#There's The One Time I tried to Tell Her I was NB and She Scoffed at Me
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It's my mother's birthday and all I can think of is all the ways she traumatized me growing up.
#There Was the Year She said I ruined her BDay Because I Came out as Bi#There's The One Time I tried to Tell Her I was NB and She Scoffed at Me#There's the Time She Threatened to Report me to the Police and Make Sure I Could Never Have Animals Again#Because Our Ferret's Water Bottle was Broken and I Didnt Know Until She Screamed at Me#When I was 12 She Said I Ruined Her Life by Being Born#When I Cut Myself and She Found Out She Made me Sit with Her and Plan What to do WHEN not IF she Found My Body#When I Tried to Kill Myself She Made it All About Her#I Did Choir for One Year and Stopped Because She Never Came to Concerts and Acted Like it was the Biggest Chore to Even Come Get Me#The Time She Accused me of Lying to my Fiance About Being Abused Because He Told Her I Have Panic Attacks When She Yells#All the Times I had to Be her Personal Therapist For Her Love Life#She Likes to Make Me Do Karaoke to Show Me Off#She Refused to Help Me Get a License#When I Told Her I Wanted to Live with Dad She Said My Bros Would Come With and theyd Never See Her Again#She Constantly Badmouthed Him Wherever She Could#Made Me Mad At Him Because He Wouldnt Be at My Birthday Parties (because Military) and Try to Make it Seem#Like He Wasnt There on Purpose#Would Refuse to Help Me with School and then Berated me for Failing#When I DID Ask for Help She Would Do it All then Yell at Me for Making Her Do it#Constantly Compared me to My Older Siblings Who I Didnt Even Know Yet and Made me Resent Them#I Took Care of My Brothers Growing Up. Not Her. But she Acts Like that Never Happened#A Bunch of Other Shit I Cant Even List#I Was Her Doll. Her Mini-Her. And Because of That my Bros Got it a Lot Worse#Anyway I have to See Her Today and I want to KMS#alex has the floor#tw: suicide#tw: abuse
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chaos inferno — ember ii
himiko meets two eternals, who promptly recruit her to stop the emergence.
✶༄ platonic!eternals x nb!original character
✶༄ no warnings available for this ember
✶༄ paragraph format — 0.9K words
masterlist | chaos inferno masterlist
[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]
Thinking back on what exactly ADONIS told her, Miko certainly was to blame for making assumptions about the visitors in the lobby. The AI never told faer they were for her, so fae shouldn’t’ve assumed the visitors were her friends — especially if fae wasn’t expecting any visits from them in the first place.
Since fae was already there, the receptionist just advised her to take off faers face mask — if she wanted to appear more presentable than fae currently was — before heading over. Miko thought she had made them wait long enough, so faers royal blue bathrobe, black cat ears hairband, and black slippers (minus the white face mask) would have to do.
Miko would just have to hope they don’t spread her lack of professionalism on faers day off.
"Thank you for waiting," fae opted to announce her presence in an appreciative manner, especially since the rest of faers introduction would be in an apologetic tone. "I apologize for my outfit, I wasn’t really expecting to go down the lobby today."
"It’s alright," the man accepted her apology immediately. "Thank you for meeting us on your day off. We really appreciate it."
She mentally took note of his accent before replying, "Of course." Fae shifted faers eyes to the woman next to him, racking her brain for any instance that fae had already met or seen them before. "Do you mind telling me your names?" Truthfully, they didn’t radiate anything that she could consider alarming, but she knew it was the best to be on guard either way.
"Not at all," it was the woman who spoke up — also with a similar accent as her companion. "I’m Sersi and this is Ikaris."
Fae confirmed then that she had never met nor heard about them before — at least not by face nor name. She nodded in acknowledgment, "My name’s Miko, but I know you already know that," then dismissively waved faers hand to signal that fae was about to change the subject. "What can I do for you, Sersi and Ikaris?"
Miko gestured for the two to sit back down, as she situated herself on the adjacent sofa. "We need your help," Ikaris started. "The world is ending and we need your help."
"I—" Miko stared, a little unsure on how to react properly. "I don’t doubt that since the world seems to do that often, but," she stopped short, thinking of the best way to express faers next thoughts, "how did you know? S.H.I.E.L.D. nor the Avengers—"
"I’m afraid the Emergence is not within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s nor the Avengers’ expertise."
"Then whose?" Fae questioned, "Yours?"
"Yes, ours." Miko didn’t like the feeling she got with Ikaris’ emphasis, but fae couldn’t pinpoint why. "The Eternals."
A part of her wanted to ask who came up with the name and the reason behind it, but fae ultimately decided against it. If the world was approaching an end as they say, then they certainly have better things to do. "Pardon me, but if it’s your — the Eternals’ — responsibility this time, then why contact me?"
Sersi and Ikaris looked at one another before the former responded, "You’re one of us, Miko."
Miko remembered the time when gods and aliens were just characters from fictional works.
Fae doesn’t remember much about faers younger days, but fae is fairly certain her teenager (pre-S.H.I.E.L.D.) self would’ve scoffed at present-Miko for believing that they actually exist. Even more so if she tried to convince faers younger self that she is an immortal faerself.
"Hold on," Miko shifted faers sitting position, "I get that Eternals are immortal superheroes with a mission to protect Earth from Deviants, A-K-A alien monsters. My life has been weird enough that I can’t even doubt that part. Also the part about you being Eternals . . . I believe that, too, since I can’t really dispute the whole levitation and transfiguration thing. However, the part about me being an Eternal . . . How do you expect me to believe that?"
No one can really blame Miko for being highly skeptical. After all, everything Sersi and Ikaris claimed seemed conveniently tied to the fact that she couldn’t remember anything from faers childhood through her early high school days. (Her lack of memory was not something the media knew, though, so fae wondered how they knew that.) According to them, her earliest memories were centuries far from being faers first ones. According to them, faers actual earliest memories should be older than Ferdinand Magellan’s circumnavigation of the world; around the time farming was still relatively new to humans. According to them, the reason why fae can’t remember anything that hints at her immortality is because she contracted a disease — Mahd Wy’ry, they called it — that essentially forced faer to give up all her memories in exchange for living a ‘normal’ life. However, before her memories were erased, fae apparently made a request to their leader — Ajax, the leader of Eternals at the time — if her immortality could be stripped away as well, so Miko could finally be a human as fae always wanted and grow up.
"We didn’t," Ikaris answered truthfully, his eyes immediately reverting back to their neutral state after displaying a hint of adoration as they look at faer rambling. "We knew it would be difficult to convince you, given that you have all your memories as an Eternal wiped."
"Does that mean you have prepared other methods to convince me?"
"Not necessarily," it was Sersi’s turn to reply. "We did hope you would help us still, for the sake of humanity."
"That’s not enough," Miko informed them. "I don’t work with people I don’t trust."
"Then let us show you we can be trusted."
next ember >
#eternals imagines#avengers imagines#eternals scenarios#avengers scenarios#eternals oneshots#avengers oneshots#eternals fanfics#avengers fanfics#eternals fics#avengers fics#eternals#avengers#marvel#mcu#marvel imagines#mcu imagines#platonic!eternals x reader#platonic!avengers x reader#marvel x reader#mcu x reader
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Vault Night
Summary: “Despite the Doctor’s lecture on not having casual drinks with mass murderers, nights in the vault swiftly became routine.” Or, the one where drunken game nights in Missy’s vault take a turn for the gay. [Request] [One Shot] [SFW]
Warnings: Alcohol, tiny bit of moderate strong language, allusions to Missy’s violent past but nothing too upsetting.
Word Count: 2897
NB: Hope this is okay for you, anon!
When you turned up at Missy’s vault, quivering with rage ���and clutching a bottle of cheap gin like a lifeline, you half expected her to turn you away. Your hair was a mess, eyes red with angry tears, clothes scuffed and torn from the latest disaster the Doctor had engineered with his infuriating obstinance. You couldn’t bear the sight of him right now. You just needed a drink.
Telling your human friends - the ones that you’d managed to keep while being unreachable for days at a stretch in the Time Vortex, disappearing at a moment’s notice any time he popped his head around the door and proclaimed enigmatically to “need you, for a thing” - that you were upset because your unspeakably ancient alien friend had almost gotten you eaten by space lizards and then refused to apologise for it wasn’t exactly an option. There was only one person in the universe you knew you could complain about him to, and she happened to be downstairs and guaranteed not to be busy. Besides which, you were certain it would piss him off if you went to see her.
They were definitely the only reasons.
Your presence in the vault had nothing to do with the way her tousled hair caught the light of the sunset filtering through the window, igniting in orange and purple like a bonfire. That was entirely circumstantial. If your fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle when she raised an expectant eyebrow, it was only because you were still so furious, and possibly a little bit frightened at locking yourself in a room with a murderer. Only natural.
“Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.” She gestured towards the tufted chairs by the window. “Here to complain about the eyebrows? He was rude.”
“You saw?” Your jaw tightened at the thought that she’d witnessed your humiliation. “You saw what he did?”
“He lets me watch, thinks it’s educational television.” She stood up from the piano bench and strolled to the edge of the platform, leaning against a pillar. “I’m more into the sex and violence of it. Precious little of the former today, but I still enjoyed the show.”
“I almost died.”
“Yes, well, that happens.” She flounced down the steps, twirling as she went, and settled in a chair. “Come on, then. Gin and girl talk, is it, dearest? Tell me how the nasty Doctor hurt your feelings.”
This was a terrible idea. “Forget it.” You tried to sound sharp but humiliating tears of frustration were welling in your eyes, weakening your voice. “If you’re just going to take the piss I’ll go home.” You turned on your heels, rubbing at your eyes in a futile attempt to keep from crying.
She sighed heavily. “Don’t be so boring. Here I am, all banged up with nothing to do, and the only thing you want to talk about is how a stupid old man upset you? He does that. It’s his thing. He’ll start to feel guilty and he’ll come and find you and say something to make you feel better. You know that. Let’s do something fun.” You scoffed. “Or you could go and have a little cry and drink alone in your bedroom, that definitely sounds better.”
Okay, ouch.
Scowling, you looked back at her. She was draped across the chair, dark skirt gathered around her knees, giving you a glimpse of bare legs and sleek black boots. You swallowed hard. “What did you have in mind?”
+++++
“That is not very accurate.”
You snorted, glancing away from the screen to find Missy looking bored. She was hanging off the chair, clutching her half-empty glass in an elegantly manicured hand. “What, have you cut a lot of people in half like that?”
“Only six or seven.” She sounded far too casual. At any other time it might have worried you, but now, four gins deep and mocking your way through an absurdly gory slasher film with her, it just made you laugh. “The screams are much wetter, for one thing. Like a gurgling drain saw a ghost.”
“You’re lying.” It was a bold assertion, but somehow you just couldn’t picture it. It seemed a bit too… messy for her. From what you understood she was more into vaporising people and pushing them off of elevated structures.
“Oh, always, poppet,” she agreed, setting the glass down and swinging her legs over until she was sitting up, looking at you properly. “I have, though. A while ago. Different face.” She punctuated the words with a delicate wave of her hand, following the contours of her features. “Not as nice as this one.”
“That one’s quite nice,” you admitted, taking another swig. There was an unexpected beat of silence and you blushed.
Luckily it was broken when another buxom blonde on screen started begging for her life. You jumped slightly and looked back in time to watch the mutilation beginning. “I mean, there’s no way that that really happens, is there?”
“What?” Missy wasn’t looking; her gaze was still fixed on your face. She turned to the screen and scoffed. Her accent was getting more pronounced with every glass she poured herself. “No, that is not what happens when you gouge an eye out.”
+++++
The Doctor found you a few hours later, perched next to Missy on the piano bench and belting out a truly horrifying rendition of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da while she played. Her voice was raised in song with you, and you got the sense that she was deliberately keeping out of tune with the music, matching your pitch instead. Your jaw ached from laughing and your head was swimming, the other side of tipsy by now.
You didn’t hear the door open, almost jumping out of your skin when he called gruffly, “what the hell is going on here?”
“Oh, you’re just in time for the chorus, Doctor,” Missy teased, still playing. “Feel free to join in! The human can hit the high notes but we could do with some backing.”
“Are you drunk?” His voice was humourless. You shrank back from the sharpness there, and Missy dropped her fingers from the keys, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. The gentle pressure made your breath hitch.
“Don’t be cross with her,” she said firmly. “You were awfully mean today.”
“Oh, I’m not cross with her,” he reassured, crossing the room and holding his hand out to help you down from the platform. His voice softened. “Come on. It’s almost midnight, let me get you home.”
“But-” you looked back at Missy, pulse quickening at the closeness of her. She gave you a tender smile and let go of you, nodding towards the Doctor.
“Taxi’s here, dearest,” she said with a wink. “Might even have an apology for you. Time to go.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, surprised by how much the thought disappointed you. “I’ll, um- I’ll see you soon?”
“You know where I’ll be.” As you went to stand, she grabbed your hand and squeezed gently. You turned to her, puzzled. “Thank you for a lovely evening.” There was an odd look in her eye, one you couldn’t place.
“Thanks for having me.” So quickly you might have imagined it, she leaned forwards and pressed a single kiss to your cheek.
You stood unsteadily, still wide-eyed, and the Doctor took your hand in his and helped you stumble down the stairs. “You need something to eat,” he fussed, taking so much of your weight on his shoulder that you were essentially being carried from the vault. “And then, I think we need to have a talk.”
You nodded, not really listening. Usually you would have been ready to fight with him at a moment’s notice, but as your hand drifted up to the lipstick mark on your cheek, you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to care.
+++++
Despite the Doctor’s lecture on not having casual drinks with mass murderers - which was almost as effective a deterrent as the blinding hangover you were nursing as you listened to it - nights in the vault swiftly became routine. You’d show up after a particularly discomforting near miss, or an especially trying argument, bottle in hand and face like thunder, and leave with your throat sore from laughing when he came to drag you out in the small hours of the morning. Somewhere around the fourth time you decided to make it official.
“Vault night?” Missy gave you a withering look over her glass. You’d stormed off after an argument with the Doctor on Gemini 7, stopping by an alien corner shop to pick up something for the doozy of a night in that you were already planning. It was some kind of fruity rum-like spirit that burned your eyes when you smelled it, but paired surprisingly well with cheap Earth lemonade. “Every night is vault night. I’m always in the vault, that’s… rather the point, dear.”
“Well, yeah,” you agreed, heedless of her sarcastic tone. “But I’m not. If we make it a weekly thing then I can plan for it, get some new board games,” sorely needed after the disastrous night you tried to play Jenga with her and almost died (who knew the Gallifreyan rules were so different?). “I can bring food, and most importantly, I can tell the Doctor that I’m out of service on Sundays until further notice so that I can be hungover in peace instead of getting dragged around Martian car boot sales.”
She snorted. “I liked the snow globe.”
You grinned and glanced over at the trinket you’d brought back for her, a figurine of an Ice Warrior decapitating a human, trapped in a sparkling glass orb full of fake snow. The Doctor had wrinkled his nose but agreed to give you the cash for it. A belated vault-warming present, you’d called it.
“Fine,” she agreed, with theatrical reluctance. “Saturday night is Vault Night.”
“I’ll bring pizza and Uno.” You stood, wobbling a little bit, and she chuckled and steadied you with a hand on your side. Even as you were getting used to her morbid sense of humour, her love of all things gruesome, the casual touches only seemed to be getting more confusing. She would lean over you to pour more drinks, close enough that you could smell the perfume on her neck; she would grasp your hand and tug you towards the piano for a song. Once, while music played over unseen speakers, she’d proclaimed, “oh, this one is yummy,” and wrapped an arm around your waist to dance, twirling you around the vault until you were both too dizzy to carry on and collapsed on the chaise, hysterical.
Totally normal. Don’t need to think about that too hard.
When the door opened she snatched her hand away as if she’d been caught touching something that wasn’t hers. “Home time already?” She pouted in a way that you thought was only half joking.
“Apparently so.” The Doctor grimaced at you from the doorway, holding out his hand. You ignored him and turned back to her. “I’ll be back on Saturday, yeah? Five days.”
“Five days,” she agreed. Slowly she reached for your hand, bringing it to her lips and brushing a lingering kiss against your knuckles. Your pulse skipped. “Be safe, poppet.”
“I- um,” you swallowed nervously. “I’ll try.”
+++++
“I’m very glad, you know. Honestly.” You glanced away from the Uno cards that were growing increasingly hard to focus on and down to Missy’s sprawled figure on the parquet floor. Takeaway pizza and astonishingly strong Plutonian brandy had made for an enjoyable first Vault Night so far, though she’d beaten you several times already at every game you brought with you. The glee on her face each time she won had led you to believe that she wouldn’t get bored of it, but her cards were face down on the floor and she was looking intently at the wood grain, tracing it with her fingertip.
“About what?” You stretched out and gave her a gentle nudge with your foot. “Come on, play the game.”
“I’m very glad that you didn’t get eaten by a giant lizard.”
You laughed. “I mean, same, to be fair.”
“No,” she drawled, thickly accented, and rose up on her palms to look you in the eye. “I’m telling you that I, Missy, the Mistress, last of the- penultimate of the-,” you couldn’t help grinning at the way she slurred and stumbled, belying the imperious tone in her voice. She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face, trying again. “One of the last of the Time Lords of Gallifrey. I am very glad that you didn’t get eaten by a giant lizard that day.”
“Okay?” You frowned slightly when she looked up at you, eyes dark, face serious. “Missy, I don’t- I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” she admitted, hand fluttering in front of her eyes. “In my head, that was it.”
“That was what?” You offered her your hand but she waved it away, climbing to her knees on the floor in front of you. “That was it, to… to be good, you mean?”
“No, I don’t mean,” she spat, voice so venomous that you flinched. “Good, good, good, that’s all you two ever think about. Well what’s good?” She gestured wildly to the door. “He left you alone to die and you almost did, was that good? You came to me,” she pointed at her chest, which was heaving with the force of her outburst. “You came to me crying and feeling like nothing.”
“Missy,” your throat was starting to ache with tears, and you swallowed them back. Stupid space brandy. “He just- he made a mistake and he made it up to me, we got over it.”
“Yes, of course,” she nodded, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand. “Yes, you made up, didn’t you? You forgave him, just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis. “Well I didn’t. I don’t, do you understand? I don’t forgive him for it.”
“For what? For leaving me?” She was closer now, her hands coming to rest on your knees as she leaned up towards you. There were only inches between you. “It’s alright. I’m alright.”
“It’s not alright,” she said pleadingly. “It’s not. You would never have come here. You and I, we would never- ugh,” she raked a hand through her hair. “Why is this so hard?”
“Just tell me what’s wrong,” you implored, reaching out to cup her cheek before you could stop yourself. “Please, Missy.” You expected her to flinch, but she leaned into your hand like she hadn’t been touched in years.
Near enough, probably.
“If you travelled with me I’d never leave you,” she breathed, eyelids fluttering closed as she placed her hand over yours. “I’d never let you be so hurt, so scared. He doesn’t deserve you.”
You smiled tearfully. “He’s my friend. He has his moments but- he’s my friend, and so are you.”
“I don’t want to be your friend.” Missy opened her eyes, ice-pale and gleaming in the smudged black makeup she wore. Your heart wrenched when you felt the first warm drops of saltwater streaking down her cheek. Her hand tightened on your thigh, clutching it like a drowning man thrown a rope. “I want to be yours.”
Stunned to silence, you took her face in both hands and leaned closer. She kept her eyes fixed on yours, breathing harsh and open-mouthed. When you were able to speak, your bottom lip trembled.
“You stupid, ridiculous Time Lady,” you managed, caught between laughing and weeping. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Missy made a soft, broken noise and inclined her head, bringing her lips to yours. She tasted bitter from the tears and the alcohol, and your head spun at the thought that this was her, Missy, traveller in space and time, ancient as the moon and somehow, by some mad virtue of the universe, on her knees begging you to want her. The bizarre, the surreal had become old hat since you met the Time Lords, but this was something different. This was a dream come true.
You broke away, gasping for breath, and leaned your forehead against hers. “I love you, Missy,” you said simply, but the words sounded so small after hers. “I want to be yours, too.”
“You are,” she promised, guiding your hand down to press against her chest. You could feel the twin heartbeats there, beating out a hypnotising rhythm into your palm. “You are. Always.”
+++++
The Doctor found you asleep on the sofa, tucked close into Missy’s chest; her hair was splayed across the cushion beneath her, your cheek pressed close to her hearts. One hand cradled your head and the other rested protectively in the small of your back.
He frowned down at the image of contentment and she opened her eyes, holding you tighter when she saw the look on his face. He raised his hands in surrender, a silent promise not to take you from her.
“We’ll talk about this,” he said quietly. “You know that.”
“Of course,” she agreed, kissing the top of your head. “In the morning?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips, throwing a blanket he’d brought with him over the two of you. “In the morning.”
