the table. We all sat down and started eating and laughing talking about random things then Lee Know said, "Y/n, open up try this!" He fed me the beef before I could respond, and I looked over to Jeongin who immediately stopped laughing and started eating more.

Eventually it was 10 PM and Chris said I needed to go back to my house so my parents don't get mad and blame him. So me and Jeongin were on our way back to my house.

"Jeongin really tell me what's wrong I'm tired of you being a grump today!" I stated sternly and he stopped and looked at me. "You, You are what's wrong with me. Every single time I bring you over one of the members is with you not me, and Lee Know sometimes I want to punch him he's always flirting with you , I should be the one flirting with you not him....."

He started walking again leaving me behind while I processed what he just said. Eventually we reached my house and I invited him in because my parents would've gotten onto me if I didn't so we went up to my room to hang out for a bit more but he just got on his phone again. So what do I do, well I take his phone from him and toss it to my floor and exclaimed, "I'm not with them right now but look, look at what you're doing nothing you're not flirting your not even looking at me!"

Jeongin looked at me and said, "Well what do you want me to do i don't even know who you love anymore, so who do you love. Is it him or me because if you can't say I'm the one for sure then I'm walking out the door." Tears were puddling up in my eyes as I said, "You, I love you, I spent most of my high school life begging you to be with me and now you finally are and you have been with me for a year and your asking this. I'm shocked Jeongin."

He looked back at me dead in the eyes and said, "How do I know that, for all I know you could be doing things with them. They're older than you even though I'm older than you too, but they're all pretty experienced they can easily take control over you and your heart so I don't know if you love me anymore... I need proof."

So right after that I kissed him and it wasn't no normal kiss, I kissed him passionately trying to express all my feelings to him. At first jeongin was just wide eyes and shocked then he started moving with me our lips dancing together. I pulled away and asked, "Do you believe me now? Do you now believe that you are the one I love!"

He looked at me pushing back his hair and said, "I definitely believe you do now, sweetness."

I blushed and quietly said, "It's like you're trying to seduce me right now. Pushing you're hair and leaning your head back like that you evil human being."

He looked at me smirking and stated, "So what if I am, you are my babygirl not Chris' or Lee Know's. I'm allowed to seduce you."

I looked up at him confused on why he said that then my eyes widened as I exclaimed, "Did I say that out loud?!?!?!"

Jeongin kept smirking and said, "Yes, you did." Then kissed me again, picking me up and setting me on his lap.

We kept kissing for like 2 minutes till he bit my lip making me whimper and he took that chance to stick his tongue into my mouth sending an shock through my body.

Since when did he know to kiss like this, he's normally innocent only kissing me on the cheek or maybe on the lips but the lips is rare even in private, but right now, I'm not getting any vibes of innocence.

Slowly he worked his way to my jawline kissing it. Then to my neck kissing licking and leaving love bites making me moan quietly.

He got back to my lips and wrapped his arms around my back pulling me as close as he could to him. We kept kissing and my hands were running through his hair making a mess of it, as he layed back onto the bed so that I was on-top of him while he was laying down.

I loosened his grip on my back and worked my way to his earlobe, licking and biting it lightly causing him to whimper from this new feeling to him. I kept on kissing and biting him but now I was at his neck.

I then made my way to Jeongin's collar bone and looked up at him to see him in a dazed state looking at me with pure love. So in that moment I went right back to his collar bone kissing it and biting it, but it wasn't a normal bite I was biting and sucking on his skin to leave a mark; making him moan out, "Y-You're supposed to be innocent y/n, h-how do you know to do this... ngh"

I looked back at him and smirked, "I could say the same thing about you innie your older than me only by a few months."

He just smirked and slid his hand under my shirt exploring my skin. His free hand worked it's way to my ass squeezing it then spanked me as he said, "You've been a bad girl, letting the others fond all over you." He then spanked me again causing me to whimper, but then we both froze and I jumped up off him and he pulled on a hoodie and tried to straighten out his hair, I was at my TV acting like I was gonna grab the switch.

All of that work because we heard my mom coming up the stairs. She opened the door and I lifted the switch out of the holder and looked at her innocently as she said, "It's getting pretty late y/n either Jeongin needs to leave or call Christopher and he can stay in the guest room if he gets permission."

