#and its actively pulling the worst parts of Love out of her. People try to course correct. It gets worse. Soon we're at another Crisis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsignthirsty · 2 years

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OMG! I'm loving your Iceman stories!! 🥵🌡🥵🌡🥵🌡👅👅👅

Can I request a story? Maybe it's the night before Ice has to be deployed and the reader is upset and he comforts her with some sexy lovemaking?

Please and thank you ❤️

@ecarroll1978 — thank you for your eternal patience. I got smacked upside the head by SitM and was unable to focus on anything else for a minute.

I know you asked for sexy lovemaking, and I was reaching for that, but then I spilled a bunch of angst into the mix. Sorry in advance. I hope that this still scratches your itch.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader Word Count: 2700 Warnings: Smut, angst, more feelings that you may have thought you signed up for with me Minors DNI

Do You Have to Go?

Ice's bag sits by the door. Packed with military efficiency next to his boots. His khakis are pressed and folded on the chair in the corner of your room. Dog tags on the nightstand.

He leaves in the morning.

The carrier departed earlier today — or, well, yesterday. One of the benefits of dating a naval aviator is that you get a couple extra days. They're the last to deploy and the first to disembark. Something to do with the planes being unable to take off while the carrier is docked.

You went to bed hours ago, but sleep has actively avoided you. Before long, the sun will begin its climb out from the ocean, and Slider will park his car beside Ice's in the garage. Pull a cover over his baby like he's tucking her in, hang his keys in the laundry room, and then you'll drive them both to NAS Miramar. The routine is familiar, but that doesn't mean you like it.

"Hey." Ice gathers you in his arms and pulls you back against his chest. "You okay?" His head ducks into the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning over your shoulder.

"I'm fine."

"Mmm," he hums. "People only say that when they aren't." And he has you there. You're pretty far from fine, but you're even further from admitting it. "If you think any louder, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood. Talk to me."

You try to settle into him. Let him wrap you in his arms and attempt to soak up the steady ba-dum of his heart against your back. The way his sleep-soft hair tickles the underside of your jaw and his knees tuck up under yours. But every one of your lines remains rigid. You open your mouth to say what's on your mind, but there's something in your throat. A wetness that tracks down your nose and into your pillow. Swallowing, you try again, but you know he'll hear it in your voice. "Do you have to go?"

You know the answer before the question has even left your lips, and you hate the way he holds you closer. Presses a slow, sad kiss near your collarbone.

"You know I do."

It's the worst part of loving him: having to let him go. Only having him for scant months at a time. Hoping you get a letter back. A call. But it's also what makes him who he is. And you'd give the world to keep him at your side, but you'd never ask him to change.

Unable to choke out anything else, you nod your head. When Ice begins to turn you in his arms, you keep your eyes shut tight, unable to face him. It doesn't stop the tears from escaping past your lashes and onto his chest, where he cradles your head and rubs soothing circles into your back. "We'll be okay," he reassures you, his voice still rough and thick with exhaustion. "I'll be back before you know it."

It's a sweet lie. Time never passes as slowly as it does when he's deployed. And the moments leading up to it slip like sand through your fingers: faster, the tighter you try to hold on.

"But what if you're not?" you hiccup. "What if…" you can't bring yourself to finish the thought, but it damns you all the same. So you try to comfort yourself with the belief that even if Tom doesn't come home, you'll still have known what it felt like to have basked in the warm glow of his love. To have loved him in return. But all the thought does is wring a round of fresh tears onto his neck.

"I'll come back," he tries again. Pulls you from his chest and angles your head up as his thumb dries salty rivulets from your cheeks. "I'll always come back to you." It's a promise you both know he shouldn't be making, one you'll never be able to hold him to, but he's so sure of himself. You take a shaky breath and nod into the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

Ice presses a kiss to the top of your crown, your forehead, the corner of your lips. You let out a wet gasp and seek him out in a soft kiss. All sad sighs and gentle pressure. When it ends, your head dips beneath his jaw again to nuzzle into him, finally bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders as you breathe him in — no cologne, no aftershave, just his pure masculine scent.

You clutch him close, and Ice hugs you in return. Continues to rub benign circles against your back. Ice smoothes a hand through your hair when you look up at him again. "What can I do?" he asks, his eyes helplessly searching yours.