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into the night | ii | demon!sos
pairing: demon!ashton x nb!angel!oc (with a side of demon!michael x black fae!oc)
notes: so this isn’t as long as part one was (oops) however, i lowkey loved writing this and creating this world. this part focuses on ashton, however we get a glimpse of michael (who will be the next part and final part i hope) also thank u to my twin for checking over this and catching my errors!! lovee u @sexgodashton
word count: 5.7k
part one
donate to my ko-fi?
-
Time was much kinder to Roe and Marcella than their coven.
The first decade, the coven had their own struggles. There’d been enough times when hunters had nearly decimated them all because there was word about two demons in the midst of witches.
It was the first time Roe had ever invoked sacrificial protection for the betterment of her coven, and the guilt had weighed heavy on her for years afterwards.
True to her father's word, Calum and Luke had remained with the coven, an added layer of protection as they continued with their lives. They acted as liaison, to reap the souls that were not willing to pay their debts, the ones that Michael and Ashton had no time to seek and collect.
Ashton and Michael traversed through often enough, finally becoming comfortable enough with Marcella and Roe to let their guards down with them.
Gem had wormed her way into their hearts too, the elder witch having accepted them with ease. More often than not, there would be a point in the week where any of the four demons would sit talking with her, asking about her knowledge, her life.
A witch's knowledge was sacred, it taught the new generations of the Old Magicks, curses and spells. It taught them how to defend, to care for. But these stories Gem told the four demons, taught them how to open a side of them that they’d believed they’d lost the day they’d sold themselves to the King.
Ashton sat with Gem on such an occasion, his eyes studying the way her fingers tapped the porcelain cup.
“Your time is coming, you realise?” Her voice was quiet, Ashton could only nod. “She’ll fight it. She’s a stubborn witch.”
“It’s her right to rule. I know his predecessor was murdered, but he knows that he wants his kingdom in good hands. If it wasn’t for the fact that Calum finalised the bond with her, he’d have snatched Roe years ago.” Gem sighed as she finished her tea, her eyes searching the tea leaves.
“They just read change every damn time.”
Ashton looked up from his own cup, staring at Gem in shock at the frustrated tone that had left her lips.
Over the last decade, he’d only heard her raise her voice a handful of times. Each one was warranted, but he still knew that the normally calm witch only showed the frustrations when things were going south.
“Gem?” Old eyes met his and he could see the years of experience and the years of loss as a lone tear escaped.
“I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going to happen, Ashton. Too much needs to be decided and she will fight it, every step of the way.”
He sighed as he set his cup down, nodding his head before letting his fingers push through his black curls. That change had come a few years previous when Roe had made a passing comment to the demon when he’d shown up with a mild disguise on. She’d told him that black hair certainly looked better on him and so he’d decided that he needed a change and the black hair became permanent.
“He’s expecting her to rebel. He doesn’t want to put too much pressure on Calum, knowing she’ll readily destroy herself to protect him from the Kings plans.”
“So he’s putting the pressure on you?”
“Yes and no. My jobs are no different, but I’m feeling the pressure of doing what needs to be done. He doesn’t accept failure.” Carefully, his fingers peeled up his shirt sleeve and Gem gasped in shock at the darkened welts on his skin.
“He didn’t.” The older witch breathed, her eye unable to tear them from him.
“You can not heal them, Gem.” He warned as her fingers reached out, touching the delicate skin.
“Watch me.” She snapped back in return, eyes refocusing before the spell left her lips.
He watched in amazement as the skin on his arm knitted itself back together, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.
“He dares go for you again, tell him to start a fight with me.” The older witch snapped. And Ashton couldn’t help but smile as his fingers reached out, squeezing her arm gently.
“I’d look forward to the day where I see a demon, and the king of hell no less, get forced to submit to a witch.” Ashton murmured, earning a smirk from Gem.
“Where do you think our Roe learned it from?” Her words made him chuckle as a knock on the door interrupted them. Michael’s head stuck around the corner and Ashton tensed.
“We need to go. There’s unrest. An Angel appeared.” Ashton was on his feet swiftly, but bowed shortly to Gem before following Michael out. Gem chuckled.
For all his posturing, his upbringing was one he never seemed to let go of once he realised that he had a safety net in the house.
Following Michael outside, they made the journey through the shadows, landing not far from the ostentatious palace where the King held court. His actual home was elsewhere, along with the offices that he used to keep things in check, but the palace was one to be used as a decoy. Ashton was certain that only six others, including himself, knew where the King lived and four of them lived above in the human realm.
“What’s going on?” His voice carried as he stepped through. Demons fell silent, their resentful eyes staring at the two as they strode through.
That had been another downside to stepping up. Demons who were ambitious often killed their competitors. However, the King had made himself clear over the last decade. Anyone who touched Ashton or Michael, paid the price.
“The Angel bitch appeared out of nowhere, sir.” One of the younger demons commented, the sneer firm on his lips. Ashton held back his sigh of annoyance.
“Someone with a fucking brain cell, tell me what happened?” He snapped out and murmurs slipped through the gathered crowd before they parted. Ashton felt his heart tremble as the beaten and bloody body of the angel lay crumpled in a heap, the wings out and almost shredded with claws.
Michael scoffed as he made his way over.
“Who dragged the angel down here?” Ashton’s mind was frozen as Michael tilted the angel onto their back and memories from his human life hit him hard as the face fitted itself into his memories.
“She just appeared on the floor. No one dragged the bitch.” The first demon spoke and Ashton’s hand snapped out, his fingers closing slowly into a fist until he heard the demon gasp and struggle for air.
“You might think that they are our mortal enemies thanks to Belize, but trust me when I say working relationships exist between Heaven and Hell. Continue to call them a bitch and watch what happens. And for your troubles, they are a they, not a she.” He snapped, his fingers releasing and the demon struggled for air, his heaving breaths giving Ashton a vindictive satisfaction.
Their body was limp, but Ashton could hear the shallow, rattling breaths escape their lips, and he knew he needed to act to save their life.
With a jolt, he realised things were different compared to the last time that he saw them. And he felt like he was in some sort of cliche moment as he carefully picked up the angel, ignoring how the jolt slid down his arms when his fingers brushed their skin.
“Michael, inform his highness what has happened and clean up.” Ashton instructed and Michael nodded, turning around to kick the other demons from the palace. Ashton waited for a moment before he disappeared and he knew that he needed somewhere safe for the angel.
The sun hit his skin as he arrived, glancing up to the house before whistling loudly.
Calum came barrelling out first, followed by Marcella and then Gem.
“Ashton?” Calum’s eyes questioned the being in his arms, but he shook his head.
“They’re an angel, I can’t give them treatment below, it’ll kill them. I wouldn’t normally ask, but they-”
“They’re important to you.” Gem murmured as Marcella murmured a few spells and her face dropped.
“Get inside, use the room that you left Luke and I in.” She instructed and Ashton followed behind Gem who guided the two of them whilst Marcella yelled for other witches.
They came down at their calls, a couple scowling as they spotted Ashton, but he paid them no mind as he settled the angel on the bed, his fingers brushing the shoddily cropped hair with a sigh.
“What did they do to you?” He whispered before stepping back when Marcella returned with Roe in tow.
“Ashton?” Her tone was gentle as she held her hand out to him and he turned away from the angel, ignoring the stretched out hand before leaving the house, his own magic itching as he settled outside. He knew things were going to change and he knew he couldn’t leave.
“Fuck.” He lay out on the grass, arm over his eyes as he tried to keep his frustration from exploding outwards.
It was silent apart from the mutterings coming from within the house. Then a door closed and he growled in a warning.
“Pack it in.” Gem snapped as she sat herself next to him, his arm moving to see the older witch sat with an air of regality on the grass. He immediately felt bad, knowing the older witch sometimes struggled to move with ease.
“Had I known I would’ve been followed, I’d have stood.” He muttered and Gem snorted.
“Or you would’ve just disappeared.” She countered and he grimaced as his arm dropped from his face, sitting up to face Gem.
“I can’t.” He whispered and she stared at him hard. It felt like she was examining his soul, or what was left of it. And he looked away.
“There’s a bond, isn’t there?” Ashton knew that she knew the answer, but was still demanding him to vocalise it. And had it been anyone else, he’d have told them to fuck off.
But it was Gem. The witch who healed him despite the Kings deliberate mutilation to remind him of his place. The witch who reminded him of his humanity, who helped him find those memories from so long ago.
“Yes.” He finally whispered.
They sat there in silence before a blast of magic washed over the two of them and Ashton scrambled to his feet before helping Gem up. She smiled gently at him, patting his hand before following him through.
“Fucking angels.” Sapphire muttered as she left the room, rubbing a spot on her arm. Ashton snarled at her which made her pale before glancing to Gem and hurrying away.
“Peace, Ashton. It’s because the angel's version of magic is so very different.” Gem soothed the agitated demon. But it didn’t settle him until he entered the room and saw them laying more settled in the bed, their face free from the marks that had stunned him the first time around.
“Fucking angelic magic thinking it’s better than ours.” Roe muttered as she helped up Marcella who sighed.
“Don’t forget, our magic is tainted by our mates. Is it any wonder their magic reacted so violently?” Marcella chided and Roe stuck her tongue out before she spotted Ashton.
“You couldn’t have bonded to a human or a faerie, or even a bloody werewolf! You had to go and bond to a fucking angel.” He knew she was teasing, but his body tensed. Sensing the change in his mood, Roe held her hands up in a surrender position.
“How are they?”
“You need to find out what happened to them for me to fully heal them. We’ve got the superficial damage fixed, but there are curses locked in that I can’t touch until I know the origin. Ashton, how did you come by this angel?” Marcella’s tone was curious and he sighed as he took a seat next to the bed, feeling his chest ease now he was in proximity to them.
“They had been dumped on the floor of the palace. Which reminds me, Roe, you’ll have to start the transition soon before the younger demons start to revolt. The elders refuse to teach the little bastards.” Roe sighed.
“I just need to figure shit out first, but it’ll happen. Calum managed to finally convince me.” She muttered and he smiled gratefully at her.
“Go and rest, I’ll watch over them for now.” Roe left but Marcella hesitated.
“I’ll be fine.” He murmured and she shook her head.
“They weren’t in the best condition and we don’t know if our magic has aggravated it. The best thing you can do is make sure they’re comfortable so their own magic can help their body.” she instructed calmly before passing him a cloth. “If you notice a fever, use this to cool them down, it’s imbued with cooling charms to help so you don’t have to leave their side. Call for me when they wake up and I can get a better diagnosis.” Without another word, Marcella left, the door closing behind her.
He knew that both of them would’ve returned to their mates. The magic was enough that they would be tired.
The door opened once more and Gem stepped in, two cups of tea floating beside her as she sat on the chair which resided on the other side of the bed.
Ashton didn’t question her as the second cup of tea floated to his side.
“We might as well continue our little chat, especially since our Roe has seemingly made a decision.” Gem commented quietly and Ashton smiled at the older witch, his hands clasping the cup.
“I guess we should. Do you think that Roe is truly ready to work the compromise so that she can run the coven whilst keeping an eye on Hell?” Ashton’s words were curious and Gem smiled.
“She’s ruled long enough with an iron fist with this coven. They won’t know what to expect with her, one because she’s female but two because she has witches blood and she’s not afraid to exploit that for her own personal gains. I think she’ll make a fantastic Queen, and with Calum ruling by her side, the younger demons will quickly realise that the hierarchy exists for a reason.”
—
When they woke up with a gasp, Ashton was there, his eyes haunted yet considerate.
“You’re safe.” He murmured and their eyes were confused, the tiredness evident as he studied them.
“Ashton? But, you died centuries ago.” Their tone was suspicious despite the confusion. A wry smile appeared on his lips at their words.
“It’s what you get for falling in love with an angel.” He murmured, his eyes darkening. The hazel deepened before it fully transitioned to black and understanding dawned on the angel’s face.
“Demon.” They murmured softly and he nodded.
“You were dropped in the palace and left for dead. What happened?” The grimace told a lot more than he expected, but they seemed to weigh up the options before sighing.
“When word got out, about us, mercenaries were sent after you.”
“I remember. They’re the reason I became what I am.” His tone was dry and they shot him an apologetic look.
“They didn’t expect you to fight back, but I warned them. I warned them that you were of noble blood and had been raised to know how to fight. They watched me for a century after that. I couldn’t function. You’d died and my heart had gone.”
His heart clenched and stopped himself from reaching out to them, to offer a form of comfort.
“Were they watching to make sure you didn’t do something drastic?” They snorted.
“I was the angel who fell in love with a human. They refuted my claims of soulmate because angels only mate with other angels.” The scorn dripping from their tone surprised Ashton. As memories began to slot into place, he remembered bits and pieces.
“Did he forbid it?” And they shook their head, choppy hair falling into their eyes. A trembling hand moved to grasp it and Ashton watched as tears filled their eyes.
He silently realised that the change in hairstyle was not a personal choice on their part.
“He would’ve blessed it had he known. Had I not hidden it from him. He had me helping the lost souls, as a penance but also because I understood. Then Ariale, he tried so hard, but I couldn’t move on from you. He got angry, bitter.” Ashton closed his eyes.
“And then I appeared in the human realm, didn’t I?”
“They weren’t sure it was you until this year. Word spread that you had climbed the ranks but no one knew how much. I was forbidden.”
“You were my mate in my human life and they wouldn’t risk the bond carrying over to this life.” Ashton figures out the unspoken words. Tears were in their eyes as they took in a trembling breath.
“Ariale demanded judgement. That was when I learned one of his brothers-”
“Was the one that I killed as a human.” He closed his eyes, anger and frustration bubbling up. Ashton never felt violent towards Angels; he couldn’t after he started unlocking his human life. But the burning anger made him want to go to the high heavens and demand their own trials.
“Yes. They demanded my judgement for your actions since I’d claimed you as my soulmate.” His heart sank.
“Judgement deemed you guilty on behalf of my actions.”
“I begged with him, cried that it wasn’t fair. He told me the judgement had been made but he would not cast me from the heavens. He would send me to my mate. Ariale got hold of me first.”
Ashton couldn’t hold back his snarl of anger. How dare they claim righteousness yet hurt one of their own in such a way? He was furious.
“What did Ariale do?” His eyes held theirs and he watched as they winced as they moved.
“You saw my wings. There are some curses embedded as well. I cannot complete our bond, it’ll kill both of us most likely or just me. He was a bitter angel about me not moving on.” Ashton could only silently promise to end this bitter Angel's life if ever he crossed paths with him.
“I brought you to a coven of witches who, well a handful I consider friends. Roe is going to want to know the curses and Marcella won’t stand for your curse to prevent you completing the bond.” He held his hand out to them, resting it palm facing up on the bed.
“Ashton-”
“No,” he interrupted, “we were denied when I was human. I refuse to let some fucking asshole of an angel ruin it for us now. You’re mine.” He surprised himself at the ferocity of his words, but the look of relief of their face spoke volumes for him.
“Let me speak to the witches first. They need a fair idea of what to work with.” They finally whispered as they rested their hand in his.
He didn’t hesitate to bring their knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to them.
“Your will is mine. I’ll track them down and see what I can do. Rest for now, you’re safe.” He waited until they had settled back and fallen asleep. It was easy to track down Gem, and thankfully Roe and Marcella were with her.
“They’ve woken up. We’ve spoken a little and they’re resting now but it was a bitter angel that imbued them with curses. One of the curses means we can never complete our bond without their death.” Gems eyes were sympathetic as Marcella gasped in anger.
“Then I’ll find the damn curse and pick it apart piece by piece. They’re in safe hands. Now do you need a shoulder or do you need to vent?” He felt like he was being scolded by a mother hen, but he smiled at Marcella.
“I’m going to put some brats in their place.” He caught exasperated yet fond looks before he disappeared and when he reappeared in the office’s, he knew he had his work cut out for him.
Michael was waiting, a file in his hand.
“Mallory is one of Torrid’s lackeys. She got her claws in but this one has brains. He’s been laying low until Roe’s coronation got announced. He hasn’t been sitting idle either.” Michael explained as Ashton took the file and glanced down.
He scoffed.
“Get the brats that keep defying me. Let them learn their lessons from the elder who won’t learn to adapt.” Ashton instructed as he made his way down the halls. Michael vanished as Ashton reached the interrogation rooms.
“Sir.” The demon was a younger one in looks, but she’d been around about a century longer than Ashton.
“Sal. He's still not giving up names?” She shook her head.
“We caught one name. Talisia. I’ve got one of the older agents running her down now.” He nodded before snapping his fingers and chains wrapped themselves around the unwilling demon. The noise of protest was cut off by the chains tightening.
Sal looked at Ashton with a raised eyebrow.
“They’ve gotta learn.” He shrugged as he dragged the prisoner out, heading from the buildings to the pit that lay just outside of the palace.
Demons began to curiously gather as he dragged the chained up demon through the streets. More gathered as he kicked the demon into the pit, the chains unwinding from the demon.
Ashton held his stance, casual and collected. Michael pulled up on the other side as he felt Sal watch his back.
“Someone who cannot change is someone to be made an example of.” He called over to the gathered demons. They fell silent.
“This is just how he treats anyone who disagrees with him.” Mallory called to the crowd and a whisper of unrest rushed through the gathered.
Ashton snorted.
“We all knew a new Queen would be ruling. You are apart of the group that tried to murder her and one of her coven sisters ten years ago and escaped justice. The last ten years has been making sure that whilst you may disagree with a hybrid Queen, you can see she’s capable.” Ashton called out earning mutters of agreement.
“She will be weak willed like the new brats that you recruit.” This time mutters from Michael’s group were loud and he turned in shock. “They are trying to fool you!”
A laugh rang out from that side and a small female stepped forward, face in a vicious snarl.
“You just called us weak willed brats did you not? You tried to brainwash us into believing that a new queen would be terrible but failed to mention you attempted to murder her long before we arrived.” She glanced up at Ashton who nodded.
“If I was a merciful man, I’d let her roast you until you are nothing but dust. But I am not merciful and I am not a man.” Demons fell silent as his body shifted, cracks running through his skin as he snarled and the pits opened.
Hell hounds rushed around their newest meal and wasted no time in tears pieces off, his screams echoing around until they faded to gurgles before falling silent.
“Take your quarrels with our new queen to the ones that have been trying to teach you the last decade. They will tell you what happened with her hybrid sister and what she did to the demon who tried to murder her mate.” He snarled before he disappeared back to the offices.
Ashton knew that he was going to get complaints from the older lot, but he was in no mood to deal with petty demons who could not adapt to change. If they were going to rule efficiently, then they needed to learn to adapt efficiently.
He headed back up, trying to grip his temper, but he was walking back into a volatile situation. He was angry on his angel’s behalf, knowing that they were thrown because of him.
It burned him that they were so wounded for so many years.
He sought out Gem who was waiting, a cup of tea sat on the arm of the chair, expecting.
“I’ve imbued the room in soundproof spells for you. Let it out, Ashton.” Her kind tone seemed to set off the temper and his anger flooded, skin cracking as he let out such a snarl that would’ve frightened any sensible witch.
Gem remained in place as he got up and paced, his hair crackling with power as his skin cracked further, blood red veins running down his face as he finally hurled the tea cup, the porcelain shattering against the wall.
Gem merely waved her hand and more pieces of fine china stacked themselves on the table closest to him and he threw every single piece, his fury and frustration reducing some of the pieces to nothing more than dust.
He was so angry that he couldn’t think straight, mind splintering. Part of him was stuck on the anger towards the underworld, the new demons that defied him as well as Roe. And the other part was stuck on his anger towards the high heavens for hurting his angel. His mate.
It took the better part of an hour before his anger finally began to recede enough that his skin returned to normal but it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. The sensation was strange and he could feel moisture in his eyes and he finally understood as Gem stood up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.
For the first time since he’d died, he was crying.
It took longer than he’d thought, another forty minutes, before he stopped crying, the heavy breathing slowing down until his tears were gone and his chest wasn’t burning from trying to take in oxygen.
Gem had another cup of tea waiting and once he was sitting back in the armchair, she got down to business.
“Now that you’re less likely to murder one of my coven should they look at you wrong, are you ready to tell me what happened? Tell me about the defiant and I’ll tell you what we found with your Angel.”
This made Ashton pause before his eyes narrowed on the witch.
“You’d have made a better demon.” He finally muttered darkly, taking another sip of tea. She dimpled at him before sitting back and letting him take the lead of the conversation.
He told her about the defiant demons, what he did to the traitor they found. He didn’t hide the violence from Gem and she didn’t flinch away. He felt his chest feel strangely lighter and when he said so, she smirked.
“You boys might think you’re soulless, but you’re not. You need to share the burdens that you all carry. It might not be a typical burden that weighs you down, I know that death means nothing to you. But the ones that have been defying you, it’s making you question your choices. That’s where your burden lies.”
“Maybe a better therapist than demon.” He finally conceded and she laughed.
“Would you like to know about the curses?” This had his immediate attention, tea long since abandoned.
“How did you figure it out?”