I nodded my head and Jeongin called Chris to ask then after he hung up he spoke to my mom, "He said since it's late he doesn't want me out alone so to stay here and he'll pick me up around 11 tomorrow morning if needed."

She nodded her head but before she left I pleaded, "Mama can Jeongin just stay in here we're mature, I mean we're literally adults in America and you were born and raised there Mama and all I want to do is cuddle with him."

She stood at my door for a few moments before sighing, "Fine but don't do anything that'll be regretted in the long run, understood." She said sternly and me and Jeongin both nodded our heads quickly in response and when she left I put the switch back and jumped back into the bed hugging Jeongin.

We layed there till I fell asleep. Around 2am I woke back up and Jeongin was gone, but I saw the light to the bathroom that was connected to my room was on so I got up and was about to knock on the door but stopped right when I was about to knock. He was moaning I could hear him moaning my name it was quiet but still audible enough for anyone in a five feet radius of the bathroom.

I just stood there wide eyes and blushing off in my own fantasy world not realizing the moaning stopped. Then the door opened and I was snapped out of my world; Jeongin and I stared at each other pretty much talking through our eyes and I turned around quickly and tried running to the bed to hide under covers in embarrassment but he grabbed my arm pulled me into his chest.

He leaned next to my ear and whispered, "Did you hear everything I was doing, sweetness?" I just nodded my head, and he pushed me onto the bed. Before I knew it he had my shirt off and I was exposed because I don't sleep with a bra. He was scanning my entire body, while removing his shirt and pants.

Is this really about to happen am I really gonna lose my virginity right now. As Jeongin's dick sprung free, lustful fear clouded my eyes. Jeongin looked at me softly and said, "Baby I can wait for your v card much much longer, I know you're afraid to lose that but I can't just use my own hands anymore." I looked him in the eyes relived and he pulled me up to stand then pushed me down so I was kneeling on the floor as he was sitting on the bed.

I looked up at him confused on what to do. This is the first time I have seen a dick in real life and it's my boyfriend's as well. He grabbed my hand and place it on his dick. Manually wrapping my hand around it and using it as a toy guiding it up and down his shaft, till I got used to it.

He was now propping himself up on the bed, head back, and moaning out my name and cuss words following it.

I was staring at him trying to figure out what got the best reaction out of him and my conclusion was when I glided my thumb across his tip then blew on it.

Suddenly an idea struck me and immediately I put it into action. My mouth lowered onto his cock wrapping around it and he gasped in surprise, instantly sitting up straight and grabbing a handful of my hair and pushing me down onto his dick all the way causing me to gag.

He started thrusting into my mouth moaning sinnful words of pleasure. Eventually I stopped gagging and lowered my self onto him even more deepthroating him everytime he thrusted into me. "F-fucking hell I'm gonna cum sweetness!" Jeongin moaned out while pulling my head back so that he doesn't cum into my mouth, but I had other plans.

I instantly lowered my mouth back down to his throbbing shaft as he came and I took it all into my mouth. I looked back up at him and he was wide eyed and breathing heavily letting out his last bit of moans looking down at me. I made sure he saw the movement of my throat as I swallowed his cum.

He looked even more shocked and pulled me back up and kissed me while saying, "I love you, I love you so fucking much. I just didn't want to cum in your mouth I didn't want to make your mouth completely dirty..."

I just looked at him and said, "It didn't make my mouth dirty but it did give my taste buds a new favorite snack hehet!"

"Huh, what about me does your oppa get to have a new favorite snack too?" Jeongin asked and I shook my head yes.

Soon enough I was laying on the bed my pussy exposed and his mouth eating me out. I was a moaning mess. Everytime he would flick his tongue against my clit my whole body would jolt in pleasure. Then I felt something enter my pussy and I moaned out his name making him smirk in pride.

He was fingering me and eating me out at the same time. I was a moaning mess and it felt like I was on could nine. My body felt like it was engulfed in honey, he was sending so much pleasure into me just with three fingers and his tongue.