'Don't leave me,' you want to say. But that isn't fair. Ice never wants to leave you. The months at sea are just as torturous for him as they are for you. "Love me," you beg instead, voice colored with unshed tears. "Just love me."

"I can do that."

Plush lips capture yours, slow where yours grow insistent until you're both lazily trading close-mouthed promises of candied, domestic bliss. Until you're trembling, running on raw emotion, and all that's left is your purest, most vulnerable self. "I've got you," he vows as you tremble in his hands. His next kiss is steeped in passion. A promise of years and the sweetness of real, heartbreaking love as his tongue finally glides along your lips. You let him in with a contented sigh, hands cupping the sharp cut of his jaw, resting over his racing pulse, and drawing him closer.

Ice climbs on top of you, your chests rubbing and lips never parting as you roll onto your back. Your hands meander down his back, pausing to memorize the hills and valleys. The lines of his ribs, the shift of the muscles in his back as he holds himself above you. The calluses lining his hands as they skim up and down your side, knead at your hips.

When his lips break from yours, it's so he can lift your night shirt over your head. You arch off the bed to help. Before the fabric hits the floor, your fingers are in his hair, tugging him into another silky kiss. Ice obliges momentarily but then sits back, his hand on your chest, stilling you against sweat-damp sheets. His eyes rake from your sleep-tousled hair and glossy eyes down to your heaving chest. And you lie there, entranced by the thumb that plays at the waistband of his boxers, let him drink you in while you study the way that the moonlight streaming through the window highlights the Cupid's bow of his lips, the roundness of his broad shoulders, the cut of his abs. How his blonde hair is painted silver and his pale eyes seem to glow.

"You're beautiful," he breathes as he stretches over you, with smooth skin and a love-drunk expression. The praise sends a shiver down your spine, and you wrap your thighs around him to pull him closer, desperately needing the contact. To feel whole before he's ripped away from you. Again.

Ice fits against you like a puzzle piece. Clicks into place and showers you with tender kisses until the loose cotton of your sheets is too much. Clinging to you and making sweat beads along your temples, you try to kick them off the edge of the bed with tangled limbs. Tomorrow night, they won't be enough to keep you warm. Not in his absence.

"Bite me," you plead with your fingers twisted in his hair. You want to feel the sting of his teeth sinking into your tender flesh. Want to wake up for days with the physical manifestation of his brand staring back at you in the mirror. Something you can pet and poke and worry and keep long after he's landed on the carrier.

Ice must understand because he takes to the task easy enough. He kisses down your collarbone and between the valley of your breasts. It starts with a lingering peck, then his tongue. A nip. A hearty suck. You can already feel the bruise forming, pulsing beneath his lips as he continues to work the tender skin. He stops sucking with a wet, satisfied smack, then trails his lips lower, not stopping until you're littered with the rosy red bloom of his mark. Your hips, your thighs, your collarbones.

"That better, baby?" he asks, licking over the freshest mark in an attempt to quiet the still-burning sting of his affection. You nod because these will have to do. But the bruises will fade with time. Then his scent will be whisked from his pillow and out the window with the breeze, and you'll be truly alone. Left to drift through the house like a specter. Entombed within the four walls where once you'd flourished. A tomb and a shrine to the life you've built together. Brittle. Dead as the desert shrubs until his love rolls in like a storm and breathes you back to life.

Before he can move on away, you kiss down Ice's neck. He lets you, head tilting to the side to give you more room to work with. And with his silent permission, you return the favor. Tentatively, at first, but then with fervor. Sucking a deep mark into the unblemished skin above his collarbone. Your stamp. A claim is easily hidden beneath his khakis, flight suit, and dress whites, but that Slider will tease him for in the locker room. Your own brief reminder of what he has to come home to.

When you're done, Ice guides your lips back to his. They part instantly, your breathing shallow and rushed, heads tilting, hands grabbing.

"Tom."

"I know, baby. I know." He's hard against your thigh but ignores it in favor of sucking your bottom lips into his mouth. Nibbling at it until it's tender and plump from the treatment. A hand ghosts over your chest, thumbing over your nipple before his fingers trail up to your hand. He laces your fingers together, kisses the back of your thumb, your wrist, then presses your hand into the mattress beside your head. You give his hand a squeeze and marvel at the size of it. How it dwarfs your hand while holding it so delicately like you're something precious.