“They used your blood. The curse is specifically tied to you. It’s a long forgotten curse that will burn them when you initiate the bond.” He felt his stomach turn.
“But our bond initiates from touch does it not?” And Gem shook her head.
“It’s different for you two. You’ve been bonded before but it broke with your death, correct?” He nodded. “You need to be physically intimate with them for the bond to reassert itself.”
“Is there a counter?” Gem visibly brightened.
“There is. The only problem is that we need to get a hold of a faerie. And they’re tricky little blighters that don’t do anything unless there’s something in it for them.” And Ashton could feel his hopes sink to the pit of his stomach.
Faeries were notoriously tricky to deal with and unless there was something in the deal that benefitted them, they wouldn’t help. And he couldn’t see how a faerie would benefit from his mate being freed from the curse.
“I’ll see if I can call in a favour. Faeries might be fickle, but they honour debts between magical races. Go see your angel and I’ll get in contact.” Gem ushered him from the room and with a sigh he made his way upstairs, his feet feeling like lead as he got closer to the room.
As he pushed open the door and their face lit up upon seeing him, and despite the dashed hope, he felt warm and a sense of comfort as the heaviness lifted as he took a seat, his hand slipping into theirs.
He could deal with this.
—
Gem had put in many calls, but none were being answered. It was like they knew the favour she was going to ask.
When Michael had shown up to check in, Ashton was yet to leave the angels' side, and so Gem caught him, making him pause.
“It’s better that he stays with them for now. I, however, need a perspective of a demon.” This pulled Michael up short.
Although he wasn’t a frequent visitor with Gem, he didn’t realise that she was comfortable enough to ask a favour, or at least ask for his advice.
“I’m curious.” She snorted at his words and tilted her head to what had been dubbed as her sitting room. Michael followed quietly, his eyes glancing to the grand staircase before ducking into the room.
The door slammed shut behind him, making him raise an eyebrow as he took the offered seat.
“I wish I could use the term ‘curiosity killed the cat’, but you’d be quick to be a smartass back.” The older witch muttered. Michael grinned.
“Absolutely. So what do you need me for that you couldn’t drag one of my elusive brothers out for?” He sat back in the chair, his elbow leaning on the arm rest as his head rested against his fingers. Gem rolled her eyes.
“The Fae are notoriously fickle. I have favours to call in but I know they won’t do it without some kind of reward. How can I put it in a way that they’ll be helping another species without actually gaining something in return?”
“Just promise you won’t murder them. Usually does the trick.” Gem stared at him, her lips parted in shock at his words and brash attitude that came with them.
Only when his lips began to twitch did she realise he was teasing her.
“Michael!” Her tone was flustered as she set her cup down.
He laughed.
“When it comes to a demon, you do need to promise that you won’t kill them. I wasn’t necessarily joking but they’ll be more inclined to listen if they know that their life isn’t on the line.” Gem just sighed.
“Any other wise ideas from you?” The dry tone made Michael snort.
“Just go with your standard offerings. They’re selfish creatures so if the gifts are for them along with the promise of their life, there’s going to be at least one who will answer your call.”
Gem could see where Michael was coming from and for a moment she wondered if that would be enough to encourage the fae to listen to their requests.
“I’ll try them once more but if they don’t work, we’re going to need a different way to get their help because they’ve been ignoring all of my other offerings.” Gem commented to Michael quietly. This made the demon pause in his movements.
“This is for the Angel that’s Ashton’s mate, correct?” Gem nodded and he sighed. “Let me deal with them, then. That way, we’re being upfront that a demon is involved and they may just respond to the plea.” Gem looked stunned for a moment before a bright smile crossed her features.
“Thank you Michael.”
“You’ve kept my brothers and I alive for the better part of a decade. Allowed us to reside in your home and still use that protection. It’s the least I can do for you. Where’s the fae mound?”
The following morning, Michael strolled in with a smug grin on his lips, and then glanced back to the door.
Gem nearly dropped her tea as the being she had been so desperate for stepped into the house. She held an air about her that seemed to demand her attention, the dark braids hanging over one shoulder, her eyes staring at Gem as the older witch studied the darker skinned being that had finally taken up her offerings and she couldn’t stop herself as she grabbed the back of the chair for support.
“You know what’s expected, what we need?”
“I do this as a favour to my mate.” Her words were smooth like honey and Gem felt her jaw dropped, staring at Michael in shock.
“Michael?”
“She’s my mate. When they sensed my presence, they sent her to deal with me. Neither of us anticipated the bond, but we didn’t deny it either.”
“And your council?” Gem asked hesitantly, curiosity tinging her tone.
“They accept the bond but will not welcome me back. So I asked them for one last favour for myself and my mate.” Gem felt the relief flood through her veins as she stepped forward, clasping her hands around the faerie’s, ignoring the look of shock at her touch.
“I cannot begin to tell you how much this means, for all of us. These four demons, it was difficult at first a decade ago, but they’re family, and to see one hurting, it’s difficult for all of us now.”
Michael scoffed and Gem gave him a wry smile.
“They learned their lessons long ago, you know that. We will proceed with the ritual on the next full moon if that is acceptable for you?” She returned her attention to the faerie whom she had yet to let go of.
“Perfectly acceptable.”
“Wonderful. What’s your name, dear?”
The faerie seemed to hesitate, glancing to Michael first before offering the older witch a kind smile.
“They called me Adana.”
-
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Forbidden - Part 2
Dealer!yoongi x Reader
Warnings ➜ smut, oral (m receiving), non-protected sex, tiny bit of angst
Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him, knowing exactly how dangerous it was.
Word Count ➜ 7.6K
Part 1 here!
NB: if drug-taking in fics isn’t for you/or makes you uncomfortable, also reader is literally getting with a drug dealer so if any of this isn't for you - please don’t read!
The next morning you wake up with a killer headache and a dry mouth.
You turned to your right and saw a passed-out Taehyung lying next to you. Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to recall last night’s events.
After your phone call with Yoongi you had gone back downstairs and partied. Hard.
You remembered at about 5am you were too tired and Jin had announced you could sleep in any of the bedrooms, Taehyung had followed you to talk but you both had just ended up passing out.
You smiled, remembering Taehyung had been concerned with no ulterior motives, you two were just talking complete nonsense however for about an hour before you both had just fallen asleep.
You reached out to the bedside table, where you had left your phone and checked the time.
10AM it had read, only 4ish hours of sleep? Why the hell were you awake?
You saw you had a message from Yoongi, but you were pretty sure you needed a few more hours of sleep if you wanted to text back anything that made actual sense.
You did, however, make the valiant effort of plugging your phone into a charger before passing out again.
When you woke up again you didn’t know how much time had passed.
You reached out for your phone again to see it read 1PM, Taehyung was still miraculously passed out beside you.
You took a minute to examine his features, how the fuck did anyone deserve to be that beautiful? Especially after a night of partying? Jackass, you thought before sticking an elbow into his side.
“Tae,” you called out in a singsong tone. “Tae wake up.”
You earned a small groan from him and knew you were getting somewhere.
“Taeeeeeeee,” You called again.
You rolled over onto him, straddling his hips and leaning into him.
“Tae wake up!”
Semi awake - you knew this because he had consciously grabbed your hips to keep you in place – he groaned again, probably unaware of who you even were.
“Wake up you loser!” You said, cupping his cheeks and shaking his head side to side a little.
“M’awake.” He replied, his grip on your hips tightening when he finally realised who you were.
He smiled, his eyes still closed.
“Hm, I always have dreams of waking up with you on top of me like this.” He murmured.
“Never thought it would happen though.” He said as he slowly opened his eyes.
You were 100% sure you’ve probably never looked worse but Taehyung only smiled wider when he saw your face.
“I was just trying to wake you up…” You trailed off, suddenly very aware of how your crotch was literally sitting on his.
You rolled off him, leaving him to fully wake up, pulling your phone off the charger.
You remembered the message from Yoongi, unlocking your phone. A smile crossed your face as you remembered the events from last night.
9:39AM
Yoongi: hey, text me when ur awake
You grinned even harder, typing your reply.
1:13PM
You: hey sorry my lazy ass is only awake now, i stayed in Jins, let me call you when im home and showered T_T
“God, you must have it bad.” Taehyung said from beside you.
You glared at him “I don’t know what you're talking about.” You replied.
“Well if how hard your smiling at your phone is anything to go by, you must clearly have it bad for somebody.” He said.
You rolled your eyes at him.
“I’m going back to my dorm.” You said, standing up, feeling a little dizzy.
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you.” He said, winking.
You mimicked gagging as you threw your shoes on and fled Jin’s house.
*
As you stepped out of the warmth of the shower and wrapped a towel around your hair, you threw on a long t-shirt and got settled into your bed.
You pulled out your phone and opened up your recents, hitting Yoongi’s name, you watched it as it began ringing.
You became a little nervous, your mind thinking back to everything that had gone on last night.
You put the phone up to ear listening to the sounds as you closed your eyes letting out a heavy sigh of exhaustion.
They sprung back open as soon as you heard the “Hello?” from the other side of the line.
“Hey.” Was all you could manage, your anxiety sky rocketing.
“Hey,” Yoongi replied. “So how bad is your hangover?” He asked.
You laughed and scoffed. “Leave me alone! I am currently dying and in serious need of unhealthy food.”
“Maybe I can help with that?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice like you were going to tell him no.
“What do you mean?” You asked, a smile on your face.
“I can pick up anything you want, bring it to you. We can talk.” He said.
“Oh yes please that sounds amazing!” You said, glee overwhelming you.
“Okay text me what you want and your address.”
And with that the conversation ended, you quickly jumped up to dry your hair and put on a pair of shorts.
When there was a knock on the door you leapt up, heart about to beat right through your chest.
You opened it up with a smile and Yoongi smiled back holding up food in one hand. You grabbed his hand and pulled him in.
Your dorm room was small so you didn’t really have any other choice but to sit down on your bed and pat the space beside you.
“Here is the chicken strips your majesty ordered.” He said, sitting beside you.
“Thank you so much, you have no idea how hungry I am.” You opened up the bag getting stuck in like some depraved animal.
“I didn’t know you lived in a dorm,” He said, gazing around your room.
“Yeah,” you said, munching on fries, you swallowed and began again. “I’m in my 3rd year.”
“Wow, I don’t know…I pictured you to live in some ridiculous mansion like the rest of them do.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“No, believe it or not, I am in no way rich, far from it actually, I met them because my mom used to clean Namjoon’s house actually, she used to bring me along. That’s how we all met.”
You weren’t ashamed that you had significantly less money than your friends, far from it actually, your mom was a single mother who did her best for you.
“Oh really? That’s actually quite surprising.” Yoongi said, his eyes skimming over your face, meeting your eyes.
“I’m not ashamed! Those rich dicks help me a lot actually, they’ve definitely made sure I didn’t I go hungry or anything, they treat me well, I’m super thankful.” You said, taking another bite of your food, it was going down a treat.
“Thank you for the food, I have some money in my coat pocket-“ You made a move to stand.
“Please, it’s on me.” Yoongi said, putting a hand on your arm to stop you getting up.
You laughed. “I probably just made it sound like I’m some sort of charity case.”
Yoongi shook his head, “Not at all, I just wanted to do something nice.”
You looked up at him again, his dark hair was falling into his eyes a little and you couldn't stop yourself thinking about how beautiful the man in front of you was, even if he did look a little serious at the moment.
“Listen,” he began, “about last night, I hope you don’t regret it.” He said, he wasn’t looking at you anymore.
You put the rest of your food to the side, wanting to move closer to him.
“Of course I don’t.” You reassured him. “Do you?” You asked.
Yoongi looked at you once again, “No.”
“See? We both don’t regret anything. I’m glad.” You said, resting a hand on his thigh.
“I want to talk though,” He started, his eyes focused on where your hand was. “I know it’s no secret. What my job is.”
It was your turn to listen to his story and you did, you nodded, letting him continue.
“I know what I said to you the first night we met, and I won’t lie, I still feel like that a little, I’m a first-class scumbag, right? I mean what else kind of person deals drugs.”
He said, scoffing at himself.
He kept going, he clearly wanted to get everything out on the table.
“I never wanted this, my dad’s side of the family are all like this, my mom ran off, I guess she was afraid of him, but she didn’t take me with her. I grew up with this and I never wanted to do his dirty work for him. I tried to fight him on it but what can I do? He wouldn’t let me leave. I know I’m a bad person, I try so hard not to be, I only sell to people I can trust, no addicts, no one underage, just mainly rich kids who want to party, ya know? I know that doesn’t make it any better…”
You could tell he was struggling to get this out, but it needed to be done.
“My dad’s a hardass, he doesn’t even do any of the dirty work though, just sits on his throne all day keeping his hands clean. He threw me into this, his own son, said he wanted me to get a taste of what it was like out there, he said I won't have to do it for long but I needed some toughening up as he put it.”
You were listening intently, afraid to speak. Him saying this made it all so real.
You knew what he was doing was wrong, but the fact that he was basically being forced to do it made your heart ache, he didn’t ask to be born into that life and running away from home when your father was that kind of man…it wasn’t an option either you guessed.
“I’m not making excuses, really I’m not, I just... I like you a lot and there is no way I can take this any further without you knowing all this. I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” He said.
You looked at him, he was still looking down unable to meet your eyes, was he really that ashamed?
A part of you wanted to tell him you didn’t want to see him again, to not let yourself get into this sort of situation, but something about him was so damn infatuating, you wanted to keep seeing him, get to know him, his hobbies, his hopes and dreams. You wanted all of him.
It had been a while since he spoke and you realised you hadn’t even replied to him, too caught up in your own thoughts.
“Look I get it, I’ll just go.” And as he made a move to stand you hastily grabbed at his wrist.
“No please don’t go Yoongi. Please. This was just a lot to process, I’m sorry. But I definitely don’t want you to walk away.” You said giving him a -what you hoped looked- reassuring smile.
Yoongi smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I know it’s a lot, that’s why I don’t date, or get involved with girl’s at all for that matter. But then I saw you at Namjoon’s party…I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, I’ve never felt like that before seeing someone for the first time.”
Your heart swelled.
“I thought the same about you, I mean I tried to flirt from the damn bathroom.” You said, laughing a little.
“I know,” Yoongi replied, laughing a little too as he recalled the memory. “I said that cheesy line as well, I felt like a damn moron for that.”
You laughed harder. “Don’t worry, I liked it.”
“You were drunk!”
“I wasn’t that drunk…well actually…” You trailed off as you recalled.
You both were laughing hard now.
You couldn’t believe how natural this all felt, being like this with him.
And that’s how the rest of your afternoon with him went, just talking about anything and everything, you were getting to know each other and it felt amazing.
So when he announced he had to go you had pouted and he gave you a quick kiss on your pout and promised to call you.
*
You were sitting with Jungkook in your local coffee shop, both stressing about assignments, but avoiding them like the idiots you were.
“This has got to be the worst week of my life, I feel like I’ve been hungover for about 5 days and this essay is due in 2 days, how do they expect me to write five thousand words whilst trying to party? I go to college to party, not to work.” Jungkook was moaning, you weren’t really listening to him, you rolled your eyes.
“Jungkook you’re gonna flunk out if you don’t start doing some work.” You said sighing.
“They can’t flunk me,” he began with a cocky smirk, “When your dad’s on the board there are some perks, for example, doing the bare minimum and getting away with it.”
You scoffed at him, hitting his shoulder.
“And where is that attitude going to take you in life? Hmm?” You were tired of dealing with his rich boy antics.
“I don’t know, hopefully surrounded by some good pussy and parties 24/7.”
You were pretty sure if you rolled your eyes any harder they were going to fall out of your head.
“Well, unlike you, I have to actually put some effort in, I’m going to the library, it’s due on Monday.” As you got up Jungkook stood with you.
“I’ll walk you over.” He offered and you didn’t decline.
As you walked across the grass, Jungkook had his hands in his pockets.
“So does that mean you’re not going to the party tomorrow?” He asked.
You shook your head a firm no, that was the last thing on earth you needed to be doing.
“Awh no fun, I hate it when you’re not there.” He said and you gave him the side-eye.
“What are you talking about? We barely speak at parties, you're always too busy trying to get laid by the first brunette that walks through the door.” You stated.
“Oh come on! Not fair. Me and you know how to have a good time, you’re the only person I can count on to get as fucked up as me.” He said, smiling at you.
You hit his shoulder again. “Why are you so proud? Us embarrassing ourselves isn’t cute.”
“It is so.” He retorted.
You just shook your head, walking in silence until you were back on campus.
“Hey look… isn’t that Min Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, nodding his head in the direction he was in.
You shot your head up immediately, Jungkook was right, Yoongi was there. Standing in front of what you could only assume was his car, it was sleek, black and look like it cost more than a house.
You looked away, turning to Jungkook. “How do you know who he is?”
“A lot of people on campus know who he is, he’s infamous, you know he used to go here? He dropped out, turned into… ya know…a drug dealer.” Jungkook said lowering his voice.
“He refuses to sell to me. I’m pretty sure he’s Jin’s dealers though, I see him around sometimes.”
You widened your eyes in surprise, smacking Jungkook on the shoulder for what had to be the 15th time today.
“Ouch! What did I do now?” He said, faking hurt.
“You tried to buy from him? What are you, some sort of idiot?” You scolded.
“He’s a cool guy Y/N, I’ve heard the rumours about him selling to only a select few, but I thought I’d chance my arm anyway, see if he was down, he most definitely was not.” Jungkook said, laughing at the obviously funny memory.
“Jesus Christ Jungkook, you really are shameless.” You stated, distracted.
Yoongi had spotted you, he wasn’t making it obvious but he stole a few looks your way.
“Is he…looking at you Y/N?” Jungkook said, suddenly aware of the situation.
You immediately turned bright red.
“Oh my god, he is!” Jungkook half-shouted.
“Jungkook oh my god, shut up!” You said back at him, suddenly irritated at his childishness, if anyone were to find out about you and Yoongi – well let’s just say Jungkook would’ve been dead last on your list.
“I can’t believe this…wait, how do you even know him?” He asked, he stopped walking and suddenly turned to you, going into full blown interrogation mode.
“I don’t! Well not really, I just talked to him at Namjoon’s party once, I didn’t even know who he was.” You said, it technically wasn’t a lie, you just couldn’t let Jungkook know it had went so much further than that.
“Jesus…” Jungkook breathed out, he was clearly in deep thought.
“Please stop making it sound like such a bad thing Jungkook, it isn’t that deep!”
“He’s a fucking dealer Y/N, do you know how dangerous that makes him!?” He shot back, clearly worried for you, it would be almost endearing if you hadn’t felt such a strong need to defend Yoongi.
“You know he doesn’t even want that life? His dad forced him into it, he didn’t have a choice in the matter…” You trailed off, hoping Jungkook would be reasonable.
“How well do you know him really? I’m sure that makes it seem like it’s all okay Y/N, but it doesn’t.” He wasn’t budging on his opinion.
You wanted to fight him on this, but honestly, how could you?
“You didn’t...get with him…did you?” Jungkook asked, seeing how worked up you were getting up over the situation.
“Jungkook, I swear to god, if you don’t stay out of my business, we won’t be friends anymore.” You shoved him out of your way and stormed on, you heard him call your name but you ignored him.
As you were walking it suddenly hit you, Yoongi had just witnessed your whole confrontation, he hadn’t been close enough to hear but anybody with two eyes could clearly see you and Jungkook had been arguing.
You didn’t look over at Yoongi, you put your head down and powerwalked all the way to your dorm.
As you closed your door you threw your bag on the floor in anger. Who the fuck did Jungkook think he was? He wasn’t in charge of your life you were a grown woman.
You began shedding clothes, suddenly feeling too hot, you were getting far too worked up, ready to burst into tears.
Your phone was buzzing incessantly in your back pocket and you finally took it out, looking to see who it was;
Notifications:
JK: iMessage(s) (8)
Yoongi: iMessage(s) (2)
You sighed and threw your phone on the bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of them, your head was hurting and you just wanted to crawl into your bed.
So you did.
It was only 2pm, but a nap couldn’t hurt, your problems would still be there when you woke up, but you could avoid them for a few hours.
*
When you woke up, it was due to the sound of your phone vibrating once again, you didn’t know how long it had been doing that exactly, but the fact it had been seeping into your dream, you figured it had been a while.
You picked it up from beside you and squinted at the bright light in your face.
Incoming call: JK
You hastily declined the call and when you did you saw the notifications on your home screen.
Notifications:
JK: iMessage(s) (14)
Missed calls (6)
Yoongi: iMessage(s) (5)
Missed Calls (2)
You groaned at the time, you’d been asleep for about 2 hours, but Jungkook obviously had a lot to say to you, you knew he had been saying everything to you out of his love for you, that he didn’t mean to be mean or hurtful. Heck, you knew what kind of situation you were in and damn you and Yoongi had beat that horse to death the first time he had came over to your dorm, you were taking it slow, unaware of where you two wanted to take this, but you both knew how badly you’d wanted to keep seeing each other.