My hands worked their way to his hair pushing his face into me more because I need and want to feel more, I moaned out, "Jeongin, more give me more pleasure I feel something wierd in my stomach and I want more of that feeling!"

He snickered and hummed in response sending a vibration to my clit causing me to practically scream. His actions intensified and my whole body started shaking till I felt a release.

All the pressure that built up in my body was gone and I saw white sparkles floating around. My entire body jolted and I moaned out very loudly Jeongin licked up all my fluids and came back up to me kissing my stomach leaving hickies here and there then kissed my lips as I said, "S-so that's what having an orgasm f-feels like?!" I was completely out of breath.

Realizing that strawberry milk was actually not like an orgasm in my mouth but it was close.

Jeongin looked at me shocked, "You've never had an orgasm before?!?!? Either way I'm glad I was the one to cause it uwo." I just giggled and he got up and cleaned the whole mess. After he was finished cleaning and reclothing the both of us he got back in bed bringing me into his embrace as we fell back asleep enjoying each others embrace.

The next morning I woke up to my mom tapping on my shoulder and whispering, "I'm going to work now, I made some breakfast it's on the table whenever he wakes up remember to brush teeth and hygiene you don't want to look like teenage bums who hate the world, I love you, have a good day!!!" I hummed in response and waved to her goodbye as she left and snuggled back into Jeongin's embrace and fell back asleep.

Thirty minutes later I woke back up to Jeongin trying to get up without waking me, "Good morning innie! Go take care of your hygiene my mom made us breakfast." I said making him jump because I scared him, he nodded his head and pecked me on the lips before leaving to get clean.

#jeongin #jeongin oneshot #i.n. stray kids #jeongin stray kids #smut #fluff #scenario #oneshot #suggestive #jeongin smut #i.n. smut

80 notes · View notes

prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

My Everything - Tom Riddle x Reader

pairing: tom riddle x reader

word count: 3,175

a/n: uhh this is my first one shot imagine thing so i hope it doesnt stink. I’ve already posted this on ao3 but i thought i might give tumblr a try. -kennedy

***

A cold winter’s day was nothing as the potions classroom steamed up in the heat. Stressed students in their last year of school fumbled with their cauldrons, scribbling notes onto their parchment, trying to remember everything they would need for their NEWTs coming up in June. Smokey fog misted the room, suffocating the students. If only someone could crack open a window - too bad they were in the dungeons.

On today’s agenda, Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It was only revision but since I had done so poorly on it last year, I was determined to get a higher score this year. Luckily, we could choose our potions partners in our seventh year, so I partnered up with my best friend, and exceedingly talented potions maker, Tom Riddle.

I’ve known Tom ever since year one. My nervous self lost on a train in a sea of strangers, unsure of where to go, unsure of where to step. Everyone seemed so intimidating and daunting; I struggled to even speak up and talk to anyone. Alone I sat, in an empty compartment, scanning my new textbooks so I wouldn’t seem so daft.

It was hard being muggleborn. I thought I would’ve been behind everyone academically, only just learning about the wizarding world last May when I turned eleven and got my Hogwarts letter. Of course, I was ecstatic - who wouldn’t be? The idea of magic had always fascinated me, growing up on fairytales and myths. But then, I traded in Snow White for Standard Book of Spells: Volume One.

Yet, as I saw the compartment door open and I locked eyes with a reserved, charming boy, I sat my book down and gave a small smile. He returned the smile with a wave, before turning his attention to the spell book in my lap, cocking an eyebrow up.

“Getting a head start?” The strange boy had asked. At that moment, I had to decide what to say. I could tell the truth and reveal that I was a nervous muggleborn who was afraid of knowing nothing in my classes, but I had already heard about the prejudice around muggleborns. Many people believed they were inferior to pureblood wizards and I wasn’t sure if this boy was one of those people. I was in no position to pass up a friendship. So I lied.

“I was just so happy to be going to Hogwarts that I just wanted to get right into the learning. I mean, I've been waiting to go for my entire life.” I stuttered out, praying that I had said the right thing. The strange boy’s face relaxed as he heard that and held his hand out in front of him, waiting for me to shake it. Hesitantly, I leaned over, taking his hand in mine. His fingers were cold and slender, curling around mine in a menacing manner. All my thoughts told me to get out of there, to run away before anything bad could happen, but I was so alone. I wanted a friend more than anything.