With a shift, his cock is hot against your core, gliding effortlessly as he rocks his hips with a groan. When he tries to sit up, you use your hand clasped in his to pull him to you. Shaking your head, you tell him: "Want it. Need to feel you." And he nods because he's always known you better than you know yourself. Like the bruises, you want to feel this for days. The sweet pleasure-pain of where he's stretched you open. Where you've been joined so completely. Where you once were whole.

Your legs loosen around his hips so he can position himself at your entrance, the hand not in yours pressing one of your thighs into the mattress. The tip sinks in, and you close your eyes to savor the feeling, but Ice pulls out just as fast. "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he croons, and you're helpless to do anything but obey. He's gorgeous like this: eyes half-lidded and dark with desire, fringe falling into his eyes, cheeks an amorous pink. Tomorrow he'll be the Navy's, but tonight he's yours.

You both moan as he inches into you.

And you would be happy to stay just like this all night. You want to. Would give the world for it. Hands clasped tight because you know it's only a matter of hours until you'll have to let go. Chests flush, heaving and close enough to feel his heart race. Eyes so focused in loving adoration that you can count every shade of blue-green in them. Your legs snug around his hips, holding him to you like this will be the thing to bolt him to the ground. To keep him here. With you. Safe from the rising tensions over a vast wasteland of water. Still flying high but tethered to you. To home. Like a kite catching in the breeze.

Ice shifts against you like the tide — slowly rolling in and out — and you can't help but sigh as his love washes over you. You tense with each forward thrust of his hips, litter his back with half moon etchings, and shudder when he groans. His cheek is rough against your lips as you trail down to mouth at his jawline. Lick along the corded muscles in his neck and feel the hum of his voice as he says your name like a prayer into the night.

You want, more than anything, to freeze this moment, but there goes time again, slipping through your fingers like sand. Disappearing like the moon behind the clouds or the breath from your lungs. A plane into the distance. Ice speeds up, his pace still heart-stoppingly slow. He captures your lips, your tongues curling together and eyes slipping closed as you arch into him. It's hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins; the lines between are thoroughly blurred from the pleasure and the tears, but it's still not enough.

"Tom," you plead, breath hitching. Bottom lip trembling and fresh tears wetting your eyes, though you're no longer certain whether it's from pleasure or melancholy. Ice knows, though. He kisses the tears from your lashes, the same emotions aching between his ribs.

"I love you," he pants, swallowing hard around the emotion leaking through and soaking that velvety voice you love. "So much. Never—" Never want to leave. But it goes unsaid. Because saying so changes nothing. He'll still fly out with the morning light. Instead, he presses his forehead to yours, slick with the sweat from your lovemaking.

"Please."

He presses a kiss to your temple. Harder this time. Then sinks his lips into yours with a barely restrained passion, some of that tight-leashed control slipping through his fingers. "Wanna show you how much I love you," he says, hips pressed firmly to your own, and you bounce with it. "Want you with me all the time." You keen. "Gonna make it official," he groans.

Your mouth drops open with a gasp that's half surprise as your skin prickles and your mind goes fuzzy.

"When I get back. Just- god—" Ice's head falls between his shoulders with a strangled noise "—Just gotta wait for me to get back." His lips surge into yours, needily catching your moans on his tongue. "You can do it, sweetheart. I know you can." His admission is simultaneously too much and not enough. The two of you devolving into stuttered breaths and trembling hips. Both chasing the end while wanting to hold it off as long as possible — draw out the moment forever, like the horizon disappearing over the sea.

But, unlike your love, the night is finite.

You reach your peaks, groaning into each other's mouths and wrapped in an intimate embrace. Clinging together and trading slow, hungry kisses until Ice's softened cock slips from you and the chill of the early morning leeches the heat from you both, leaving you shivering on the bed, sated and reeking of sex.

Ice picks the blankets up from where they'd been kicked to the floor. Instead of draping them over you as your eyes grow heavy, he motions for you to stand, and as you make your way to the back door bundled in the duvet, he pulls on some sweatpants and starts the coffee maker.

The two of you sit under the fading stars on the back patio. Talking about everything and nothing in hushed whispers. Enjoying the bitter taste of your coffee as the sky bleaches light enough to where you can make out the palm trees swaying in the breeze. As the clouds grow pink, you beg time to stand still, just this once.

It doesn't.