You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone, staring at the messages Jungkook had left first.
2:07PM
JK: Y/N I’m sorry about how that went down, we need to talk
JK: Please don’t ignore me, I know I annoyed you
JK: I know I didn’t even take the time to really hear you out
JK: You know how much I care about you
JK: How could I stand by and let you just do something like that?
JK: Wht kind of friend would that make me?
JK: please please don’t shut me out
JK: I love you so much don’t be mad at me :(
3:13PM
JK: I promise I wont say anything to anyone
JK: I do think you should tell Jin though
3:56PM
JK: Y/N please pick up the phone
JK: Im going fucking crazy sitting here
JK: I just need to know you don’t hate me :(
JK: ik Im being a stalker here, but just one word to reassure me you’ll talk to me again is all I need :( ur my best friend
You sighed heavily as you scrolled through his texts, he was obviously annoyed at himself and clearly demented at the thought you may never speak to him again.
You put your anger aside to type one quick reply.
4:04PM
You: I don’t hate you, I just don’t know how to talk about this with you yet, give me time.
He typed a reply right away.
JK: okay !! I understand im so glad you replied i love u tho
You really needed to set things straight with Jungkook but you knew you both needed to speak to each other in person, you would in due time.
As you took another heavy sigh you clicked over to yours and Yoongi’s text conversation.
2:04PM
Yoongi: Hey is everything okay with you and your friend (jungkook I think, im not sure…)
Yoongi: I wanted to come say hi but things look a little heated, do you wnt me to come over?
3:45PM
Yoongi: im sure youre busy I don’t want to be that person who worries over not getting a reply, but I really do hope ur ok…
Yoongi: ive tried calling u sorry if that’s annoying lol, let me know ur okay?
Yoongi obviously didn’t realise your argument with Jungkook had been over him, so how could he know you couldn’t even tell him what you two had been arguing about, you didn’t want to lie to him he clearly seemed to care, but you thought the truth would be more damaging than good as you began to type back.
4:07PM
You: hey im sorry! Ur not annoying i just accidentally fell asleep, sorry if i left you to worry about me although it is very cute tho,,,, me and jungkook were just talking about one of my close girlfriends, he said something about wanting to fuck her and i got angry…it’s the norm with me and him, nothing to worry abt 😙
You read over what you typed about 5 times, hoping it was believable, you pressed send.
You lay in your bed waiting for ten minutes before you got a reply.
4:19PM
Yoongi: it didn’t look like nothing,,,my offer to come and see u still stands ya know… im still about campus
Your heart felt heavy.
You thought about how much you wanted to see him, and you knew that even though Jungkook was right he was also so very wrong.
4:21PM
You: yeah i would actually really like that…you remember where i am don’t u?
After about 10 minutes you heard a knock on your door and you bounced up from your bed, you probably looked a hot mess but you didn’t care, you just felt giddy at the thought of seeing Yoongi.
You pulled open the door and were practically beaming at him.
“Hi.” You said.
“Hi yourself.” He replied as he walked in, you took a step back still watching him as he closed the door behind him.
You were still awe of how effortlessy beautiful he was, the dainty silver chain around his neck, his hair was getting a little too long but the way it was falling into his eyes made him even more beautiful.
“What is it?” He asked a small laugh escaping him, clearly confused by your staring.
“Nothing really…I just think you’re cute.” Your eyes widened after you finished speaking, that sounded a whole lot better in your head.
Yoongi let out an amused scoff.
“You think I’m cute?” He retorted.
He took a step towards you and you felt your heart rate began to go a lot faster.
“Well…I d-,” He was getting closer. “I don’t know – it just slipped out.” You said.
“It just slipped out?” He repeated.
You had never felt more flustered in your life and it only got worse as he finally got close enough to rest his hands on your hips and pull you close to him.
“Do you…wanna watch a movie or something?” You asked, god he really was fucking you up.
“No.” Was all Yoongi said before he leaned in and kissed you.
You welcomed his kiss immediately, leaning into his touch and wrapping your hands around his neck, teasing the ends of his hair with the tips of your fingers.
You slowly began incoporating your tongue into the kiss and let out a pleased moan when Yoongi began lightly sucking on it.
“You make the prettiest noises…” He said breathily between your kisses.
“Hmmm.” Was all you responded.
“Even better hearing them in person rather than over the phone.” He stated.
You froze a little feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the memory of Yoongi talking you through your orgasm over the phone.
“I must’ve jerked off to the memory of that about a million times, god it was so fucking hot,” You were staring wide eyes at him, you could feel the familiar heat growing between your legs.
“R-really?” Was all you could mutter as Yoongi began kissing your neck his hands reaching round to grab at your ass.
“Are you kidding me? Of course, you sounded amazing baby, you did so well for me.”
Fuck.
You could feel yourself getting more flustered by the second, all you could think to do was to kiss him again.
As you both grew more heated you let Yoongi guide over to your bed and your stomach was doing flips in anticipation.
You let him lie down and crawled over on top of him straddling his hips.
You pulled off your top leaving you in your bra and Yoongi just stared at your chest.
His hands reaching up he moved round to unhook your bra.
You shuddered at his touch and slender fingers getting to work and when he finally let your bra slide off your shoulders his hands reached up to palm at your breasts and you let out a small moan when he teased your nipple with his fingers.
“You’re beautiful.” He murmured.
You could feel him under you, growing hard and heavy.
You began grinding down allowing you both to have some friction.
“Fuck, I could come like this.” You moaned, grinding down on him harder.
Yoongi was smirking, “Yeah why don’t you try?” He challenged.
You smiled back at him, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you went to town.
“Fuck, I can feel how big you are Yoongi.”
You swore you felt his cock twitch at that.
“Want you so bad, so fucking bad.” You were talking yourself up now, getting yourself more and more worked up, you were so close.
“Yeah? Show me how bad you want me baby, fucking use me.” Yoongi said while he continued to tease your nipples, he sat up slightly, using his mouth to suck one into his mouth.
“Fuck!” Was all you managed before you came undone, riding yourself on Yoongi through your orgasm.
“You really weren’t lying.” Was all Yoongi could manage before you began moving your body down his.
You pulled his jeans down, revealing the outline of him through his boxers, your mouth watering.
You palmed over him, “You really are big, fuck.” You whispered, almost to yourself.
“You want to suck my dick baby?” He offered.
You nodded like a crazy woman, you wanted him so bad and him asking you something like that only spurred you on.
You pulled his briefs down letting his cock spring free.
“Jesus.” Was all you could say.
Yoongi laughed, clearly amused at your reaction to his dick.
“I mean it’s no Jesus but I appreciate the compliment.” He said.
You laughed, hard. You couldn’t believe you had his dick in your hand and he was making you laugh like an idiot.
“Okay stop or I won’t be able to do a damn thing.” You stated, trying to get your breath back.
“Hm okay sorry I’ll stop.” But his smile still remained as he watched you.
You just smiled as you lowered your head taking him slowly into your mouth.
You wrapped your hand around what you couldn’t put in your mouth, beginning to really get to work.
You heard Yoongi’s breath hitch and let out a small groan at your actions and mentally congratulated yourself.
“Fuck you’re good at that.” He said breathless.
“Hmmm.” You moaned around him.
“Ah fuck baby please.” He said an encouraging hand on your head willing you to take more of him in your mouth.
So you did just that, you took more of him, he hit the back of your throat and as you tried to suppress your gag reflex Yoongi clearly appreciated what you were doing.
He moaned and oh god it is such a sexy noise you wanted to just start touching yourself then and there, you were insatiable.
After a few more minutes your jaw was beginning to ache but you never faltered wanting to finish the job, it’s Yoongi who stops you.
“Babe stop, I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna be inside you.” He stated and you felt yourself suddenly become nervous, looking up at him you could see his fucked out expression and it only turned you on more, you pushed your nerves to the side; you trusted him, and you’d wanted him this way from the moment you set your eyes on him.
“Do you have a condom?” Yoongi asked as you sat up to remove your skirt and underwear.
You turned to him to see him taking his shirt off, only to pause when you remembered you couldn’t even remember the last time you purchased condoms.
“Shit…No actually, I don’t.” You said.
Yoongi looked at you laughing a little in disbelief.
“No it’s okay, I’m clean and I’m on the pill!” You said as you straddled him, you weren’t going to let this ruin your first time with Yoongi.
“I’m clean too, to be honest it’s actually been a while-“
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” You interrupted him, “you still want to do this then?”
You saw his cock twitch at your teasing and you laughed a little only to gasp in shock as he grabbed you by the hips and all of a sudden you were underneath him.
“Of course I want to do this.” He said into your ear.
“Then do it, fuck me Yoongi, please.” You could hear the neediness in your voice but you didn’t care.
“Should I use my fingers first babe, I can stretch you out first-”
You didn’t even let him finish, too eager. “No, I’ll be okay I think I’m wet enough from already cumming. Please just hurry.”
Yoongi laughed and buried his head into the crook of your neck and let out a groan of frustration before pulling away and looking at you, he gave you a small kiss before muttering something that sounded something like what are you doing to me? But you weren’t sure.
Yoongi lined up at your entrance and you were already so wet the tip slid in with ease.
You let out a small whine as the initial feeling, you couldn’t believe this was finally happening.
“Baby jesus chirst…you are so wet…so tight…fuck you feel amazing.” He said.
You merely nodded in agreement, you didn’t trust yourself to speak, he was all in the way in you now and you had to bite your lip to hold back a scream.
“Please…move…Yoongi.” You managed.
And with that Yoongi started thrusting into you, hard.
You were moaning loudly completely lost in the pleasure.
“Baby you sound so pretty, keep moaning like that, you want me to fuck you harder?” he asked.
He was breathing heavily but when you gave him a small yes he complied, fucking into you at an unbelievable pace, your body started moving a little up the bed but Yoongi grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place.
“Yoongi just like that oh my god just like that.” You moaned.
Yoongi reached his hand down to rub at your clit and you jerked at the bolt of pleasure, it was almost too much. Almost.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you like this…” Yoongi murmured, “underneath me moaning like this.”
You smiled “Really? Did you get off to the thought of this a lot?” You asked teasingly.
“Fuck more than I care to admit.” He breathed out.
You lifted your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
He was hitting you deeper now and his relentless attack on your clit was only causing you to reach your end quicker, you put your face in the crook of his neck and let out a loud whine.
“Baby, are you close already?”
Yoongi had slowed now but he was rubbing your clit faster and you could feel your orgasm about to wash over you.
“Yes – fuck – I’m gonna come.” You said.
Yoongi was panting heavy, picking up his pace again, he could feel you clenching around him and you knew he was just as close as you.
“Come for me please baby.” And with a few final strokes of your clit, your orgasm hit you like a train.
You were lost in yourself, lost in your orgasm you took a moment to come back down to earth you put your hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist encouraging him to come.
“Baby please come, please fill me up.” You said in your fucked out moan.
And he did, spilling inside you the feeling of him filling you up was so blissful you moaned again.
“Oh fuck,” Yoongi whispered you almost didn’t hear him, but the way he said those words just confirmed he had enjoyed himself just as much as you had.
When he pulled out of you you were both still breathing heavily, the both of you so fucked out you couldn’t even speak yet, Yoongi rolled over to lay beside you.
After a minute of silence Yoongi finally spoke.
“That was-“
“Amazing.” You finished.
Yoongi laughed, leaning over to kiss you, a small affectionate peck that left you smiling like an idiot.
“Let me get you a cloth.” Yoongi offered, getting off the bed he pulled back on his underwear and walked into your small en-suite.
You could feel Yoongi’s cum seeping out of you and as gross as it was it only caused you to smile knowing what had just happened.
“Here.” Yoongi said, as he walked back out handing you the cloth, it was hot and you appreciated the fact he had taken the time to do that for you, it was sweet.
“Thank you.” You said sitting up to clean yourself.
You climbed off your bed aswell, throwing on Yoongi’s shirt to cover yourself up.
“Looks good on you.” Yoongi said.
You scoffed, “I’m gonna shower I’m sure I look like a mess…give me a minute?”
“Yeah no problem –” Yoongi was muttering as he reached for his phone to check it, after a second he was bouncing up.
“Actually I’m sorry I have to go – god I really don’t want to be that guy that just leaves right after…” He trailed off, his eyes wandering over your body until you realised he was looking at his own shirt on your body.
You nodded trying not to show your upset at the events that were unfolding in front of you.
You hastily reached for your dressing gown to cover up your naked form as you pulled his shirt up over your head.
“Y/N please don’t get quiet on me like that, you do know I care about you and I would not be leaving unless this wasn’t an emergency, right?” He said as he pulled on his shoes and stood up.
He made his way back over to you and took both your hands in his, encouraging you to look up at him.
“I’m sorry, I really am, please don’t be upset, please tell me you understand.”
It took everything in you to nod and give him a small smile.
“I’m fine Yoongi, go, I understand.” You lied.
He took another 10 seconds to further examine your face to make sure you weren’t upset, you were definitely giving him a convincing enough expression.
He gave you a small nod before grabbing his keys and phone giving you a small peck on the lips and leaving out the door.
You let out a huge sigh, you felt tired again.
*
You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and confused, you couldn't even remembering falling asleep again, you took a deep breath as you remembered yesterdays events.
After Yoongi had left you had stood there for a minute before you let the shame wash over you, you felt like you had just been used for a quick fuck, you wanted to believe Yoongi wasn’t like that but it was hard not to when he was already out the door even as his cum was still freshly inside you.
You had showered for a long time, trying to rid yourself of the negative thoughts that were overwhelming you.
Yoongi wasn’t like that, he had shared himself with you, told you details of his private life and in turn, had listened to your story as well, but was this a regular occurrence with him?
Was the time that you were able to spend together going to be far and few between?
You decided the best thing for you was to simply distract yourself so as you sat on your bed you opened up your laptop to get started on the assignment you had due, you decided to switch off your phone, you knew if you didn’t you would be checking it every 5 minutes waiting on a text from a certain someone.
A few hours passed as you really began getting into your work you figured you’d be able to get it finished by tomorrow, but a sharp knock on your door made you jump out of your skin.
“Y/N open up please.” You heard a muffled voice come from behind the door.
It was Jungkook.
You took a deep breath, you hadn’t been mentally ready to see him for a while, but here he was.
You stood up off your bed, walking to the door you hesitantly opened it just a crack as you peered out to him.
He looked good as usual, black jeans, black cap and that damn black leather jacket.
He immediately looked at you as you poked your head through the gap in the door.
“What do you want Jungkook?” You asked, you really weren’t in the mood to get lectured right now.
“What am I, some stranger? Let me in and we can talk.” He said moving closer to the door.
“Jungkook – I’m really not in the mood right now.” You said.
He pushed the door open anyway his strength no match for you.
“What are you deaf now? I don’t wanna talk Jungkook.” You stood back from him as he closed the door behind him, he really did look huge in your small dorm room.
“Please just let us talk this out, you know I hate fighting with you, the other guys… I will freeze their asses out when they’re mad at me I don’t care…but with you.” Jungkook looked at you with those bigs eyes and you let out a huge sigh, you had a soft spot for him.
“Okay, let’s talk.” You said with a heavy heart, you weren’t ready for the dose of reality Jungkook was going to hit you with.
He took a seat on your bed, your dorm room didn’t even have a desk so everything had to happen on your bed, you cringed a little when you realised you hadn’t even washed your sheets since you and Yoongi had had sex on them.
You took a seat beside him folding your legs up underneath yourself.
“You wanna tell me how this happened?” Jungkook said, you got the vibes he wanted everything out on the table.
“I wasn’t lying yesterday. I met him at Namjoon’s house party the other week. He was there because you all cried in Jin’s face about getting coke.” You said, you were definitely on the defence.
Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows a little, you know he could tell you were going to be snarky about this but he had the patience of a god when it came to you, lord knows you could be difficult.
“Okay…” Jungkook began slowly, “So you two just…what?”
You rolled your eyes. “Jungkook, I saw him at Namjoon’s party I flirted with him even after I found out who he was, I saw him at Jin’s again and he kissed me…he actually was here yesterday…” You didn’t know what else to say, how do you tell your best friend you were fucking a drug dealer, it wasn’t exactly something you just said, but you knew Jungkook was smart enough to already know what you were saying.
“What?! You mean you two have already…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, he trailed off looking like he was deep in thought.
“Aren’t you moving a little to fast here Y/N? I mean if you only met him at Namjoon’s party then –“ You took second to blink at Jungkook before hitting his shoulder.
“Excuse me?! You fuck the first girl you see at any party within an hour of meeting her and you’re going to lecture me about whoring it out?!” You weren't really that angry more in shock that Jungkook had actually said something like that to you.
Jungkook laughed a little at your reaction “I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry I guess it’s just because of who he is…you have to know this is a bad idea right?” He was looking at you a lot more serious now.
You nodded solemnly, “I know Jungkook, fuck, believe me, we both know.”
“But…let me guess, he’s not entirely what I’m picturing? Cause I know damn well you wouldn’t let get this worked up over someone if you didn’t like them a lot.”
Sometimes you forgot how attentive Jungkook was, a lot of your relationship was joking around with each other so when shit got serious you were reminded of the fact that he actually cared about you a lot and that he actually knew you pretty well.
“Yeah, it’s new but…I like him a lot, although I’m not even sure if the feelings are one hundred per cent reciprocated. Maybe it’s just self-deprecation thinking that… I don’t know it’s been so long since I’ve wanted to see someone more than once. I forgot how hard this shit is.” You scoffed out a laugh, you were pretty sure you sounded stupid but you weren’t sure how to talk about this.
“Please, are you kidding me? If the feelings aren’t reciprocated then he is a total dumbass because any guy would be so lucky to have you.” Jungkook said.
You didn’t know where to look, Jungkook speaking like this to you felt foreign.
“I know that was cheesy,” Jungkook laughed a little. “But it’s true, I mean look at Taehyung, he embarrasses himself all the time trying to get you to go out with him.”
You rolled your eyes.
“All Taehyung wants is a quick hump and dump.”
Jungkook scoffed “Are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure Tae’s been in love with you from the moment he set his eyes on you, remember when he gave you his favourite toy to play with and we all were in shock cause it was the first time we’d seen him share anything.”
You laughed at the memory, but Jungkook had no idea what he was talking about, Taehyung only saw you as a friend and possibly another notch on his belt.
“Listen what I’m trying to say is Y/N, at the end of the day this is your choice obviously but please be careful, please, I can look out for you but I don’t think I stand a chance against a drug lord’s crew if it came down to that.”
You looked at him in shock. “Jungkook don’t say shit like that oh my god! Nothing like that would happen!”
You shivered at the thought for a second, thinking about how you only saw Yoongi and not his world, it probably was as dangerous as Jungkook was imagining.
“I’m sorry okay, I’m just going to be worrying like crazy from now on, you know that right? Let me be the overbearing overprotective friend please.”
You let out a heavy sigh choosing to not say anything for a moment as you got lost in your own head.
“Y/N, I respect your choices always. But please be careful.”
You nodded, “Thank you Jungkook, and you know I will.”
“Listen I gotta go but I’ll text you okay?” Jungkook said as he stood up.
You stood up with him following him to the door.
He leaned in and gave you a hug, it was warm and you felt safe in his arms for the short moment they were around you.
You really did have great friends you thought.
With a quick goodbye, Jungkook left you alone with your thoughts.
PART 3
#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts smut#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#apologies for any spelling errors ive read over it a few times but even still i miss them#forbidden fic#mine
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what i want is to be with you
fandom: the wayhaven chronicles
pairing: mason/nb detective (Billie Vale)
rating: E
warnings: explicit for M being M
word count: ~4.5k
summary: The detective and Mason dance, and they talk about stars.
ao3
This was unbearable.
Every step felt like a mistake, likely because it was; Mason was seriously regretting not paying more attention when Nat was trying to teach him the steps. He couldn't stop staring at his feet, which Nat had said was "improper" and "unacceptable", but how else was he supposed to keep from stepping on Billie's foot again? He grunted for what felt like the hundredth time as he abruptly shifted his foot at the last second to narrowly avoid yet another mishap, scowling all the while.
On top of that, the ballroom was too large for his liking, filled with too many people; the light was too bright, crystals dangling from the chandeliers, refracting to and from every angle and leaving no spot unlit; waiters kept walking by with trays of little finger foods that, despite their size, managed to assault his sense of smell with every pass; the suit the Agency had provided was scratching at his skin whenever he so much as thought about moving; and none of these assholes seemed to ever shut the hell up. He was learning way more about the business dealings and personal dramas of smarmy rich people than he ever wanted to know. And it was keeping him from focusing on these steps that he shouldn't be struggling with so much, goddammit —
"You're doing pretty well, y'know."
Mason spared a moment to glance up at his partner. Billie was wearing an amused expression, and their eyes were lit up with a mirth that had only recently started showing up more often around Unit Bravo. It was far from unwelcome, but Mason forced himself to look back down and scoffed.
"I can do without the pity, thanks."