“My name is Tom Riddle.” His voice was smooth like melted silver, enchanting me. I could feel a pink tint rise on my cheeks, encapsulating my face in a blush. Looking down to avoid his piercing blue eyes, I smiled softly. I shook his hand as he wanted, pulling away. His hands were foreign and they felt strange wrapped around mine. Yet, so alluring.

“I’m [Y/N L/N].” I blurted, placing my hands in my lap nervously. Regret flushed into my veins as I watched his mind process what I had told him. Was my name too muggle-like? Had I given away my secret already? Yet, he smirked. A good sign, I had decided.

We talked casually for the rest of the train ride. Avoiding as many questions about my family as possible, I noticed Tom doing the exact same thing. So I never brought it up and he didn’t either. He seemed interesting though. Like his last name entailed, he was a riddle and I was curious to solve him. I was never going to get anywhere though with just small talk. I wanted to be closer to him.

At the sorting ceremony, I watched as he went up to the sorting hat. Immediately after the hat was placed upon his head, it exclaimed “Slytherin!” I had at least read up on the different houses at Hogwarts. I knew what Slytherins were about; their pureblood propaganda was almost impossible to avoid when reading Hogwarts: A History. As I saw the glint of passion in Tom’s eyes when he heard the house, I realised I had made the right choice to lie about my blood on the bus. He was ever so pleased to be a Slytherin.

When my name was called, I begged not to be in Slytherin. Tom would find out my secret if I was around him too much, so I asked the sorting hat not to place me in the house of serpents. The most I remember from that sorting ceremony was hearing “Ravenclaw” come out of the sorting hat’s mouth and fainting onto the cool ground.

Waking up in the hospital wing, my eyes fluttered open to see none other than Tom Riddle sitting in the chair next to me. He was looking out for me and at the moment, he became my best friend for the next seven years.

But now, we were seventeen years old, sleeves rolled up, sweat beading at our foreheads. I wiped it away panting heavily. I couldn’t mess up Amortentia for a second time; I would never hear the end of it from Tom. We were both top students in all our classes but in potions, he was definitely on top. As I shrugged my cardigan off, I heard him snigger under his breath, shaking his head while chuckling. I gave him dagger eyes before turning back to my potion. I knew he was mocking me for being stressed. Not everyone could be so calm while potion making.

“Do you need some help?” I heard Tom’s voice from behind me, as I flicked my head around, revealing his cocky grin, watching me from over my shoulder. My lips were pursed tight as I gave him a small smile, trying not to reveal that I was struggling. Yet, as I was about to add bat wings to the cauldron, Tom put his hands on mine, pulling it away from the bubbling mixture. “I think you do if you’re going to add uncut bat wings into the potion.”

Frantically, I looked over at my potions book, seeing that Tom was correct - they needed to be roughly chopped. Taking a deep breath, I listened to his laughs as I grabbed my knife out, chopping them up into big chunks before adding them into the deep, velvety mixture, and stirred it three times anti-clockwise. All I needed now was to wait for it to simmer, so I sat back in my chair, tying my hair up to get it off my face.

Joining me peacefully, Tom sat beside me, a smug look on his face. His potion was simmering now too. We were both very quick at making potions, even if his potions were of a better quality than mine. I closed my eyes, taking a whiff of the aromas in the room. Nothing distinct could be smelt by me, except for the boy sitting next to me. All I wished to do was fall asleep right now, but I knew that I couldn't do that, so I sat up to take the potion off the heat. It should be finished by now.

Tom followed me up and I looked into my cauldron, unsure if it was any good. Questionably, I turned my head over to Tom, hoping he could smell it and test if it was working right. Tom trusted me with the information that he was born out of a love potion and couldn’t love anyone, so if he couldn’t smell anything, it should be perfect. As I gestured to my finished potion, I offered him to smell it and he leaned in. When the fumes raised up to his nose, his eyes widened in shock, his pupils dilating.