And as the sun finally breaks free of the horizon, Ice presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you burrow further into his side to soak up his love like these first rays of the sun while Slider pulls into the drive.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x f!reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader smut #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #iceman smut #iceman top gun #tom iceman kazansky smut #tom kazansky smut #iceman kazansky #thirsty answers

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children…

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still!

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip!

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how “trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment.

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent.

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating...

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident…

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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xoxoavenger · 3 years

Text

Crazy

pairing: Luke Skywalker x reader

summary: Y/N goes a little crazy when Luke doesn't return from his patrol, and she definitely outs their secret relationship.

word count: 3624

warnings: cannon typical injury

masterlist

"Do you have to go?" Y/N asked, grabbing Luke's arm before he slipped out of the bed.

"If I don't go now, people will get suspicious and come looking for me." Luke kissed her neck, and she rolled onto her back.

"I'm sorry you're so popular, but that's not my fault." Y/N said, eyes still closed and still hanging onto him.

"Y/N," Luke whined, falling back into bed with her as she pulled at him.

"I think you're sick today." Y/N said, placing her arms around him and making him as close as he could be to her.

"There will still be people looking for me. I have to go." Luke kissed her head, untangling himself from her. "You should probably get up too, Y/N." Luke began putting on the extensive layers he had to have on in order to not freeze on this ice planet.

"I don't want to." She mumbled, and he rolled his eyes fondly at her.

"Come on." Luke pulled her up, and she finally opened her eyes. Luke had two layers out of the five he normally put on for missions, and Y/N pouted.

"Why did you put your clothes on?" She asked, and Luke let out a small laugh.

"Because it's cold. You need to put your clothes on too." Luke grabbed Y/N's long sleeved under shirt, and she lifted her arms up so he could put it over her. "Are you ready to go to work today?" Luke asked, getting dressed himself after helping Y/N.

"No." She muttered, wiping her eyes. "Can you do my hair?" Y/N asked, and Luke smiled at her.

"I can't do it as well as Leia does, Y/N. You know that." Luke said, but he still moved behind Y/N and began braiding her hair in two sections. "Here's your hat, love." Luke put the hat on Y/N, and she smiled at him.

"Be careful." She said, leaning on her tip toes to kiss him. He kissed back, lips warm against her cold body.

"I'm always careful." He smirked as they parted.

"Keep talking like that and you'll sound like Han." Y/N smirked, and Luke huffed out a breath. "I'm serious, Luke. I don't know what I'd do without you." She placed her hands on his chest, wishing he would be closer to her than the millions of layers between them to keep them warm.

"I know. You'd go crazier than you already are, Y/N." Luke smiled, hands rubbing his hands up and down her hips.

"Stop it!" Y/N whined, hitting his chest.

"I love you." Luke said, bringing her close.

"I thought you had to leave." Y/N rested her head on his chest.

"I do." He kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." Y/N kissed Luke one more time before the separated and made their way to their respective jobs.

"Han? Where's Luke?" Y/N asked as soon as Han walked into the control room. She knew Luke hadn't checked in yet, and he never forgets.

"He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him." Han answered.

"Alone?"

"With all the meteor activity in this system, it's going to be difficult to spot approaching ships." Y/N's question was disregarded, and she felt her heart race. Something wasn't right.

"General, I got to leave. I can't stay anymore." Han said, and Y/N looked over at Leia. She knew the princess had feelings for the captain, even if she would never admit it out loud.

"What?" Leia turned to see Y/N staring at her.

"Tell him how you feel, Leia! You don't really want him to leave, do you?" Y/N asked, and Liea turned to look at Han again, who was still talking to the General.

"When are you going to tell Luke how you feel, Y/N?" Leia whispered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. Luke and her were still new at the whole love thing, so no one knew about what happened behind closed doors.

"Well, Your Highness, guess this is it." Han said, and Y/N and Leia turned to see Han now behind them.

"That's right." Leia nodded.

"We hate to see you go, Han." Y/N said, and Han shoved her slightly.

"Don't tell me things you don't mean." He smirked, before looking at Leia. "Well, don't get all mushy on me, Princess. So long." And then Han was out the door. Leia and Y/N shared a look before Liea was after him, leaving Y/N to wonder where Luke was.

"Han!" Y/N yelled, making the man stand up and move from under his ship.