"No, I mean it," Billie insisted, gently running their thumb over his side where their hand rested. "You should've seen me the first few times I had to do this. I think Tina described it as 'somewhere between a toddler's first steps and a waddling duck.'"
That got a chuckle out of him, and he could see Billie grinning from the corner of his eye. "I can actually believe that." Billie was many things, but graceful wasn't one of them. Mason was actually a bit surprised they were pretty decent at this dancing thing; Billie didn't really seem like someone that would go for a ball. He meant to ask further, but as he made a step back, he felt his back collide with another dancer, and a frustrated growl came out instead. He quickly turned to snap at whoever made the stupid decision to stand right where Mason needed to be, but just as fast, Billie moved in front of him with a hand on his chest.
"Sorry about that," they blurted out before Mason would almost certainly say something they would all regret, their other hand raised in placation. (Well, Mason wouldn't regret it, but he imagined Ava and Nat would have some choice words for him, and that was usually worth avoiding.) The other dancer nodded, and Billie took a few moments to ask whether they were alright; uninterested, Mason spent the time noticing how Billie's hand was resting right over his heart. Their hand was warm, even through the irritatingly scratchy fabric of his suit, and he could feel their pulse tapping a faint beat through their fingertips. It was running a little faster than normal, but focusing on it helped bring his own frustration back down, until he was no longer in danger of jeopardizing the night over his two left feet.
Billie finally turned back to Mason, seemingly assured that the dancer wouldn't cause a scene, and they let their hand drag across his the sleeve of his suit as it slid down to grab his hand, threading their fingers through his own. "Come on, let's move a little farther away."
As he followed Billie's lead across the dance floor, he made a point to glare back at the dancer he had hit, smirking as they started a little. At least he could still tell someone to go fuck themselves with only a look, even if his dancing was shit.
Satisfied that they were far enough away from everyone to avoid another incident, Billie came to a stop. "This'll do," they said, looking up to meet Mason's eyes. The sheepish grin they had worn moments before turned back into a look that was becoming more and more familiar as of late. It was hard for Mason to describe; he wasn't entirely sure what Billie was trying to convey with it, only that it was... soft, and it made their blue eyes light up so brightly, and it made his chest tighten up in a way that wasn't wholly uncomfortable. He stared back, lost for a moment as Billie's hand, still holding his own, squeezed briefly before raising them back into position.
"You mind if I take the lead this time?" They asked, that baffling look still in place.
Mason blinked, setting his confusion aside for now. His eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a sharp smile, letting just a hint of fang come out. "You're always welcome to take the lead, sweetheart." He leaned in as he spoke, each word bringing him closer, until he was whispering beside their ear. "You could lead us somewhere we could try a few different moves, if you'd like." He revelled in the heat he could feel starting to radiate from them and chuckled lowly as they lost their response to a stutter. Satisfied for now, he let them off easy and just blew a soft breath over the shell of their ear before backing away.
It looked like Billie managed to get a hold over the blush before it spread across their face, which was a shame, but it wasn't like he wouldn't have more chances to see it later. Their expression had changed to one of flustered indignation, which was always one of his personal favorites, and if he felt a twinge of disappointment that the odd look from before was gone, well, so be it.
"Come on now, sweetheart," he teased, "show me how it's done." He readjusted his hands so they fit more comfortably against Billie's hand and side while they regained their composure and followed suit, clearing their throat a few times before speaking again.
"So, this is just going to be a simple box step," they started. "You can watch our feet to begin with, but you shouldn't need to after a bit. Whenever I take a step, just follow along with the matching foot."
Mason watched as Billie moved their right foot back, and followed it forward with his left. He couldn't help but feel that the beam Billie shot at him was completely unwarrented.
"Great! Now follow with the other foot, and we'll turn it into a kind of sidestep at the same time." They brought their other foot back, but moved it out to the side instead of resting with the other. Mason kept silent and watched intently as he did his best to mirror the movements. "Exactly, now we just bring the other foot back in..."
After a few minutes going through the motions, Mason found that he could perform the steps with only a cursory glance at his feet every so often, and he looked up to see Billie looking almost smug.
"You're looking pleased with yourself there," he said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Ha, well, I guess I am a little proud of myself," they chuckled. "It's not a particularly complicated step, but I still never thought I'd be able to teach it to someone else."
Ah, that's right, he had a question about that. "How did you learn this, anyway?" Mason asked. "Dancing doesn't really seem your style."
"I suppose that's true," Billie said, leading him through the steps in time with the music without thought. "Since this ball is an annual thing, and attendance is mandatory for those at the station, I've had to come for the past... oh, four or five years." Mason let his thumb run over Billie's hand as they moved, and gave a small grin at the way their eyes flashed to where their hands met before continuing. "That first year though, it didn't take long for Tina to realize I was spending more time hiding in a corner than on the dance floor, and she couldn't have that. So, she was the one who sort of forced me to learn, ha."
"The bobblehead does seem like she can be - ack!" Mason flinched as Billie pinched his side. The glare they gave him lacked any real substance, but he acquiesced all the same. "Alright, sorry."
"Mmhmm." Billie waited a moment, gaze narrowed, as if to see if he had a smart remark coming. When he didn't, they continued. "Anyway, so Tina was the one who taught me, but this is actually about all I know. I can't do any fancy steps or anything, but to be fair, this is the only time I actually use these moves, so I think it works out okay."
Mason nodded, curiosity sated, and took a moment to look around the room as they danced in their own corner. He could spot Felix almost immediately; he had been a pretty popular dance partner all night, even though he wasn't exactly sticking to the moves Nat had tried to teach him — or maybe because he didn't stick to them. He almost scoffed, holding it in at the last moment; Felix was almost as bad at this as Mason, but he still had people watching like they were jealous of his partners. Nat was on the floor as well, and Mason had to admit, she seemed to fit right in. She had a poise about her that the rest of the team lacked, and she moved gracefully along the floor with light steps alongside her partners, completely at home in the atmosphere.
He saw Ava off to one side, a glass of wine in hand, her own icy eyes searching through the crowd for any possible threats. Agent Vale had been clear that this was supposed to be a low-risk event, because "even Trappers aren't dull-witted enough to try to pull something in the middle of an event this large with so many witnesses," but that didn't mean they should throw caution to the wind entirely. He was relieved to see Ava felt the same way.
"Have you ever done anything like this?" Billie asked, drawing his focus back. "Uh, since being with Unit Bravo, I mean," they quickly amended as soon as his gaze met theirs again, "not, not... before, you know."
"Not really," Mason huffed. "Nat sometimes gets pulled to go to these sorts of things, since she's so good at smooth-talking and knows all the rules. Ava might go along if Nat needs back up, but no, this isn't really my area. Or Felix's, for that matter," he adds with a glance back at the young vampire. Felix was laughing loudly as he swung his partner around the floor, completely abandoning the slower tempo of the song.
"Fair enough," Billie smiled as they watched Felix's partner try to regain their balance.
They continued to dance together, hand in hand, exchanging small touches and making comments on their teammates, until the song slowly drew to an end. As the band played the final notes, Billie came to a stop and took a step back. Mason noted they didn't take their hand out of his, but made no move to do so himself either.
"Do you..." He watched as they glanced away, took a breath, and looked back to him. "Do you want to head outside? It'll be quieter there."
Mason hadn't really been listening to anything other than Billie's voice and heartbeat for a while now, but he wasn't about to say no to both getting away from the crowd and having another chance to put one of those all-consuming blushes on their face.
"Lead the way, sweetheart."
The night air was cooler than he would really like, but Mason wasn't going to complain when it came with the relief of being away from the ritzy hell inside. A speaker had taken the stage after the dancing had puttered out, and apparently she was interesting enough that nobody else had taken the chance to escape to the balcony with them. He'd made sure to catch Ava's eye to let her see them head out and had gotten a brisk nod in return. Well, and a stare that was definitely warning him not to put the detective into any... compromising situations. He grinned at the thought as he folded his arms and leaned against the railing of the balcony, looking at the mountains in the distance; Billie was next to him, staring up at the clear night sky. Billie seemed content for the moment to let the quiet settle around them, and Mason didn't feel the need to break the silence himself, so, for a time, they just existed in each other's presence.
Getting a reaction out of Billie - any kind, really; embarrassed, exasperated, excited - was definitely his favorite way to spend their time together, but truthfully, this right here was a close second. He could feel the rest of the world fade into the background in a way it never did at any other time, his senses only picking up on the feel of the heat from Billie's skin and the sound of their heart thumping its steady rhythm and the faintly sweet scent of their shampoo.
And while Mason didn't understand the how or why of it, he could damn sure appreciate it.
A cool breeze had him watching as Billie pushed their short hair back out of their eyes, drawing their gaze away from the sky for a moment, and that must have been enough for them to break out of their thoughts, because they turned to him and asked, "Do you like stargazing?"
He thought for a second and shrugged. "Not particularly."
Billie just hummed in response and turned back, looking up at the sky again.
"Do you?" He asked in return.
They laughed. "Not particularly."
He raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
"I don't feel especially strongly about the stars," Billie answered, somehow knowing he was asking without even looking. "I don't know them by name or anything, and I would struggle to point out any constellation if you asked, except maybe Orion's Belt. But... they are beautiful, you know?" They kept their eyes trained upward, as if searching for something as they spoke. "I've never been religious or spiritual, but there's a sort of kinship, knowing that you can look up and see the same stars people were seeing thousands of years ago."
They gave a heavy sigh before continuing. "We're too close to the city here to really get to see them, though. Light pollution, and all."
Mason huffed. "Damn shame."
Billie nodded firmly in agreement. "It is. I'd lived in the city for a few years after college before moving back here, and of course you can't see a thing there. It's not a bad life, living in the city, but I don't think I'd ever trade being able to see even just this." They looked at him from the corner of their eye and asked, "You guys said you'd been to Alaska, right? Were you able to see more than this?"
He leaned back from the railing as he thought. "I guess so. I didn't pay much attention at the time. It was so fucking cold, I was trying not to freeze to death."
Billie exhaled sharply in laughter and hummed quietly. "I wish I could see it. If you get far enough away from cities, you're supposed to be able to see all the stars, and the Milky Way, and some other planets, even. I bet it's gorgeous."
"Then why don't you?"
They started and turned to face him fully, their eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"
"Why don't you go?" He repeated. "Make the trip, see the stars. They're not going anywhere."
They huffed quietly. "I can't exactly do something like that now."
"Why not?"
"Well," they started counting on their fingers, "I've got a bounty on my head for one; even if the supernaturals in the area I went to weren't aware of it, they'd be able to smell my battery-powering super blood, for two; and for three, I can't leave Wayhaven, knowing what... what Murphy's actions did." They had to stop and take a moment before they could say Murphy's name, and Mason felt his own eyes narrow at the mention of him. "Mom said that what he did would be attracting all sorts of supernaturals here, right? So how could I leave town for a vacation knowing —"
"And what makes you think you're alone in any part of this?"
Billie paused, three fingers still in mid-count. "I'm sorry?"
"The team is more than capable of handling whatever pops up here," he said, and then, without a second thought, he added, "and I'd go with you, dumbass."
Their mouth was gaping open now. "That's... you, I mean, you don't, you don't have to..."
Add 'eloquent' alongside 'graceful' on the list of Things Billie Isn't, Mason thought as he rolled his eyes.
"We've been over this before, sweetheart."
He watched as Billie picked their jaw back up, and their expression slowly turned from shock to something like awe, though he wasn't quite sure why. Surely it wasn't that weird?
"You don't do things you don't want to do," they said, each word sounding somehow like it was a revelation to them, and suddenly it hit Mason, as well.
He had said those words to Billie before, that he didn't do things he didn't want to do, but he hadn't quite realized what they meant beyond the moment he said them. He didn't do things he doesn't want to do, so he only does things he wants to do. And what he wants to do...
Is be with Billie.
Huh.
He... wants to be around them. He wants to see their eyes light up when they see the stars they've never seen, like the way they've been lighting up recently when they look at him, and more than that, he wants them to see the stars just because they want to.
This was... something. Mason couldn't figure out what this was supposed to mean, if it meant anything at all beyond just wanting to see the stars in Billie's eyes.
Thankfully, Billie never left him lost for long.
They took a step towards him and, taking his hand in theirs, softly asked, "Mason, will you come see the stars with me?"
Well, there was really only one way to answer that.
He entwined their fingers together, closed the gap between them, and after a brief moment to be sure they were okay with it, pressed his lips firmly over theirs. He wrapped his other arm around Billie's back as they eagerly responded, pulling them tightly against him so he could feel every inch of them as he desperately deepened the kiss. He felt their hand come up to bury itself in his hair and a groan escaped him as they gently grabbed hold.
He was so full of... something, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He wanted Billie, he wanted to be with them, around them, in them, he wanted to see their blush spread from their ears to their cheeks to their neck, he wanted to see them laughing, he wanted to see them crying out his name in pleasure, he wanted to see them happy; he wanted them, but he didn't know how to convey that. Not yet, anyway. So right now he would have to settle for what he did know, and what he knew was exactly how to push Billie's buttons until they were a sobbing mess.
He turned them around so his back was facing the entrance to the ballroom and Billie was against the railing, obscured from the view of any possible onlookers, as he slowly traced his hand along their suit from their back to their chest, dipping beneath the jacket to feel their nipple hardening through their shirt.
Billie had to break away from the kiss with a moan that was desperately trying not to become a whimper. "This is..."
"Do you want to stop?" Mason whispered. He watched as their eyes flickered behind him, and he extended his senses past just Billie. "That speaker is still going on, nobody's gonna come see. And there's no one below the balcony, either," he added. He spoke so closely to their lips that every word was nearly a kiss itself. "I'll stop before anyone would ever know. Trust me on that."
He watched their pupils dilate until there was only a sliver of blue left, and as soon as they nodded and he heard, "Go ahead," he crushed their lips together again and finally released Billie's other hand so he could use his to start unbuttoning their jacket and shirt. Both of Billie's hands were now finding purchase in his hair, and fuck, he had never had a thing for hair pulling before, but they were making a strong case for it at the moment.
With the jacket and shirt open, Mason let one hand come up to cup and knead a breast through their bra as his other traced the zipper on their pants. He did his best to swallow every moan Billie let out, and his best was damn good; he always wanted to hear the noises they made, but he wouldn't get to hear many more of them if he let someone overhear what they were doing out here, which was drastically more important.
He had planned to drag it out, let them feel every click of the zipper as it worked down the teeth as he worked over their mouth and breast, but Billie was as excited as he was. They brought one hand down from his head and grabbed the hand on their zipper, forcing it down all the way, and instead of returning that hand to its new home, they let it roam his chest, giving his nipple the same treatment. He tried to hold in a shiver and failed miserably, and the resulting grin he could feel breaking their kiss had him smirking in return.
"In a hurry, sweetheart? I thought you trusted me. I'm hurt," he teased, giving their breast a good squeeze before moving to the other.
"Oh, come off it." Their breathing was getting ragged, and they were having trouble focusing on his eyes, they were so worked up.
"That's the plan." Aha! There was that flush he liked so much, right at the ears. If he could keep it up, he would definitely be able to see it spread. "Do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?" He whispered, slipping his fingers under their underwear just enough to feel the soft curls there and running them along their sensitive skin. "Do you want to feel my fingers inside you?"
A whine escaped Billie as they tried their best to stay quiet without the aid of Mason's tongue, one hand still grasping his hair, the other clenched in his shirt.
Mason pulled their bra down so it sat under their breasts, pushing them up and letting the cool night air brush over both now-hard nipples before letting one hand return to cup them again and rolling a nub between thumb and forefinger. He let his breath ghost over their cheeks as he pushed just a little closer to where he knew they wanted him most right now. "I can smell it, you know. I can smell how wet you are, without even having actually touched you there. Do you know how good it is? How hard it gets me, to know how much you want it?"
"Mason, please, I - I need -"
"What is it? What do you need?" He traced the edge of their jaw with his tongue, delighting in the shiver they felt as the air cooled the line he left.
"I need you, please, Mason, just - mmph!"
He silenced their pleas with a kiss as he gave in. As much as he loved the teasing, they really didn't have a lot of time to play. He dipped his fingers between their folds, feeling how truly wet they were, slicking them up before slowly sliding one digit in. The sob of relief against his lips, the way their hips twitched forward with every circle of his thumb over their clit, the way he could feel every beat of their heart as if it were his own; fuck, he never got tired of this, could never get tired of this. Nothing else, no one else would ever compare.
He slid in another finger and curled them just so, committing the feel of every sound they made in his mouth to memory, squeezing their breast firmly and speeding up his hand. "Come on, sweetheart," He mumbled against their mouth, "Come on, Billie, come for me, right here." They cried into him again and he quickly ran his arm around their back to pull them closer as they came, clenching around his fingers and pulling his hair taut. He slowed his fingers, but never stopped their caress until he felt their hand thump gently against his chest; pulling his hand back out, he leaned back just far enough to see Billie's face, red and panting and eyes half closed with sudden exhaustion, but smiling wide all the same.
That same tightness in his chest hit him again at the sight, and rather than question it, he raised his hand to his mouth and started cleaning his fingers with his tongue, locking his grey eyes on blue. They shivered and let out a quiet curse as they watched, enraptured, their own tongue peeking out to lick their lips as he finished.
"What — " they had to clear their throat before trying again, and Mason couldn't help but be proud of the mess he'd made as they redid their clothing. "What about you?"
He took another moment to listen out. People were starting to move around slowly, but he couldn't hear the speaker, so she must have just wrapped up. "Sounds like we don't have time for that now," he said. He smirked at the frown that appeared in response and stepped aside to lean against the railing again as he waited for his own arousal to fade. "Disappointed?"
"Kinda," Billie admitted, turning their face out over the balcony, letting the night air cool the heat in their cheeks.
Mason knocked his shoulder against theirs. "Don't worry about it. Let me come by after you head home, and you can show me all the stars you want."
He got a scoff and a shove for his trouble, but Billie also grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers before looking back up at the sky, so it was worth it.
#the wayhaven chronicles#twc#twc fic#sea's OCs#let's see if not adding the ao3 link will let it into the tag#IT FUCKEN WORKED WE DID IT LADS#don't mind me i'm dumb and only just now figured out how tumblr works#twc m
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The Angel’s Share, pt 1
So, a few days ago I asked @hopelessromanticspoonie if she wanted to collab with me on a romcom with AU Thomas Sharpe, and for reasons unknown to me, she said yes!!!
So we present: The Angel’s Share.
Katherine Adams has exactly three fucks to give. One for the bar she manages, one for her patrons, many of whom have become friends, and one for her mum, who single-handedly raised her in London. She certainly hasn't got any left over for tall drink of water Sir Thomas Sharpe, who'd like her to sell his estate distilled whiskey in her popular Soho bar. She's tasted his type before, born with a silver spoon in his mouth with no concept of hardship or graft. But like his whiskey, Thomas has a distinct, unforgettable taste. One experimental sip might not be enough.
****
NB: “the angel’s share” refers to the amount of whiskey that is lost in evaporation whilst the spirit is aged in barrels.
“Sir Thomas Sharpe was found dead today, not, as one would expect from lesser nobility, from an overindulgence in alcohol, but rather face down in a copper still, drowned in his own, admitted excellent, single estate whiskey.”
“For God’s sake!” Lucille called from the chesterfield she lay on, reading. “Would you stop inventing your own obituaries? It’s disturbing.”
Thomas lined up a dart with the dartboard in the study and closed one eye, aimed again, then let the dart fly. It hit the bulls’ eye. “What else am I supposed to do? It’s hard to be an eccentric baronet without actually doing anything eccentric, you know.”
His sister rolled her eyes, the gesture almost audible even as he couldn’t see it.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Thomas said without heat, without turning around. “What do you suggest I do, sister dear?”
Lucille sat up, her tumble of raven hair laying over her slim shoulders. “Perhaps you could actually, you know. Sell your whiskey in this time zone.”
Thomas’ shoulders squared, then slumped. Ever since he’d returned from visiting famed and well-heeled drinking establishments all over the US and South America, successfully selling them crates of his whiskey, Crimson Peak, to stock, Lucille had been harping on about him selling Crimson Peak in the UK.
And he would. It had been a hit overseas, so drinkers here would like it.
Probably.
But there was something about trying to sell his whiskey here, where most of the other minor nobility and all of the media, knew his father had been a wastrel and an alcoholic.
The whiskey was a way to try and redeem his family name. The irony of the fact he was using alcohol to wipe clean the slate of a dead alcoholic wasn’t lost on Thomas.
But it was one thing to sell your whiskey abroad. That was fine. That was easy. He wasn’t Sir Thomas Sharpe, one of the country’s youngest baronets, when he was in America. He was just a British businessman.
It was easier.
It was safer not to risk running into one of his old Cambridge friends. Or to rub shoulders with other minor nobility who might’ve run in the same circles as dear old Dad.
Dear old cheating, alcoholic dad.
Dead, now.