“Well, I can smell something in there.” He laughed, but I just sighed, on the verge of tears. I really needed to make it correctly but I had messed up again. Tom noticed that I was about to break down and placed his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a small hug. His soft hands came to my cheeks, taking his thumb and rubbing my flushed cheekbone. “Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. Maybe we can restart it before Professor Slughorn comes to check on it?”

But, it was too late. Professor Slughorn had noticed the lack of us doing anything and had wandered over to us, excitedly. I tried to hide my scarlet cheeks from the old man, burying myself in Tom’s torso, yet Slughorn had arrived, eagerly wanting to smell my potion. Reluctantly, I took the lid off my cauldron and moved out of the way to let Professor Slughorn smell my Amortentia.

Surprisingly, Professor Slughorn smiled as he smelt my potion. Confused, I tried to study his face and find out what he was smiling about. My question was answered soon after. “It’s perfect, Miss [L/N], it’s absolutely perfect. I can smell my late wife perfectly. Outstanding work! A big improvement from last year, aye?”

I was so shocked by what Slughorn had just said that I just nodded and gulped, looking over to Tom next to me. He looked even more nervous than me, avoiding eye contact with me as Professor Slughorn walked off. “You said you could smell something,” I asked Tom, “so why did you lie?”

“I didn’t.” Tom said quietly, leaning over his own cauldron. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing nervously. I wasn’t paying much attention though, as I bent down over my own cauldron, taking in the aroma of the Amortentia. Old parchment, fire, and -

Tom caught my eye. His face looked pale, as if all the colour had been drained. Shyly, I looked away, turning my attention away from Tom and towards our teacher, folding my hands awkwardly in my lap.

“So, that’s the last lesson of the term. Over the holidays, I would like two rolls of parchment on the effects of Amortentia on a person. You may go now.” Slughorn said, before dismissing us. I grabbed my book bag before heading swiftly out of the potion classroom. As I left, I was met with a great gust of wind, sending shivers down my spine, cooling me down immediately, to a point where the sweat felt like icicles. Opening my bag, I searched for my cardigan, realising I had left it in the classroom.

Clumsily, I reentered the classroom, to see that the only one left in the room was Tom. He turned to me as I walked in, so I flashed him a calm smile. Strolling back to my seat, I took my cardigan in my hands, wrapping it around my cold body. Leaving the class, Tom followed after me, catching up to me and engaging me in conversation.

“So, everyone leaves tomorrow for the holidays.” Tom started, “What do you want to do first?” A dangerous smirk raised on his face, waiting for my answer. As a tradition, every year we stayed at school together, two of the only people who stayed, and caused mayhem to all the teachers and remaining students. It was the most exciting time of year. It always ended with us falling asleep on Christmas Eve in the Astronomy Tower, watching all the stars into the night. Unfortunately, this year was different.

“I have to go home this year.” Tom’s face fell as I said these words, his eyes filling with sadness. Before he could ask why, I answered his question. “I’m going to be eighteen soon and that means I’m going to get married. My parents want me to go home and meet my new fiancé that I’m going to have to marry. I’m sorry Tom.”

“Y-you’re getting married?” Tom stuttered, and he never stuttered. I looked away from him ashamed. He looked at me like I was some foreign person, someone who he didn’t know. I couldn’t even look at me.

“I’m sorry.” I spluttered out, as I turned the corner towards the Ravenclaw tower, leaving Tom down in the dungeons. I turned back towards him before quietly saying, “goodbye Tom.”

***

Morning broke and I woke up early to pack my suitcase up. Of course, I didn't want to go home. I didn’t want to be a victim to some muggle arranged marriage. In all honesty, my parents were ashamed of me being a witch. That’s why I never returned home each winter holiday, only going back to them in the summer holidays, when I needed to. Hoping that it would squash out the magic in my blood, my parents were forcing me to marry the blandest, most normal man they could find.

I decided to skip breakfast this morning, being unable to even look at Tom. Last night at dinner had been sufficiently awkward enough, even while ignoring him as much as possible. Yet, I could feel his eyes burning the back of my head the entire time. I couldn’t handle that again so I decided I could just get something to eat on the train.