"What now?" He asked, and Y/N shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"Where's Luke?" She asked, and Han's face immediately changed to concern.

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't come back yet. Leia and I don't know where he is, and the temperature is starting to drop and-"

"Hold on, honey. I don't know where he is." Han informed her.

"Nobody knows where he is." C-3PO informed them, and Y/N and Han turned to see the gold machine standing beside them.

"Nobody?" Y/N muttered.

"What do you mean, nobody knows?" Han asked, and Y/N's heart picked up its pace as if she was sprinting. "Deck Officer!" Han was yelling before 3PO could speak.

"Excuse me, sir, might I-"

"Shut it, 3PO." Y/N mumbled, following Han.

"Do you know where Commander Skywalker is?" Han asked.

"I haven't seen him." Y/N shut her eyes as the man spoke, trying to think of the best case scenario as stomach churned.

"Is it possible he came in through the south entrance?" Y/N asked, eyes still closed.

"Yes."

"It's possible? Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there." Han commanded.

"Yes, sir." The man responded, and it was quiet until Y/N felt hands on her shoulders.

"Y/N?" Han's voice cut through her thoughts, and she opened her eyes. "Are you alright? You're breathing really heavily." Han said, and Y/N nodded, although her breath intake increased.

"Hey, calm down. You're going to make yourself pass out." Han put a gloved hand on her face, and Y/N didn't react. "You probably need some sleep, I'm guessing. Are you tired?" Han had no idea what he was doing, but Luke's best friend was freaking out and normally he dealt with this sort of stuff.

"We need to find Luke." Y/N muttered, suddenly grabbing a helmet and scarf. She was putting them on, glassy look in her eyes.

"You need to stay here, Y/N." Han said, hands still on her shoulders. "Are you okay? You're shaking." Han was staring at Y/N, concerned. She was blinking rapidly and shaking behind the eye shield.

"I'm just cold. Come on, we need to find Luke." Y/N said, putting the helmet on.

"No, I'm going to find Luke. You're going to stay here." Han barely gave her time to finish her sentence. She began to walk away and he grabbed her, pulling her back. "Y/N, seriously. You're not going."

"Let go of me, Han, or I swear to-

"Stop fighting! You're not going!" Han yelled, and Y/N struggled in his arms weakly.

"I have to go! I have to help him!" Y/N yelled, but Han held onto her tightly.

"You can help him by staying here and working in the command center." He then moved to hug her, and she started to cry in his arms.

"Save him, please." She cried to him, and Han felt his heart break. Although Luke and Y/N never said anything about their relationship, Han knew there was something going on.

"I will. I promise."

"Sir, all the patrols are in." Y/N and Leia turned to hear the conversation between the two men.

"Still no-" Y/N turned her head as the man cut himself off, the pair obviously not wanting to say more because Leia and herself were there. "Still no contact from Skywalker or Solo." The man said quieter, and Leia grabbed Y/N's arm.

"Mistress Leia, Mistress Y/N, R2 says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope." 3PO informed them, and Y/N took a deep breath, wishing her emotions away.

"Your highness, there's nothing more we can do tonight." One of the men said to Leia, and Y/N turned her back to them, trying to clear her mind. It was going to be very cold at night, and Y/N knew it would be hard to survive.

"The shield doors must be closed."

"What?" Y/N cried out, spinning to face them.

"Y/N, we can't do anything until morning." Leia said, pain in her voice.

"They're going to freeze out there!" Y/N cried, and she heard Chewy let out a growl.

"Close the doors." Leia said, and Y/N felt her world collapse in on her, head spinning.

"He's going to die." Y/N mumbled, tears spilling out of her eyes. She looked to Leia, who had a sad frown on her face.

"We don't know that. Han and Luke are strong, Y/N, they can do this." Leia tried to comfort her, but Y/N just shook her head as more tears went tumbling down her cheeks. Just as she was about to fall, to let her body go numb, Chewy grabbed onto her, turning her to him and wrapping his long arms around her as she cried into his fur.

"R2 says the chances of survival are 725 to one." 3PO said, and then the loud clash of the door closing sounded, causing Y/N to cry out. 3PO kept talking, but Y/N drowned him out, sobbing into Chewbacca.

"I'm sure Luke and Han will be back in the morning." Leia's hand was at her back, and Y/N turned her face to see the princess, still holding tight to Chewy.