Thomas swallowed the sour taste in his mouth, the bitter flavour that thoughts of his late father always brought on.
The bitter knowledge that he still cared about a dead man’s opinion.
“I think I’d rather be found dead from falling off a horse playing Polo,” he mused out loud. “Less whiskey wasted, that way.”
Lucille stomped out of the room with a huff.
He let her go. She’d taken their father’s death a few years ago harder than he had. She had been a Daddy’s girl; saved from most of his wrath. Thomas hadn’t been so lucky. He hadn’t wanted to burden Lucille with the truth then and he probably wouldn’t now.
He threw another dart, but his aim was off, his mind elsewhere. Tucking the remaining darts in his shirt pocket, Thomas rolled up his sleeves and then tried again. He saw himself reflected in the big mirror over the mantlepiece, his tumble of raven’s wing hair askew, his jaw scruffy with a couple of days of whiskers. He’d inherited his father’s sharp, angular features and height, and his mother’s clear, agate blue eyes.
Lining up the dart, he studied the board. Tried to focus.
He hadn’t played properly in ages, needed a traditional pub with a pub board for that, really. He missed some of the watering holes he’d frequented in his younger years in London.
“Still sulking?” Lucille asked as she re-entered the room. Their study was large and airy; the floor to ceiling windows looking out on to the avenue of proud, arching oak trees that led up to the sprawling country pile they called home.
Thomas still felt more at ease in the bustle and lights of London, having attended boarding school there prior to his undergraduate years at Cambridge. He’d returned to London for a few years after University, too. The heady, constant pulse of the city called to him, the layers of history and culture and diversity all layered in stone and trees and museums and the rush of the underground.
London had been a brilliant place to waste five years of his life avoiding his cruel, overbearing father and his duty to his family name.
When he had finally surfaced from half a decade of debauchery, he’d known it was time to do something. He hadn’t known at the time that distilling his own whiskey would be how he’d make his mark on the world.
“I believe it’s called brooding when a man of a certain age and status does it,” he drawled in reply.
Lucille scoffed and shoved a folder at him. “I’ve been wondering when the time was right to give you this. I think it’s now.”
Thomas turned to her and took it. The slim folder was embossed with gold leaf, elegant and understated. The red script on the front read simply Crimson Peak.
“What is this?” he asked slowly.
“Your grand re-entry into the London whiskey world,” Lucille said innocently, her beautiful features, matching his own in creamy complexion, adopting the expression too easily for one so mischievous.
Thomas knew better. Lucille was rarely genuinely innocent.
“What did you do.” He heard the sharp edge to his own voice. His words hadn’t been a question.
“I did what you clearly haven’t got the balls to, brother. I planned a launch event, meitculously, I might add, and invited representatives from the best twenty drinking establishments in London.”
Thomas shook his head, opening the folder and scanning the contents. “This is.. Tomorrow night, Lucille. How long have you been planning this?”
“A few weeks. At most.” Se managed to maintain a straight face as she spoke.
“And were you planning on telling me later than today? It’s tomorrow, for God’s sake.”
She grinned at him as she walked back to the sofa to pick up her book. “I suppose you’d better pack, then.”
Tagging: @nonsensicalobsessions @myoxisbroken @amarisyousei
Please ask to be added to the tags for updates!
#thomas sharpe x ofc#collab fic#sir thomas sharpe#crimson peak fic#no incest#imagine sir thomas sharpe#imagine tom hiddleston
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An Ascians Memories
A FFXIV fanfiction - One shot
Pairing: Wol/wod x Emet-Selch
Rated: PG-17 [for safety]
WoL/Wod is NB with female leaning [you/yours/etc]
Word Count: 2107
Summary: Emet is reminiscing about past lives of yours.
He watched you from afar, scurrying to and fro. Doing this and that for the citizens of the Crystarium. You had been ordered to rest by your companions, ‘Fighting Fit” was just a phrase he had used to describe you. He could clearly see the fractures in your beautiful soul. It pained him more than anything in the various shards. Your soul burned brighter after every cataclysm that they had caused, more whole than the other pale souls next to you. Beautiful and glowing, your light continually washed over him when he stood in your presence. Making him wish more and more to steal you away from your fate as a hero. To dote upon you to hold you close and hide you away from both Zodiark and the dreaded Hydalen. No more fighting, no more pain; no more fractures upon your soul.
Emet-selch shifted as you ran under his hiding spot to another person. Sweat clear upon your brow when usually there would be none. He squinted, his heart aching, the final act was drawing close. What he would wish to pull you into his arms and kiss you - rejoining be damned.
Pain shot from the back of his skull as he thought those words, shifting he rubbed it.
“And what if it comes into fruition! What if you bring about the grand rejoining and my soul is no more? That you cannot bring it back! Or that you sacrifice it?!”
“I will not. Zodiark will bring them back, we just have to create an appropriate sacrifice.”
Groaning he pressed his head against the cool stone of the building. That's right, everything will be right if he follows the original plan. Even your fractured soul will be healed, he had to believe in it otherwise everything would come crumbling down. His very soul would be overwhelmed if he did not believe. With the pain throbbing in his head he gazed back down at you, bent over in an alleyway trying to catch your breath. Emet knew he could easily port down there, wrap his arms around you and whisk you back away to his room. To force you to rest until you had gained back some semblance of your strength. But he knew it was futile, the plan was falling into place and he must play his part. And he knew his part had nothing to do with holding you close.
Leaning his head back he closed his eyes. There was a time of course that he would have done just that; forget his plan, forget the countless eyes upon him, he would steal away into your chambers for a passionate kiss. For a night of pressing his body to yours, of whispered promises and hopes. It had perhaps only been about one hundred years since the last time that the two of you had been together in such an embrace. He had possessed a child; grown and lived a life of a human. The life of Solus zos Glavus. A smile stretched across his face as he remembered.
Meeting you in the military academy, your eyes bright, your soul even brighter. Instantly he had assigned you as his personal guard. It of course had been the first lifetime in many years that he had been in a position of power while you had not. Why in the Allagan empire you had been his empress, and even later a fellow lord which he threw himself upon in times of trouble. Your arms had ever been accepting; but that lifetime as Solus had been truly special. Duty bound him, and duty bound you, but it never stopped you from sneaking him out of the castle at his request to have a picnic in the hills. To stay by his side during a battle and easily strike down anyone that had gotten close to him. You, instead of he, had set about the courting process. Emet-selch had founding amusing at first, but then found that he loved it. He loved being in your arms after a long day, your soft whispers in his ear telling him it was alright. That he could not please everyone, that even his family had no right to question his methods. You had been devoted to him, to the point that if it were not for status he would have wed you right away. No, instead his family wed him to a woman of pedigree, whom he had bed with disdain. After the act he would always steal away to the room that the two of you shared. Emet had even gone as far as to name you his consort. The people did not care; it was not as if the two of you could have children.
No, in that lifetime you had been male after all. The people found it romantic, you would not be mentioned in any history books as the royalty and lords did not like you, but the commoners would remember your heroic tales.
In fact, thinking of such things reminded him of one specific memory…
------
It was a battlefield; together the two of you where in the Emperor's tent, and Solus was tending to your wounds.
“Such a foolish act, what if you had been killed Gyrus?” The Emporer chided you as you laughed, wincing as the man pull tight a bandage on your back.
“But I am fine my love!” You teased leaning back to peck him on the cheek. For a Garlean you always found the emperor to be comically small. He scoffed and slapped your wound, causing you to cry out, then devolve into a chuckle. Watching him pout as he washed his bloodied hands in a bowl of fresh water. “Solus,” You murmured as you watched his shoulders slump. “Solus I am fine, my dear Emperor, please I beg of you turn to face me.” Standing you suppressed a gasp of pain that shot through your shoulder; you had thrown yourself in a way of an assassin that had snuck behind your battlements. You had of course been prepared for such an attack by the enemy. Regardless of what you had not anticipated was that they had company. Reaching out you wrapped your arms around Solus, who leaned back into your embrace with comfortable ease.
“Gyrus you fool.” He grumbled in your arms. Was he, crying? You frowned and pushed back his greying hair. No, his golden eyes stared at you with frustrated intensity. Leaning down you pressed a kiss against his third eye. The Emperor shivered and twisted in your grasp until he could plant a firm kiss upon your lips. Sighing you leaned back and pressed your forehead against his. Your third eyes gently rubbing against each other.
“A fool for you,” You teased, your voice breathy. Another stolen kiss; your bodies pressed up against one another in unfulfilled passion.
Suddenly a cough came from the entrance of the tent. Solus pulled back from you reluctantly and called out to them. It was a messenger to tell the two of them of the battle ahead of them…
----
A bird landing next to Emet shocked him out of his memories, then he heard someone call his name; there was only one person that would actively call out to him. Turning he expected your face, instead he found one of the twins, the female. He frowned, but teleported from his resting place to an area in front of her. He glared down at her. “Yes?” He asked folding his arms before him as the young girl clenched her fists as she stared at him. The Ascian knew what she wanted to ask; her face showed it. Turning away he frowned. “If I knew how to properly deal with that overwhelming amount of Light I would have told you all already.” He waved his hand at her, answering Alisaes question before she even had a chance to ask. Tears brimmed in her eyes before she turned on her heel without a second word and stormed off. He couldn't help but frown at her retreating figure, when had she been told about your condition? He had thought that the woman Y’sthola was trying to keep it a secret from them. When she vanished from his view he turned away raising his hand to his chest he gazed down at the floor. His chest burned; regret. Emet-selch knew a few tricks to mitigate the light, but that girl knew he would not share them. He also knew he could not aid them in such a way. Clenching the cloth at his breast he felt a torrent of emotional pain; tears threatening to form in his eyes.
You had been Gyrus just a mere one hundred years ago, before that? Ellana, and even further than that Inomina - he could name every single one of your reincarnations. Each one special in his heart. But Emet cast his mind further back even still, back to when your true home had still stood. Before the final days. When the two of you walked the pale streets, studied various methods of creations… had weaved your magics together to create life. Pulling himself back into the darkness he found himself once again perched high up in the buildings. Even though he fought back tears he found himself blushing at the memory. Your magics had been strong, but even though you two had always tried to weave new creations you always fell in each others arms.
Every lifetime he thought. In every lifetime the two of you had easily fallen into each other's arms. Passionate kisses, touches, and bodies often pressed against one another. Instead, in this lifetime, perhaps the final one you two stayed away from each other. Perhaps, he thought, it was best this way.
Best for you not to become attached to him. For him to be the tag along, the plus one to your merry band of Scions. Sure, you two had stolen kisses and touches from each other in this lifetime. But compared to the others it was minor. You would not be too affected when the time came. If he won, he would cradle your body until you passed into the final Lightwarden. In fact he would stay with you until the moment this shard was no more. Perhaps even then he would find a way to steal your soul and hold onto it until he could find a way to make you reincarnate. But, if you won he would perhaps ask you to kiss him one last time. Perhaps he would touch your face as his body disappeared.
Wincing once more at the pain in the back of his skull he sighed. He could not lose of course, for the sake of the thousands of dead. He could not have the fleeting whimsy of wanting to love you when his goal was so close. Emet knew he would have to succeed if he wanted to bring you back. He had too. Gazing down he found that you were gazing up at him, sweat clinging to your beautiful face. Emet sat up quickly as he noted that there were more fractures in your soul. Your eyes strained with pain and without a second thought he willed himself from his seat to before you.
You smiled weakly as he appeared in a cloud of darkness before you. His face surprisingly wild, his golden eyes searching yours. “Ah, I saw you up there and was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat?” You asked. Sure, the deal with the Greatwood warden had hurt you more than you had wished to admit. Everyone was starting to see that it was affecting you, but true to your word you did not want them to worry. Your smile vanished as you felt his arms grab you and pull you into him. His hands digging into your clothing. You raised your hands to hug him back. “Emet, what is wrong?”
“Nothing hero.” He responded quickly pulling away and producing a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the sweat on your brow. “Do you have a place in mind you wish to try?” Emet asked sticking the damp handkerchief back in his pocket.
“Oh yes!” You exclaimed with forced energy. Throwing your arm around his you pulled it close to your chest and grinned. “There is this place up the way that sells delightful sandwiches. I wanted to and the little Oracle but they already ran off somewhere!” Pouting you tugged his arm. He sighed dramatically and allowed you to pull him along.
Perhaps, The Ascian thought. Just a little longer…
#ffxiv#ffxiv fanfiction#ffxiv fanfic#solus zos galvus#solus x wol#solus zos glavus x wol#emet-selch#emetxwol#Remember Me [emetxwol]#wolxemet-selch#emet selch x wol#emet selch x reader#not my best but i want to try to understand like#temperment#from Emets pov#shb spoilers
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0108. Le cygne.
Friday, 12 February 2015
FIC PAGE | CHAPTER SYMPHONY | WORD COUNT: 5.7k
NB: explicit language, alcohol, harry being a dream and a half
“Blimey,” Teresa mumbled before biting into her green apple. “I do want to kill Thursdays sometimes.”
They were on their 15-minute break in their three-hour Composing I seminar, neither of them feeling like talking. Once the break started, they could almost sense when the other one did not want to interact or talk, so if that was the case then the girls would keep quiet. Today had kind of been like that, Y/N sitting on her phone while Teresa jut ate her apple and stared off into nothing. When her friend spoke, Y/N almost jumped a little, yawning as she tore her eyes away from her phone to look over at Teresa.
“And why’s that?”
“Because they’re so bloody boring. Could keep myself entertained by sorting my entire life out instead of attending this seminar.”
Y/N scoffed and Teresa raised her eyebrows.
“What? You think I’m joking?”
“No, just think you have one hell of a task ahead of you.”
Teresa laughed, opening her laptop on her desk again and looking up something on Google. Y/N turned back to her phone and stopped immediately. A new mail. Response to her application to a job. With her heart beating wildly in her chest, Y/N opened the mail, sure Teresa could tell the difference in her body language. Shoulders high with tension, breathing heavier, and eyes wide open; it was hard not to notice something was up. But if Teresa noticed a change in Y/N, she didn’t say anything. However, Y/N herself was way too busy opening her mail to notice anything but the lit up phone screen in front of her.
Dear Miss Picot,
We are sorry to inform you…
Y/N didn’t read the rest. It was enough to read the three first words to know what the rest of the mail involved. She excited the mail app and closed her phone, putting it down on the desk and staring at it for a little while. This was one of the countless times she had been declined even a job interview, and she didn’t even want to think about the number if you added the failed job interviews on top of that. She felt like she would never get one, no matter how hard she tried. Every time she got declined it was like yet another blow to the stomach. It never failed to ruin her day. Though she was fully aware that she would probably get a job one day, she needed one now. She needed money because she couldn’t keep asking her parents for it and her loan would never be big enough to cover all her living expenses. So, Y/N resulted to staring at her phone and thinking about how much her life truly sucked. Yet again she had hit the lowest of low. Fantastic. How was she ever supposed to stop doubting herself when something as minor as this made her question her whole existence? How was she supposed to live a normal life when her anxiety treated her like this? Y/N ran two frustrated hands through her hair, sighing lowly to herself.
“What’s up?” Teresa asked, catching onto Y/N’s foul mood.
“Just…” She sighed. “Didn’t get a job interview.”
“It’s just one job interview, there will be plenty more in the future.” Teresa reassured Y/N, biting into her apple.
“I know,” Y/N said. “But I… I have applied to so many and some don’t get back to me, some do but don’t offer me a job interview, some do give me an interview, but never a proper chance.” Y/N groaned, getting her laptop out of her rucksack so she could entertain herself with something online for the remainder of the seminar. “I’m so sick and tired of never being good enough.”
“Okay, shut up.” Teresa frowned, throwing her apple into the bin not too far away from their two desks. “Because you are good enough.”
“But-“
“-It takes time getting a job. In all my life I’ve lived in London, and I’ve only had one job because it’s bloody impossible to get one, Y/N.” Teresa explained. “Everything will come in due time, even though it might not seem that way now.”
“It certainly does not.”
Teresa smiled, shaking her head a little. “Ever thought about performing?”
Y/N looked over at her friend, furrowing her brows a little. “What do you mean?”
“Well, the uni helps music students find places to perform so they can get their music out there.” Teresa explained. “You haven’t heard of this?”
Y/N shook her head.
“Basically, go talk to one of the student representatives for Music, and they’ll tell you everything.”
“Have you talked to them about this?” Y/N asked.
“No, but I paid attention during our first week here.” Teresa explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Unlike someone else.”
Y/N giggled. “What do you know about this performing thing?”
“There are tons of bars and pubs in London, yea? They help talk to some so you can perform and if their customers like you, they’ll end up paying you to come in. So, you need to impress on the first try and all that. Which I think is very hard since you’re in London and there are loads of other performers out there.” Teresa said, twirling a curl around her index finger. “Thought about asking them or help myself, to be honest, I just don’t even know what songs I would choose or how I would perform.”
Y/N nodded, logging onto Canvas. She looked around the website for a bit before she noticed the silence stretching out between them. Looking over at Teresa, she noticed her friend sitting there with wide eyes and an expression on her face that told Y/N she had an idea. Teresa blinked a few times as she came back down to earth, but slowly a smile crept up on her lips.
“Y/N.”
“Resa.”
“We should perform together.”
Y/N stopped for a little bit to let the idea sink in. Teresa’s voice when she sang reminded Y/N of silk; it was soft and elegant and one wouldn’t mind wearing it all day long. So for someone so talented to even be suggesting that the two of them join up and perform around London together was such an honour that Y/N felt a little taken aback. Teresa looked hopeful, eyes wide as she watched Y/N think about the idea she’d just had. Y/N only stared at her friend, so Teresa opened her mouth.
“You play the violin, I sing. We make a duo.”
Y/N turned toward Teresa.
“We could play whatever we wanted to, and wherever we’d go in London we’d be us two.” Teresa smiled. “We’ll have so much fun, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled a little back. “How often would we perform?”
“As often as we got offers and opportunities, I suppose.” Teresa said. “As often as we have time and feel like it. It will be hard, but I have no doubt we’re going to make it work somehow. We just need to push through the hard time of getting semi recognised and places to work regularly.”
Y/N, for some odd reason, had never thought about this. The thought of performing at all had never entered her mind, performing with Teresa – someone she knew had an amazing voice and a passion for music to match her own – had never been up for debate because she didn’t know if she would ever be worthy. As the two friends looked at each other, thinking about what had just been suggested and all the different ways it could all work out, it dawned on them just how good of an idea this was. Teresa’s voice fit all kinds of music, but she was extraordinary when singing country or indie songs, which would most likely be the genre they’d play in. And Y/N could play just about anything on her violin if she just got some time to practice it beforehand. All of this went through both of their heads as they thought about all of this, and Teresa suddenly reached over and took Y/N’s hand, smiling widely.
“Y/N,” she said, voice soft. “This could be so good, don’t you reckon?”
“Yes.”
The reply left her lips before she even registered them, but it was true. It would be good. This was the best idea they had ever had. And it would be good. So good. Y/N turned her hand and entwined her fingers with Teresa’s, squeezing her friend’s hand as she returned a smile.
“Yes. It really could.”
Teresa smiled so big crinkles formed by the sides of her eyes. “Oh, my God.”
“I know.” Y/N tried not to clap her hands together and scream with joy at what they had just agreed on doing. “I know!”
Teresa squealed, making sure that the professor didn’t see her having a freak out at the back of the seminar room. Quickly, Teresa threw both her arms around Y/N, and the two friends hugged each other so tight it was like they melted into one. Y/N had never seen someone be this excited about something as she was before, the only exception being when Annie agreed to move in with her and Tiana, but this was something completely different. This was something Y/N had been struggling with for months now. They pulled apart and Teresa turned to her laptop and started typing away at a Word document.
“I’ll make a list of some pop, country and indie songs that could work with violin.”
And the rest of the seminar went to just that. Teresa would poke Y/N every now and then to ask her opinion on a song or to show her one, and Teresa added them all to the list as Y/N was too afraid to hurt Teresa’s feelings by saying she didn’t like a particular one. They walked out at the end of the seminar together, agreeing on a time to meet up and start planning and searching. They needed a meeting with the head of the Arts department at Battersea so they could ask all the questions they had and to make sure they were doing everything right. Y/N was listening to something Teresa was saying, completely emerging herself in the conversation, when she heard her name being uttered. She stopped, looking over her shoulder exactly as she had done some weeks prior, and found Harry standing by the wall. Arm crossed and his glasses on, he looked absolutely amazing. Y/N refrained from taking his outfit and body in, because every time she did she ended up staring and licking away drool at the edge of her mouth.
“Y/N.” He repeated, walking over to her.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Teresa said, giving Y/N a wink before she turned around and walked off.
Y/N bit her lip, seeing Harry make his way over to her made her heart leap out of her chest and every cell in her body dance with anticipation. It was so exciting being close to him, she never knew what to expect or how to react and act around him. She felt comfortable in his presence, but at the same time, every single time they had been together, he had pushed her out of her comfort zone in some way. She never knew what to expect from him.