It was currently nine o’clock in the morning. The train was scheduled to leave at ten so I had to hurry up, shoving as many as my muggle clothes in my bag as possible. If this day couldn’t get any worse, outside my window I could see the clouds closing in, small raindrops falling onto my window pane. Sighing, I pulled out an old sweater that I had given to Tom to borrow earlier this term. It still smelt like him - the smell was alluring.

The plan was to get out of the castle and onto the platform as soon as possible. I could talk to Tom one on one again once I had gotten back from my trip, but I was still terrified of what would happen. He was my best friend, surely he would understand?

Taking a carriage out of Hogwarts, I arrived in Hogsmeade, ready to take the train. With my suitcase in hand, I reached up to grab onto the train, yet I was pulled back onto the platform. 9:50am. The train would leave in ten minutes and I needed to get on. Also, it was raining harder now, and I wasn’t happy about getting soaked.

I knew it was Tom who pulled me away and I couldn’t disagree with his feelings. I had left him with nothing. I had ignored him for the past sixteen hours. I was being a bad friend, I know, but I couldn’t stand to see him sad and miserable. It hurt me. It hurt him. I hated seeing him hurt

9:52am. We had finally reached our destination. A small secluded area away from the platform. It may have been quiet but I was still being pummeled by the rain, shivering in my thin sweater. I looked up through my dew-covered eyelashes up to Tom, who stood much taller than me. His normally perfect curls were damp and limp, clinging tightly to his pale face. His eyes had a look of disappointment and confusion in them. His hands were resting on the sides of my arms, not letting me go. For a few moments, we just stood there, staring at each other, breathing heavily, until Tom finally spoke.

“Don’t go.” Tom finally said. 9:54am. I couldn’t find the words to say, the only thing coming out of my mouth was incomprehensible sounds.

“I have to go. My parents-”

“I don’t care about them. Stay here. With me.”

“What about my marri-?”

Tom looked away and I stopped talking. Out of instinct, I took my rain-sodden hand up to his cheek, turning him towards me. I leaned in closer to him, trying to get him to see where I was coming from. Yet, my heart fluttered at our closeness. He no longer felt cold, like when I first met him. His hands were warm. His eyes were kind. He was different.

“You will regret it if you go.” Tom muttered. “I know you will. I know you. And no man will ever know you like I do.”

9:56am. I really had to go, but I couldn’t leave Tom here. Slowly, I released him from my grasp and went back in, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him into a warm hug. His arms fell perfectly around my waist, pulling me in tighter. I never wanted to move, but I felt his hand leave my waist. My heart fell for a moment until he reattached his hand to my chin, tilting my head upwards. That’s when his lips connected with mine.

His lips were soft, something I didn’t expect. Truthfully, I didn’t expect a kiss at all. It was innocent as small as first, slowly releasing me, but it wasn’t enough. My heart wanted more, so I cupped his cheeks with my hands and pulled him in for another kiss, more passionate than the first. Our lips were synchronised perfectly, our touch igniting each other. It was as if I had never been happy before and Tom filled me with all the joy I needed. Then, he pulled away, placing a piece of my wet hair behind my ear. “Don’t go.”

9:58am. “I have to go. I can’t stay here. I’m not enough.” I looked down but Tom’s hand pulled me upwards again so I could feel his breath on my ear.

“I love-”

I pulled away before he could finish. He was making a mistake. He had no idea who I really was and it seemed like time to finally tell him.

“Tom, I am not who you think I am.” I started, feeling Tom’s eyes watching me intently. “I’m nothing more than a muggle born witch. I’m a mudblood. I’m nothing compared to you.”

9:59am. He didn't hesitate. He didn’t say anything. I was waiting for him to say something, to end this awkward silence, but instead, he just pulled me into another kiss.

“[Y/N] [L/N], I do not care that you are muggle born. You aren’t nothing. You are my everything and I love you. I love you so much.”

For one last time, he pulled me into a tight kiss and none of us let go. The rain poured down, keeping us in a tight bubble of our own heat. I could never let go.

10:00am.

I heard the train’s horn go but I didn’t care.

I pulled away, much to Tom’s despair, but whispered something, almost inaudibly.

“I love you too.”

#harry potter #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle angst #tom riddle fluff

276 notes · View notes