She slept the worst she has ever slept in her entire life, tossing and turning, her eyes not wanting to stay closed. Still, when she woke up, she was expecting to be in Luke's arms. Instead, she woke up next to a furball, and the pain of yesterday's events came crashing down. Y/N picked herself up, wiping a hand over her face. Her head was spinning, and her chest was hurting from her heart beating out of her chest for so long. She came out of the Millennium Falcon, which she barely remembers falling stumbling in and falling asleep, to see Leia pacing in the hanger.

"Did you even sleep?" Y/N asked, pulling her sleeves down.

"Did you?" Leia looked to Y/N, seeing the bags under her eyes, and then back to the open door. "They sent the rescue team out a little while ago. I'm waiting for word that they found them." Leia said over the irrelevant chatter of the rescue team.

"Hopefully they find something more than just frozen bodies." Y/N said, and Leia frowned at her.

"Have hope, Y/N. I'm sure they'll be okay." Leia put a hand on her shoulder, and Y/N smiled at her.

"Echo Base, this is Rouge Two. I've found them. Repeat, I've found them." Came through the comm, and Y/N and Leia both let out a sigh of relief, hugging each other. Y/N almost felt herself fall as her knees buckled, but Leia righted her.

Y/N and Leia awaited the plane that would be carrying Han and Luke, and Y/N rushed over to it as soon as they landed. Luke was being pushed on a medic carrier, and Y/N followed with it. He was pale, a black eye and cuts adorning his face. Y/N pushed the hair out of his face, feeling his cold skin.

"We need to get him into a bacta tank." Someone said, and Y/N looked up.

"Will he be okay?" Y/N asked, and someone in front of her stopped, making her stop. Luke kept going, and Y/N tried to get around the medic.

"He'll be fine, Ma'am. He will need to spend at least ten hours in the bacta tank, which is a hard sight to see. Are you sure you want to stay with him?" The man asked, and Y/N furrowed her brows in anger.

"Get out of my way." She said, pushing past him and running to keep up with Luke. She watched as he was hooked up to a breathing tube, and then stripped down. The droids slipped a machine over his arms before lifting him into the tank. Y/N made her way forwards toward the tank, placing her hands on the glass as she looked at Luke. He was completely unconscious, and every so often a droid attached to the tank would shock him, causing his back to arch and his body to tense.

Y/N stayed at the tank for twelve hours, sitting next to and leaning on it while watching Luke. She needed to make sure he was okay.

"You should get some sleep. He'll be pulled out soon." Han said, putting a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Han and Leia had been in and out with C-3PO and R2-D2, but Y/N had stayed the entire time, only eating a small portion of the food they had brought.

"I'm okay." Y/N said, smiling up at Han and wiping a hand across her face. He grimaced, and Y/N looked up at Luke, wishing he could just be close to her. Watching him float in the tank lifelessly was unsettling, and all she wanted to do was cuddle with him for an entire solstice.

"You need to sleep at some point. Chewy told me you barley slept on the Falcon last night, and it's getting late." Han told her, and Y/N looked back to him

"Exactly. I slept last night so I'm fine." Y/N told him.

"You need to eat and sleep, and then Luke will be out." Han pushed, and Y/N stood up.

"Why do you care? You were going to leave anyway." Y/N crossed her arms, and Han looked almost hurt.

"I was just trying to help you. Don't want you looking like more of a mess than normal when he comes out." Han said, and Y/N punched his shoulder.

"That's for leaving me here." Y/N seethed, and Han rolled his eyes.

"You would have died out there in your state. I was doing you a favor." He explained, and Y/N pushed Han. It wasn't hard, since she was so weak, but it still angered Han.

"Doing me a favor? I was trying to save him and you stopped me."

"You were going crazy, Y/N! You can't blame me for not taking you." He said, and Y/N frowned.

"I also promised Luke I wouldn't put you in danger if he were to go missing." Han said softly, and Y/N looked to her unconscious lover.

"Why?" She whispered, placing a hand on the tank.

"He loved you, ya know."

"Yeah, I do." Y/N let a tear slip out of her eye, and Han wiped it away.

"He'll be okay." He said, bringing Y/N into a side hug.

"I know, but I just want him to be okay now." She mumbled, placing her other hand on the tank, leaning against it.