“Harry.” She said, as if feeling him in the air around her made her body say his name and not her mouth.
“Haven’t seen you in five days.” He frowned a little, arms at his sides and a frown etched into his forehead. “You avoiding me?”
Now it was Y/N’s turn to frown, as if she didn’t know exactly what he was talking about. There had been a slight tinge of embarrassment in her after the incident in the bathroom stall at The Grand, and she hated that she felt that way. She hated that she had wanted to when the Y/N she knew would never have done anything of the sort. It was as if someone else had taken control of her body in those few minutes it was all going on. Not that she regretted it, because she did not, but she was still well embarrassed. What of Harry had thought it hilarious? What if he gone and told it to his mates right away after? The last thing she wanted was to push Harry away, but she also knew that he could, after all of that and everything before, stomp all over her heart and break it into a million tiny little pieces if he wanted to. Avoiding him hadn’t been because of anyone but herself… Also because she got very paranoid and she didn’t want to ruin anything by being very awkward afterward.
“No.” Y/N replied, running a hand through her hair.
Harry raised his eyebrows. Y/N raised hers back.
“Well, if you are then I want you to know what happened last Friday was not a mistake.” Harry said, cutting straight to the point as he usually did when Y/N wouldn’t. “And you don’t have to tread lightly around me because that’s the last thing I want you to do.”
Y/N drew in a breath. Harry’s stare was intense, not the extreme kind that made her wish to disappear into thin air, but the kind that made her understand he was paying attention to her. With every slight movement, every breath, every blink and utterance, he was giving her all his attention. The glance told her that he truly cared, he truly wanted to know what was bothering her so much that she had gone out of her way to not see him this last week. Even though the paranoid side of her told her there was more to him acting this way, Y/N knew Harry. A decent human being who wouldn’t talk shit about her to his mates.
“I-I just thought…” Y/N trailed off, swallowing a lump in her throat she didn’t know how had appeared there. “Since we didn’t talk since… that you might… might-“
“-Regret it?”
Y/N looked up at him, biting her lower lip before nodding twice.
“Darling,” he smiled a little. “Only thing I’d regret if we had come to that, you getting off on my thigh, and someone walked in looking for you, would be if I didn’t help you finish.”
It was suddenly very hard to breathe, and Y/N hated how her eyes fell to his lips for a split second before they met Harry’s again. Whenever he was close to her, all she wanted to do was take him in; all angles, features, and spoken words. Looking at him both calmed her down and sent her heart racing. He noticed Y/N staring at his lips for a few, giving her a little smile as he did the same. But the smile quickly vanished, and he suddenly grew very serious.
“You left.” He suddenly said. Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You promised not to avoid me once we came down from the loos, and you… just left.”
She nodded, fully aware of what she had done and the fact that Harry most likely didn’t appreciate it.
“Why-Why did you leave? Looked around the whole club for you.”
“Tiana was ready to.” Y/N explained. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you, it was wrong of me to bolt.”
Harry sighed, looking at the ground between them. “No, it wasn’t. Don’t have to tell me nothing if you don’t want to, we’re not-“ Harry stopped himself, looking into her eyes again. It seemed like he was struggling to find the right word, as if none of the ones he had thought about when he started that sentence fit. Studying her eyes, he lost himself in the memories yet to be created and those that already had been. It was easy to get lost in something you found great interest in. So, when Harry finally found his ability to talk again, he opened his mouth. “Something. I don’t have the right to know everything you’re doing.”
Y/N frowned a little. “I promised not to avoid you and I did. You’re not mad?”
Harry smiled a little. “I’d never be mad. Just sad I didn’t get to spend time with you.” He said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Figured you didn’t leave without an actual reason. That isn’t like you.”
Y/N bit her lip, trying not to giggle.
“Sad, though,” Harry nodded. “That I am.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Harry said. “You’re not avoiding me now, are you?”
Y/N smiled a little. “Still. I’m sorry. I just get awkward, and it’s nothing to do with you and all to do with me.”
Harry grew serious again, taking another step closer to her so that she could smell his cologne now. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me, Y/N.”
She only looked at him, a little at loss for words.
“Ever.”
Y/N nodded.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Nod.” He smiled. “It’s cute. Your hair always moves with it and I like your hair.”
Her cheeks flared and Y/N felt the need to turn her back to Harry so he wouldn’t see just how flustered he got her. By this point it was impossible for him not to know the exact effect he had on her. It was so pathetic, Y/N thought, how little he had to do or say for her to melt into him. There wasn’t a chance in hell of him not knowing the exact way she felt about him. The way she looked at him and acted around him must be enough of an indicator in itself.
“Have to leave.” Harry said suddenly. “Heading to Euston.”
Y/N frowned again as she watched Harry button up his coat, wondering what he was going to be doing at London Euston.
“Going home for a few days.”
Y/N blinked. “To Manchester?”
“Yea.” Harry wrapped a blue scarf around his neck, tucking it into his coat. “Dad needs me.”
Y/N bit her lips together, not wanting to pry.
“But worry not,” he grinned now, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back for you, darling. See you in a week.”
And just like that, Harry walked off, leaving Y/N to look at his back as he disappeared from view. It was then that Y/N realised she knew next to nothing about Harry’s family. The only thing he had told her one time was that he was from Manchester, that he had lived in the city all his life and barely left it because of his father’s business and his mother’s job. But Manchester was a 3-hour and £80 train ride from London Euston, which only made Y/N wonder why Harry had decided to go to a uni so far from home. There could well be absolutely no other reason behind it other than the fact that he simply wanted to move out of Manchester for four years, but she couldn’t help herself from asking that question over and over in her head. Why did he want to go to a uni so far from Manchester and his home? Everyone else Y/N knew at Battersea were from the South, Harry was the only one from the North.
It didn’t take long for Y/N to get back to Westbridge Halls. With the hood of her raincoat over her head and earbuds playing soft Brahms, Y/N felt content on her way home. She changed into dry loungewear and felt herself relax into the safeness of flat 34. Getting her tea mug from her desk, she walked out of her room and to the kitchen to make herself a cuppa and some food. Today had been a roller coaster and she was starving. As she entered the kitchen, Y/N saw Annie standing by the fridge, looking into it. Giving her a smile, Y/N quickly stopped on her way over to the kettle when she saw Annie’s red eyes. Tears stained her cheeks and her chest moved with sobs wanting to escape.
Their eyes met and Annie froze, so did Y/N. Both girls were so shocked to see the other that the whole situation made both stop functioning for a little while. Thought Y/N rarely spoke unless spoken to, she knew not speaking now would be the worst possible option.
“Annie-“
“-I’m fine.” Annie interrupted, giving Y/N an unconvincing smile. “I’m fine, Y/N.”
Then she hurried off, out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. Once again Y/N was left staring after someone, wondering what was going on. She held on tightly to her mug, fearing it might break, because seeing Annie that upset without knowing what was plaguing her did not sit right with Y/N. But never would she force anything out of Annie either. As she made her cuppa and dinner, Y/N stood thinking about Annie and how she, as her friend, didn’t know how to help properly.
Friday, 20 February 2015
Hating every single academic piece you wrote when at uni was a disease most students suffered from. Typing one word into your document every five minutes and then giving up once a full sentence was finally formed was the way most essays were born and formed. Y/N sat in her room doing exactly that one late February Friday, looking at her laptop screen and praying to God this essay would somehow end up writing itself. It was raining outside, soft pattering sounded against Y/N’s window and quiet music from her speaker. She was trying to calm herself down enough so once she got going on her essay, it would flow easily. But it didn’t seem to be working. All she could think about was how little she wanted to be writing her essay, and how much more she’d like to sit in the kitchen with the others.
As of on que, the doorbell rang and Y/N heard Finn run to let someone in. Flat 8 of Cotton Row walked in and Finn was singing along to the song playing from inside the kitchen, clapping his hands and hyping everyone up. Y/N couldn’t hear anyone talking except for those that already were in the kitchen. She wouldn’t even try to hide the fact that she was listening out for Harry’s voice amongst the chaos of the pre-drinks. The door into the kitchen closed and Y/N looked back at her Word document, groaning to herself.
The two flats were going to a house party in Balham, and Becky thought it would be a brilliant idea to have pres together then. Finn obviously loved this idea and texted the groupchat he had with Wade, Harry and Sai right away. Sai had undoubtably arrived with flat 8, and everyone were now hanging out in the kitchen getting drunk together. Though Y/N knew she probably would have stayed in instead of going to the house party anyway, it would have been nice to have the option. Now, with her 2000-word essay, she had to stay back. Before going to university, she had made a promise with herself to prioritise uni over everything, and she had therefore informed her flat she wouldn’t be coming along. They had understood, and Spencer promised he’d try and make everyone keep the volume down for her.
Y/N sat upright in her chair, sighing heavily and running both hands through her hair before putting it in a loose bun at the top of her head. Rolling her shoulders, she reached her hands out toward the laptop and started typing. Once she saw herself done with a paragraph, she sat back and read through it, feeling proud for finally having been able to write something. That feeling of euphoria soon vanished when she read through what she had written and felt everything inside her turn when she cringed. Groaning once again, Y/N deleted the whole paragraph and started over again.
She didn’t know how long she sat there for, writing and deleting and moaning and revaluating every life decision that had led to this moment. Rubbing her hands over her face, running both her hands over her eyelids to wake herself up, Y/N tried to concentrate once again. Her fingers pressed letters into words and words into sentences. Though she was unsure if it made any sense at all, she didn’t much care by this point. To put her mind someplace else, Y/N stopped the music coming from her speaker and got her violin out. Closing her eyes, she played a piece she knew by heart.
Le Cygne, or The Swan, by Camille Saint-Saëns was one of Y/N’s favourite solos to play. Originally a cello solo, Y/N had admired it so much when she had first heard it around the time started playing the violin, so she had figured out a way to play it herself. Ever since then, she had been able to play it without a sheet, and whenever she needed to think about something else for a little while, Y/N would find her violin and play Le Cygne. For three minutes, she lost herself in between musical notes, four strings, and the way the violin felt resting against her skin. Soft music emerged from the connection between her bow and strings, and as Y/N felt her shoulders relax and the tension in her entire body evaporate, the corners of her mouth tipped up.
But a knock at her door made her stop, whipping her head towards it. She hadn’t heard anyone open the kitchen door or the music from the communal area drift into the hallway to indicate anyone walking about. Carefully, Y/N put her violin in its case and walked over to the door. She took a small step back when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. With drunk and glassy eyes, he looked at her with a look of amusement, like he had just seen something he found highly interesting. Clearing her throat, Y/N gripped the handle tighter and shifted the weight of her feet from one to the other.
“Hi.” She said, voice low.
“Can’t you come out?”
Y/N’s heart stopped. Eyes grew wide. Did he know? “W-What?”
Harry laughed. “Your face,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall opposite Y/N’s room. “Jesus, Y/N, I’m only asking you to come into the kitchen.” He cocked his head to the side. “Need you in there.”
She looked over her shoulder and then at Harry. “Need me in there?”
Harry took a step forward. “Uh-huh.”
“Sorry, Harry, I’m doing my essay. Didn’t they tell you?”
He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “They did, but I’m drunk and…” He smiled, blinking slowly as he stared at Y/N. “And you weren’t in the kitchen.”
Y/N didn’t know how it was possible for her to feel all the butterflies in the world all at once at the mere sound of someone’s voice, but Harry somehow managed to make them all appear. Swallowing, Y/N was about to suggest Harry go back to the others when he started talking again.
“Remember in November when I asked if I’d ever hear you play the violin?” Harry asked. “And you said ‘In your dreams’?”
Y/N smiled a little. He remembered that?
“Couldn’t help but to listen to you play while I was having a wee.” Harry pointed towards the loo, grinning. “And you’re bloody brilliant.”
Y/N looked at the floor. “Thank you.”
“Mind playing that piece for me again?”
She looked up at him then, seeing the honesty and need in his eyes when they met. Stepping aside, Y/N let Harry into her room for the second time, watching as he walked over to her bed. He looked around, smiling to himself as he took in the pictures on the board and the fairylights hanging about. Y/N got her throw out and spread it out over her bed so Harry could sit down.
“What piece were you just playing?”
“Le Cygne.”
“Right.”
Y/N looked over at Harry as he sat nodding in her bed. She smiled. “It’s one of my favourite solos. Know it by heart.”
Harry smiled a little at that, watching her take the violin out of its case. “Played it long?”
“Ever since I knew how to play.”
“Can’t wait then.” He placed his hands in his chest and looked up at her eagerly.
Placing the violin to her chin and shoulder, Y/N suddenly felt a little nervous. Harry had never seen her escape into the music. And when it was just the two of them in a room like this, playing him Le Cygne was suddenly very intimate. But she closed her eyes, knowing that if she started overthinking she’d be able to screw up a song she hadn’t done wrong in years. The bow danced over the strings as Y/N started playing. It was easy to forget someone else was in the room with her when she played, but somehow Harry took up more space than she thought he did. Maybe not physically, but she felt the pressure of his presence on her heart, and as she played, it was as if both that pressure and the feeling of floating with the music intensified. She was very aware of Harry as she forgot about the world, because somehow he managed to forget with her.
Y/N felt as if they were both in a boat in the lake by the Picot Farm, that same boat she used to lay in each summer and just read or relax. Harry sat with her in that boat, smiling at her, and the sky behind him and overhead painted a magnificent and radiant colour of pink and orange. The trees were a dark green as they always were, and the world around them quiet, except for Le Cygne playing softly from Y/N’s violin. Harry was glowing slightly, lighting up in the dark afternoon that would soon turn night; like her very own lantern to illuminate against the blackness of the world. Her heart was beating faster now as the solo was coming to an end, and as she lowered her violin from her chin, looking over at Harry on her bed, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he had truly travelled with her through music and space.
He was gaping at her, a softness in his green eyes that it was impossible to conjure up unless it was of the most genuine kind. He just looked at her, unable to properly form words or tell her how he felt. It had been so beautiful, and Y/N had played it flawlessly, and they both knew after this, there was no way they would ever be able to forget about the other ever. Neither knew where they were going, but the whole experience had done something to both of them. Had changed the rhythm of their hearts and coloured their world a little more detailed.
“You…” Harry started, feeling himself incapable to say anything coherent. He swallowed. “You’re so fucking… so…”
Y/N put her violin back in its case, looking over at Harry when he said the next word, “Everything. You’re everything.”
Y/N didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t know if it was meant in a positive way or if she ever would know what he had thought about before uttering it. But Harry’s drunk self had a reason for it, she guessed. She watched him get up from her bed, swallowing as he came to stand right before her. His fingers traced up her bare arm, sending shocks of something resembling electricity throughout her entire body. Squeezing her shoulder, Y/N’s breath hitched, and when Harry’s hand made contact with her neck, she had no idea how much longer she would be able to stand for. Breaths mingling into one and their eyes frantically looking from one to the other to their lips. They hated space, hated the concept of being far apart from one another. That was when Harry’s palm came to rest at Y/N’s cheek, she suddenly felt like fitting the last piece to a puzzle. The whole picture was complete. She saw it clearly now.
She looked down at his forearm at his tattoo, chest swelling with some sort of pride. The bloke she had ended up falling for was a good person. A very good person, and he treated her and everyone with nothing but respect. It was as if she felt like she had done something right for once. She had chosen the right person and felt at peace at the thought of maybe one day loving him, if he let her. Their eyes met again, and Y/N could feel one of Harry’s curls against her forehead.
“Harry!”
Harry closed his eyes, swearing under his breath.
“Mate, are you taking a huge fucking shite?!”
Harry opened his eyes, mouth closed in frustration.
“You better go.” Y/N said, giving him a little smile.
“Harry!” Finn pounded on the bathroom door, opening it to finding no one there. “What the…”
“Wish me luck.” Harry mumbled, clearly annoyed with once again being interrupted. “Feel like I can never get you for myself.” Harry said, nose rubbing against Y/N’s forehead before he sighed into her hair. “Fucking hate it.”
“Boys,” Finn shouted into the kitchen. “Harry’s vanished into thin air!”
“Jesus Christ, what an absolute nutter.” Harry groaned, stepping away from Y/N and over to her door. He laid his hand on the doorknob, looking over his shoulder at her before turning it. “Good luck with your essay, Y/N.”
She smiled at him.
“Best fucking violinist I’ve ever known.”
Once again, Harry left Y/N to herself. She heard him shouting at Finn to stop being an idiot, and Finn shouting back that he thought he had lost his best mate. Y/N locked her door and giggled, leaning against it once the corridor outside was quiet. She bit her lip as the images of what had just happened flashed through her brain. Her life was finally falling into place.
TAGLIST
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#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fanfic#het fic#1dff#THANKS FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME ANGELS !!!!
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No Lesbian Sheep
Summary: “Aliens, time travel, life or death situations and you’re too scared to flirt?” Or, Bill Potts can spot a disaster lesbian from a mile off and now you’re getting wing-womaned... in space. [Request] [One Shot] [SFW]
Warnings: Little bit of language, whole lot of farcical plot points.
Word Count: 3640
NB: For anon! This accidentally turned into an ode to Bill because I freaking love her and I had so much fun writing her! Lesbian sheep factoid courtesy of my girlfriend. Is this... crackfic?
"I don't get it." Bill stirred her drink with the paper straw she’d been given, pulling a face at the way it was beginning to disintegrate. "What do you see in her?"
"What?" You glanced up from the glass in front of you, head full of anxious static. "See in who?"
"Oh, see in who," she mocked in a terrible facsimile of your voice. You snorted. "In Missy. I mean," both palms on the table, she leaned forwards conspiratorially. “Just- what is it?”
It’s fine, just play it cool. “What are you on about?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not- I don’t- could you stop looking at me like that?” You flicked a tiny chunk of ice at her nose with your straw and she laughed. “I don’t fancy Missy, alright?”
Scoffing, she sat up straight, shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, sure, alright, I believe you.” She sipped her drink and looked around the student union casually. “It’s just, she was talking about you last night and-”
“What did she say?”
Oops.
“I knew it!” Her head whipped back around and she jabbed a finger towards your chest, eyes bright with triumph. “You totally fancy her! Look, can you tell the Doctor? He bet me and Nardole a takeaway that you weren’t interested and...” She trailed off at the look on your face. “Yeah, probably shouldn’t have mentioned that last bit.”
“You and Nardole? He bet you?” You stared at her, mouth agape. “Bill, who else knows?!”
“No-one!” The response was far too quick. “Well, I mean, Nardole knows, but the Doctor doesn’t believe us. You know what he’s like, though, never notices anything like that.” She smiled guiltily and placed her hand on yours. “Are you annoyed at me?”
"Basically always, but I’ll get over it.” You gave her a gentle kick under the table in a reluctant gesture of goodwill. “You haven’t mentioned anything to her, have you?”
“What? No!” Letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, you leaned back in your chair. “I mean, she definitely knows, though.”
“Oh my god.” You covered your face with your hands and peeked out at her through your fingers. “Is it really obvious?”
“Oh, no, no,” she muttered unconvincingly around the straw in her mouth. “Well, it is a bit obvious, yeah.” Sensing the imminent nervous breakdown, she backpedalled, “or maybe it’s just me! I do sort of know what it looks like when you have a crush on a woman. Other people might not see it.”
“Nardole sees it,” you reminded her, and she gave you an apologetic smile.
“Yeah, fair point. I mean,” she shrugged. “For the record, I think you should go for it.”
“Go for it?” You scoffed. “Oh, what, ask her out for a drink? It’s not a film, Bill, I can’t just-”
“Oh, it is so a film!” She was getting excited, that sparkling look coming over her face that usually spelled trouble. “Aliens, time travel, life or death situations and you’re too scared to flirt?”
“I’ll die a hundred times before I embarrass myself in front of a good looking woman.” It was only partly a joke. “Anyway, she’d never be interested in me.”
“Don’t make me sit here talking you up and telling you what a catch you are, because we’ll both get embarrassed,” she said seriously. “You have to try. You owe it to yourself. Hell, you owe it to me! Every time I bring a girl back to the flat, there’s a Pope, or a robot, or an alien plant in my bedroom. My love life is dead in the water. One of us has to be getting some.”
Bill was a force to be reckoned with. Her eagerness was infectious, and despite your concerns you found yourself grinning and determined. “Do you really not fancy her, at all?”
“Really,” she agreed. “But then I was never that into bad girls - well, not that bad, anyway. But you…” She pointed her straw at you. “You need to seize the moment. Do it for the lesbians.”
“Yeah,” you said wistfully, and clinked your glass against hers. “Alright. For the lesbians.”
+++++
“First things first, we need to find the control room.”
“Oh, astonishing powers of deduction there, Taggart.”
The Doctor threw Missy a dirty look, the blue lights casting his face in sharp relief. She was perched on the handrail that ran either side of the T-junction walkway, above a sheer drop into the pitch-black bowels of the ship. Opposite her, you, Bill and Nardole held firmly to the railing and tried not to look down.