"Will you rest now?" Han asked, hoping he'd get to her after that talk.

"I'm okay here." Y/N said, and Han sighed, but left to sleep anyway.

"Mistress Y/N?" Y/N woke up to 3PO's voice, and she looked around to realize she was still in the room they were keeping Luke in. She sat up, looking up to see Luke still floating in the tank. "They're taking Master Luke out now." 3PO informed her, and she stood to see Han and Leia also in the room. The droid detached from the tank, and Y/N stood with the others to watch Luke be lifted out of the tank. They set him on a bed, then toweled him down. They put new clothes on him and then whisked him away, Y/N in tow. Leia and Han met her on the way, and the three of them followed the bed until a droid stopped them.

"No humans allowed until Commander Skywalker is awake." The droid said, and Y/N scowled.

"I'm his girlfriend." Y/N explained.

"Doesn't matter. Commander Skywalker needs his rest." The droid responded.

"Well how long is that gonna take?" Han stepped up, defending Y/N.

"A least a few hours."

"What? No, I want to see him now." Y/N said, trying to get past the droid. It didn't budge.

"I'm afraid you can't. Please go to your room, and we will have you notified when he wakes."

"No! I'm going to be with him in there." Y/N tried to push the droid away, but he did nothing.

"Move, you big bag of bolts!" She cried, but the droid did not let her through.

"Y/N, it'll probably be good for you to get some sleep." Leia put a hand on her shoulder, but Y/N shrugged it off.

"I don't want sleep, I want to see him!" She yelled, but the droid still stood in her way. "I swear to the Imperial Army I will rip you apart piece by piece if you don't let me through." Y/N threatened, however the droid seemed uninterested.

"We'll get clearance from the General. This isn't the hill you want to die on." Leia said, and Y/N turned to her. She looked at Leia, and then at Han, and suddenly she deflated.

"I just want to be with him. Make sure he's okay." She said, crying for what seemed like the millionth time. Leia wrapped her up in a hug, and she let out a breath against her.

"He'll be okay. He's in good hands. You should get some rest." Leia pulled away and winked, and Y/N just nodded. It appeared that Leia had a plan, and knowing her it was probably a good one.

"We're terribly sorry about that." 3PO said as they walked away, and once they turned the corner, Leia began to talk.

"We're sneaking you in here tonight." She mumbled, and the group continued walking.

"How?" Y/N asked, looking at Leia, but she was looking straight ahead,

"It's cold enough at night that there aren't many alive rebels that work in the medical wing, and droids are charging." Leia explained, still looking ahead as they began walking.

"I'll come get you from your room in two hours." Leia finished as they came up to Y/N's room. She honestly almost forgot she had her own room, spending so much time in Luke's.

"Thank you." Y/N smiled at them both, hugged Leia and then went to her room.

She couldn't sleep. She knew Luke was perfectly fine, but not being able to see and feel him made her on edge. She almost fainted at the knock on her door. Y/N opened it way to eagerly, smiling at Leia.

It was cold in the hallways, since it was night now. Y/N shivered as she walked through the empty space, making her way slowly to where Luke was.

"Do you know which room he's in?" Y/N asked, coming up upon the many doors leading to rooms.

"While you were throwing your tantrum, I was watching to see which room they put him in." Leia smirked, opening the door to her right. Y/N smiled, hugged Leia, and then quickly went into the room.

"Oh, Luke." Y/N mumbled, seeing Luke laying on the bed asleep. His hair covered his closed eyes partially, and his skin was still pale, making his injuries seem worse. She pushed herself onto his bed, laying down next to him. "You dumbass." Y/N whispered, clinging to him. His body was warm, and Y/N kissed his cheek, hand going to rest on his chest and leg wrapped around him.

Finally, finally, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

"You're not supposed to be here." Y/N woke to the stupid droids voice, and she sat up.

"I'm sorry." Y/N mumbled, moving from Luke. She looked at him, and he was still sleeping. She felt like she hadn't gotten any sleep, and she realized she hadn't been asleep for long.

"I'm going to ask you to leave, Ma'am." The droid said, and Y/N let a little breath out.

"It's fine, Med. You can go to your next patient." A human said at the door, and Y/N smiled slightly.

"Thank you." She said to the man at the door, who nodded and turned the light off.

Lips on hers. That's what she finally woke up to.