“So we try both doors?” Bill suggested. “Split up?”
“Yes, Bill,” he praised, and she beamed.
“Swot,” you whispered in her ear. Landing an elbow in your ribs, she glanced at you from the corner of her eye and tilted her head to indicate Missy, who was swinging her dangling legs back and forth in boredom. Showtime, she mouthed. You gulped.
“Missy, you take Nardole. You two,” he gestured towards your queasy human huddle, “with me.”
“Why do I get him?”
“Sir, I’m not sure that’s wise,” Nardole agreed nervously, fiddling with his gloves.
The Doctor looked unimpressed at their complaints. “Well she can’t go alone.”
“No, of course not.” Bill dug her elbow in sharply. “You’ll go, won’t you?” She gave you a pointed look.
“Oh! Um, yeah,” you piped up, trying to sound casual as you pulled away from the jab to your side. “Of course, not a problem.”
“Oh, my hero.” Missy pressed a hand to her chest and leaned dizzyingly far back into the darkness, before launching herself to her feet. “Come along then, poppet. Let’s take a look-see.” She hooked one hand around your upper arm and tugged forcefully, making you stumble as you followed her.
“Comms bracelets,” the Doctor called after you, pointing to the cuff on his wrist. “Don’t go out of range.”
“Yes, yes,” she agreed blithely as she frogmarched you towards the door. “If we die, we’ll call you.”
The door shot upwards, disappearing into the wall to reveal another empty stretch of corridor that curved out of sight. “Ladies first,” Missy chimed, and pushed you forwards with a hand in the small of your back.
+++++
“Left or right?”
Missy’s voice was deadpan. “Yes, that does appear to be the choice, doesn’t it?”
As it turned out, the corridor had stretched on for almost a hundred unremarkable yards before ending in yet another junction of two identical doors.
“We split up again, then,” you said confidently. “I’ll go left, you go right, see which way looks the most promising?” As much as you weren’t a fan of the idea of exploring a spaceship on your own, Missy’s company was distracting. The prospect of a few minutes of solitude in which to have a firm word with yourself and gather your thoughts was quite an attractive one.
“Definitely not.” Okay, unexpected. “The Doctor wouldn’t be impressed if I sent a squishy, defenceless human off on her own, all breakable and full of blood.” She threw you a stern look that was not helping you calm down. “We’ll check them together.”
“We have the comms bracelets,” you protested weakly, holding up your wrist to show it to her. She wrapped her hand around your arm just below the device and held tightly. You bit back an embarrassing squeak.
“Irrelevant. Come on,” she nodded towards the door on the left. “Close behind me. If something tries to eat you, let me know.”
Encouragingly, this new section of corridor looked different. It was long and straight, and something at the end of it was lit up in green. Missy’s body obscured most of your view as she pulled you along behind her none-too-gently. “See anything?”
“Shh!” The hand that wasn’t gripping your arm shot up in front of you. “Listen.”
You cocked your head and tried to focus your hearing, but whatever she was talking about was getting louder. It was a vaguely familiar whining noise, setting your teeth on edge, just at the high end of your hearing range. “Sounds like an old cathode ray telly switching off.”
“Yes,” she murmured, squinting at the light that you now realised was brighter than it had been. “Or something switching on.”
Suddenly the metal floor panels were rushing up to meet you. You tried to put one hand out to keep your face from crashing into the ground, but it was an instant too late and your wrist twisted painfully under your chest. Missy was on top of you, breathing close to your ear, her arm flung out to keep you pressed into the floor.
“What-,” you were cut off by a deafening noise as the corridor lit up in bolts of blinding green light that shot, screaming, over your heads.
“Security system,” she hissed in your ear. “Don’t move.”
Movement was beyond your capabilities anyway. You squeezed your eyes shut against the light and tried not to focus on the way her hips were cradling yours or the restraining touch of her cool hand on your arm. You could hear your rapid pulse even over the sound of the lasers.
It was over as suddenly as it began; the noise cut off abruptly, leaving you panting hard underneath her. Her hand slid down your arm, stopping at your injured wrist. She squeezed lightly, pressure that felt like touching a bruise. “Not broken.”
“No,” you agreed, breathless. “I’ll be fine.”
“You could thank me, you know,” she murmured, not moving. “For saving your life.”
Your brain short-circuited. Was this… was she…
“Are you two okay? We heard shots.”
The Doctor’s tinny voice rattled out of her comms bracelet. She rolled over, letting you sit up.
“Set off a very hostile burglar alarm,” she spoke into the microphone. “No casualties.”
“Good. We found the control room. There’s a map, looks like you’re nearby. Follow my directions and get back here, you’ll want to see this.”
+++++
"You know, for ages they thought there were no lesbian sheep.”
You pulled a face and adjusted the ice pack on your wrist, picking up another hobnob. “You what?”
“Like, they knew there were gay sheep, or… rams, or whatever.” Bill sat down at her kitchen table opposite you, bearing two fresh cups of tea. “But they didn’t think there were any lesbian sheep until a few years ago. D’you know why?”
“Interspecies misogyny?” You guessed around a mouthful of biscuit. She shook her head.
“It’s because, right, when male sheep want to mate, they make a move. They go up to the other sheep, all sexy or whatever, and, well… yeah.” She made an indecipherable, faintly vulgar hand gesture and you choked on hobnob crumbs, reaching for your tea. “But when a girl sheep wants to mate, they just sort of… stand there. Apparently that’s how they attract the males, right? But what happens if two girl sheep fancy each other?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response.
You shrugged. “I s’pose they just stand there.”
“Exactly.” She sipped her tea and looked at you over the rim of the mug as if that was the answer to something. “So all over the world there are fields full of lonely lesbian sheep, standing still, looking at each other, waiting for something to happen.”
“But it never will,” you finished, and frowned. “God, that’s really depressing.”
“Yeah, I know. We should get the Doctor to do something about it. Anyway, though, that’s not the point.” She waved the thought away.
“There was a point?”
“The point is,” Bill leaned forwards, elbows on the table, and fixed you with an intense look. “Don’t be a sheep.”
+++++
“Have to say, this is not one of my top ten favourite adventures.”
“I thought you loved snails?”
You scowled over your shoulder at Bill, arm thrust out through the bars of the cage you were locked in together. “I love Earth snails,” you said through gritted teeth, inching further into the gap. “I love snails that aren’t big enough to eat me, which is a distinction I never thought I would have to make.”
“And yet here we are.” She leaned back against the bars opposite and watched you. “Do you want me to have another go?”
“I think I’ve almost…” you spider-walked your hand along the cool stone floor outside the cage, managing to brush the sonic screwdriver with your little finger before you lost your balance and fell backwards, sending it rolling an inch further away. You groaned. “Yes please.”
She rose to her feet and came to stand beside you, frowning. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. We need Mr. Fantastic.”
“Or a stick.” You collapsed onto your back, looking up at the metal ceiling. “Do we have a stick?”
“No stick,” she confirmed, and then clapped her hands so suddenly that you jumped. “I’ve got an idea. Take off your bra.”
Scoffing, you sat up. “Bill Potts, I love you dearly and we may be about to die, but we both know we aren’t each other’s type.”
“No,” she grinned, “I think I can hook it and pull it over here. We just need something to get it with.” Sighing at your unconvinced expression, she gestured to her tank top and jeans. “Well I’ve got nothing to take off, have I? No scarf, no jacket, nothing.”
“Alright, fine,” you conceded, working your hands under your clothes to unhook your bra and awkwardly pull it out from beneath the fabric. “Here.”
“Aw, that’s cute!” She took it from your outstretched hand. “Where’d you get it?”
“Dunno, check the label.” You climbed to your knees and shuffled over. “You really think you can reach it?”
“I think it’s worth a go.” She held one end of it and swung it underhand, the hooks on the back skittering across the ground just shy of where the screwdriver lay. Her face lit up. “Oh, this is so gonna work.”
She pulled back for another try, and as she did so, the door slammed open. You both yelped in surprise. Bill lost her grip and flung your bra uselessly across the room.
“You know what the best thing about snails is?”
The Doctor’s manic voice was a welcome relief as he began to fiddle with the padlock on the cage. You turned to see him brandishing a ring of keys, testing each one in turn. “Even when they’re huge, they’re still incredibly slow. You can steal their keys and jog at a moderate pace and everything works out alright. Well, mostly.” The cage door swung open and he gestured for you to follow him. “Come on, come on. TARDIS is outside. Missy,” he called over his shoulder. “I dropped my screwdriver in here somewhere, think you can find it while I hold off our slimy friends?”
Your heart stopped for a second. “Doctor-”
“Oh, of course,” Missy breezed. “Stick me with the boring job. I do keep telling you to get something bigger, you’re always losing the bloody thing.”
He scoffed, leaning into the cage to grasp your hand and tug you to your feet. “I don’t care what you say, sonic umbrellas look ridiculous.”
As you were manhandled out of the room and into the TARDIS, you threw a miserable glance backwards and crossed your arms self-consciously over your chest.
+++++
The argument that was currently unfolding in the kebab shop had you wishing you were still being held prisoner by giant carnivorous gastropods.
Bill folded her arms and looked up at the Doctor expectantly. “It’s your turn to pay.”
“It’s definitely not,” he insisted, raising a defiant eyebrow. “And you can’t prove that it is, you’ve given me nothing definitive.”
“Oh my god, yes it is!” She threw her hands up in frustration and shot you a pleading look.
You shook your head and huffed, slapping a ten pound note down on the formica countertop. “I’ll pay, then, shall I?”
+++++
Back in the console room, you handed out polystyrene cartons of chips and wondered, idly, how and when buying takeaways for aliens had become so mundane. You sat beside Bill on the stairs, eating ravenously with a tiny wooden fork like you’d just been on a totally normal day out.
Nardole was back in the office, keeping an eye on a particularly unstable experiment. Across the room on the other staircase, the Doctor and Missy were arguing good-naturedly about the finer distinctions between slugs and snails. You tuned in intermittently, trying to limit yourself from looking up from your meal too often. Bill smirked and you nudged her with your knee, ducking your head away.
“I’m telling you, giant slugs would be a far bigger problem.”
“They’ve got no bones, man!” Missy gestured towards the two of you with her fork. “Even the chuckle twins over there could kill them with a well-placed poke!”
The Doctor grinned. “Ah, but they’re faster.”
“They are not faster, that’s an urban legend.” She tossed her head impatiently, meeting your eyes just as you glanced over at her. “Tell him.”
“I- uh- I don’t think they’re faster,” you agreed hastily. “I mean, I don’t know. Bill?” You turned to her with your best imploring expression.
“Don’t look at me, I’ve got no idea.” She patted your knee in encouragement and stood up. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”
If you weren’t so desperately thirsty you would have protested; as it was, all you could do was nod. “Yeah, cheers.”
“Doctor?” She inclined her head towards the door. “You wanted to show me that thing?”
Oh, god, please don’t do this.
“What? Oh, yeah. Thing. Absolutely.” He climbed to his feet and headed up the stairs and towards the kitchen. “Come on. Kettle and… and thing.”
Hands thrust in her pockets, Bill followed after him. “I meant to ask, how would you feel about like, interfering with evolution? Not massively, just to fix something.”
“If you want me to give humans their tails back, the answer’s no,” he said, voice firm. “That was a very long weekend that I’m not eager to repeat.”
“Nothing like that.” She paused in the doorway and looked back at you pointedly. “It’s just this thing about sheep.”
The door closed behind them, and you were left alone in the console room with Missy. You smiled weakly and averted your eyes, sticking another chip in your mouth.
“I was lying.” She broke the silence and stretched her legs out on the stairs.
You swallowed hard. “About- about what?”
“About the slugs. They are faster. I just like to make him feel stupid.”
“Somebody has to, I suppose.” Setting the remains of your meal aside, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I’m, uh, glad you’re here for that. And for other reasons, too, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she agreed. “How’s the hand?”
“What? Oh,” you glanced down at the fading bruise on your wrist. “Good, yeah. Fixed. Thanks, by the way. You know, for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Part and parcel of becoming one of the good guys, I believe. On that note,” she stood and strolled over to you, raising an eyebrow. “I have something for you.”
“You do?”
She was right in front of you, almost at eye level. “Oh, yes.” One hand went behind her back, pulling out a familiar piece of fabric. Your heart sank as she held out your lost bra, hooked on a slender finger.
“I’m so, so sorry,” you babbled, face burning with a violent blush. “We needed something to reach the screwdriver with and-”
When you extended a hand to take it from her, she snatched it away, tucking it back into her coat. “I’ll trade you for it.”
There was something implacable in the way she looked at you, something that made your voice crack. “Trade me what?”
Missy gripped the banister beside you and leaned in close. Her eyes moved across your face, unhurried, charting every nervous twitch you couldn’t suppress. She grinned like a shark and her free hand slid under your chin, tilting your face towards her, close enough that your noses nearly touched. “A kiss, poppet,” she cooed.
Not a sheep. Don’t be a sheep.
The force with which you brought your lips to hers surprised even you. You reached up to slide your fingers into her thick hair, and the pleased noise she let out into your mouth made your breath hitch. She gave as good as she got, pushing you down onto your back on the stairs, one hand braced beside you to hold herself up. You wrapped your other arm around her waist and held on for dear life.
When she broke away, hovering above you like something from a dream, you let out a startled giggle. “Wow.”
“Eloquent as always.” There was no venom in her words. She brushed her lips against your cheek. “Thanks for the food, by the way. I believe it’s the Doctor’s turn next.”
You gawked up at her. “You knew?”
“Oh, please, I’m not an idiot. I thought it wouldn’t be sportsmanlike to interfere, that was all. Had to let you figure it out for yourself.” Her tone turned serious for a moment, her eyes softening. “I didn’t want to coerce you either way.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” you admitted. “You might have had to wait a long time.”
“Luckily for you, I’m extremely patient.” She kissed you again, briefly, and pulled back. “You’ll have to hold him to it, though. Time Lords aren’t famous for honouring the deals they make. Speaking of which,” she straightened up and patted the front of her coat where your bra was tucked, “I think I’ll hold onto this for now.”
You watched in stunned silence as she turned on her heels and left. When you were sure she couldn’t hear you, you jammed your knuckles in your mouth and laughed until your face was wet with tears.
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FFXIV Oneshot: OC Based Fanfiction [Wol-verse]
Rating: PG17 for safety
Pairings: Wol x Emet-Selch/Hades Oc x Haurchefant
Notes:
OC wol, nb but referred to as She, based off theories floating around and for @talechaser-ffxiv
Summary:
Hades meets a old friend at the very end.
Word Count: 1287
“Hythlodaeus.” His name easily fell from Hades’ mouth as he came to sit next to the splayed out man. The world was blindingly bright around them, and both of them had glowing holes that decorated their bodies. The man shifted his hood falling, a eyes that Hades did not recognize stared at him, but at the same time they were familiar. The older man shifted and laid down on the white grass heavily. The blue eyes studied him for a moment, gazing at the glowing hole then back up at his companions golden eyes.
“Hades,” Hythlodaeus said with a smile. “Made her mad again did you?” Hades rolled his eyes.
“Like she would ever raise her hand to harm me unless I instigated it.” He sighed, his shoulders heaving. Hades wanted to sleep, willed it come, but it remained elusive. He was dead finally right? This was when one could sleep.
Beside him the elezen hummed. “And, you did just that did you not?”
“I would rather not speak of it.” Hades muttered, shutting his eyes, overwhelming guilt cascaded down his chest. He no longer felt the dampening chains of Zodiark weighing him down, he felt freely without the cries of the dead filling his ears. As he struggled with the emotions a hand touched his wound carefully he winced, reaching up and grabbing at… nothing.
“She’s trying to pull you back.” Hythlodaeus said from beside him. Hades opened his eyes and could hear sobbing far off in the distance. “She does not want you to go. I think her words are, ‘you are not the sums of your scars’.” The elezen frowned, “Although it is very heavily accented.”
Hades laughed. “Yes, this incarnation of her is very different.” He felt warmth blooming in his chest along with the pain of whatever she was doing to keep him from fading into death.
“You enjoy this incarnation, it is like back in Amaurot.” The voice of the blue eyed elezen was soft, and it caused Hades to frown. Turning his head he felt his eyes go wide as he realized Hythlodaeus was crying. “Was he with her?”
Hades blinked, shifting to settle on his elbows. Groaning with pain as he did so, struggling to stay with his companion. “He? Ah, you mean the Miqo’te boy. The one with red hair.”
“Yes.” Hythlodaeus’s voice was faded, hurting. “How was he?”
“Not within the battle that she and I had.” Hades sighed, “But when I did grace his presence he was fine. If a little quiet.” The man looked at the elezen who sighed heavily, his body seeming to sink into the white grass. “Was he?”
“The one I loved back in Amaurot? Yes, Hades, that was him. A fragment but him.” Blue eyes stared up at the white nothingness. Hythlodaeus’s hand reached up towards the blank sky, his fingers spread wide as if he was reaching out towards the one he missed most. “I, was a fragment as well. Only realizing it once I passed.”
Hades frowned, waving at the glowing hole within his chest. “I have time, tell me my old friend.”
Hearty laughter came the elezen. “As much as she permits you, her constant pulling at your soul.” Hythlodaeus sighed, clearly content to tell his story. “Well, as you can see I have grown fond of this form.” Reaching up he touched the white hair. “I went by the name Haurchefant, and they came to me in need of shelter.”
“Of course you gave it to them.” Hades waved his hands a little, even though he was still propped up on his elbows.
“Of course. Why would I not? They were so very familiar, they were so comfortable to be around. Oh, Hades they did such wonderful things for the home I was born into.” Hythlodaeus smiled his eyes closing as the fond memories washed over him. “She was so very brave, and he assisted her. Like a family, so close together just as they had been back in the day.”
Hades watched his friend with a somber expression. He was hearing her more clearly, her sobbing, calling his name ‘Hades, Hades!’ He could also hear her companions telling her to let him go. Her hands on his chest, pumping her aether into him. The pain spreading through his body. He sighed, trying not to focus on her at the moment and only his long time friend. Who, he realized, was staring at him with a smile.
“You want to go to her.” Hythlodaeus smiled widely, teasingly. Hades scoffed and rolled his eyes, looking away to his right, where he could faintly see her outline hovering over him. Her white ears back, her war paint streaked with tears. Her one uncovered golden eye leaking continuous tears. Hades shifted, leaning into the phantom a little, it was almost like he could feel her warmth. “Why don't you?” He heard his friend ask as the sound of rustling fabric echoed in the empty space. When Hades turned back he saw the elezen now looking at him softly.
“You have not finished your story yet.” Hades muttered as he frowned at his friend.
Hythlodaeus huffed, shifting to sit cross legged. “You do not need to worry about me, I am already dead.” He pointed to the gaping hole in his chest.
“How did it happen.” Golden eyes stared at the blue with frustration. The other man sighed at Hades before he poked the still blue glow that clung to his chest.
“I protected them, just as I did in Amaurot.” Hythlodaeus sighed. “You remember, the final days, the sky falling, the flows of magma…”
“I remember the falling rocks, and you, ever the fool, sheltered them with your body. As I struggled with the will of the planet.” Hades muttered, unpleasant emotions bubbling up within his breast. It was no longer stifling anguish, instead it was a horrible sadness. Pain laced through his chest, and with a gasp he shuddered. Sitting up gasping for air; it was as if it was being sucked from his very lungs.
“She is winning.” The elezen smiled, “She is pulling you back.”
“Finish your story Hythlodaeus.” Hades hissed as he clutched at his collar bone.
The other man waved his hand nonchalantly, teasingly, as if he did not want Hades to hold onto him any longer. “I was impaled. He tried to save her, I saved them both.”
“Just as you were struck with the meteor.” Hades wheezed staring at the glowing hole in his friends chest.
Hythlodaeus shrugged, smiling. “Hey, when you return to the living, tell him that my hot chocolate recipe is in my work desk under a false board. He will like it.” Hades winced but nodded. “Also, tell him, tell him I am sorry.” The Elezen’s smile faded a little, tears sprouting at the sides of his eyes. “Tell him, I, Haurchefant Greystone, am sorry I could not stay with him a little longer. But I do not regret my choices.”
Hades reached out and clasped his old friends arm. “You will be reborn, you will find him again.” Though his face was pained he tried to stare at his companion with an expression of staunch acceptance. That Hythlodaeus was tied to him, he would find his Miqo’te again.
He waved off his friend's arm. “Go Hades, go you absolute fool. Stop fighting her, she needs you more than you think.”
“Hades!! Please, yeh can't go!”
He weary Ascian laughed, “Not as much as I need her.” The light faded into dark, the Elezen’s smiling face was the last thing Hades saw before he opened his eyes to find himself back in the arms of his Hero of Light.
#ffxiv fanfiction#ffxiv fanfic#wol x emet-selch#wol x hades#wol x solus zos galvus#solus zos glavus x wol#emet selch x wol#haurchefant x oc#hythlodaeus x oc#Remember Me [emetxwol]
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