Chapped, bruised, swollen lips, but they most definitely belonged to the one and only Luke Skywalker.

Y/N opened her eyes, pushing Luke away lightly. She was still in his bed in the medic wing, and when she sat up, she noticed Han, Leia, Chewy, 3PO and R2 were also in the room. Y/N blushed, and Luke brought her closer.

"What happened?" Y/N asked, and Luke shook his head, cuddling closer to her.

"I got taken by a snow monster, and it was really cold." Luke mumbled, and Y/N rolled her eyes, holding him close as well.

"Well, it seems you two get along very well. When did this happen?" Han asked, and Y/N sunk farther into the bed.

"A lot of things happen behind your back, Han." Luke said smugly, and Y/N smiled.

"It's cute that you think this was behind my back."

"I'm glad you're okay." Y/N said, looking up at Luke and pretending Han hadn't just spoke.

"I am too. I heard you went crazy and threw a tantrum without me." Luke smirked, and Y/N hit his chest, beginning to move away. "It's kinda cute." Luke said, pulling Y/N closer to him.

"You're about to die again, Commander Skywalker." Y/N threatened, and Luke rolled his eyes and brought her close up to him.

"I'm so glad you're not already crazy."

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #star wars #star wars imagine #luke skywalker imagine

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cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

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A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow @megantje123 @anchoeritic @struggling-bee

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

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stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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ot3 · 3 years

Note

hey kinda heavy ace attorney question ig but I agree with you on many things about aa and feel like you have a good understanding of Phoenix and Trucy so I really wanna ask. How do you think the creation of the bloody ace was handled? I’ve seen the idea that Trucy took matters into her own hands and made it as a failsafe without his knowledge, and that he then covered for her, but if that were the case I wonder how he knew about it and planned around it at his trial. I’ve also seen the idea that he made it himself, but gave it to her for delivery to Apollo; which maybe seems the most apparent but I really dislike it because…. It means he uses her to deliver forged evidence. In much the same way he was given the diary page, really. it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve also seen some people suggest that he made it but only gave it to her for use at her discretion, which does give some agency back to her but I also question whether Phoenix would be right in placing that on her shoulders and making it her responsibility. Sorry this expanded into a ridiculously long ask but I really am curious about your take on it?

eoooh yes yes yes i love talking about phoenix and trucy lets goooooo. i actually have a scene from my (still pretty rough and probably never to be finished) wip longfic covering this scene, which ill sick below the cut, but i'll just give my generic thoughts here first.

i think phoenix asked her to do it. trucy having enough detailed knowledge of the crime scene and the events leading up to it and the actual mechanical operation of trials that would be required in order to come up with this plan just doesn't make any sense to me. phoenix is really the only one who could have theoretically concocted this particular move. but since he was presumably held in the detention center until trial, trucy is from there really the only person who could have actually done the thing.

phoenix and trucy are pretty notoriously codependent; i'm headachey and melting from the heat today so rather than doing what i normally do and trawling the wiki to find the quotes that back me up on broadstrokes statements like these so i'm just gonna pull a 'dude just trust me' moment here. the fact that she helps take care of her daddy is a point of pride for her. i don't think it strips trucy of any agency for this to be phoenix's decision because it's not like trucy spends her whole life (or even the entire game) blindly following other peoples orders. her (and phoenix's ) priority at the beginning of aa4 is each other and their own wellbeing, and the decisions they have to make in turnabout trump are indicative of that.

yes, it echoes her bringing the forged evidence to phoenix 7 years ago, but it's more of an inversion/reversal (one might even say a turnabout) than a repetition of past mistakes. in the past she was an unwilling pawn in someone else's plan where her life was collateral, now she's an active and conscious participant in the plan of someone she cares about that she's doing to protect the life she and phoenix have built for themselves. She's not being forced to do it, but i don't think there's any world where she would have said no either. she and phoenix are the most important thing in the world to each other. in their own words, if one of them falls, they both fall.

was it right of phoenix to ask this of her? was it okay for him to do this to apollo, too? obviously it's not a good thing. but it was his only option at that moment. phoenix found himself in a very difficult situation. as an attorney he promised himself to the truth, and that was the principle he lived by, but as a father what he lives by is the promise he made to trucy to never disappear on her. at that moment phoenix did what he had to do to make sure the trial ended the way he needed it to. truth had to take a backseat. his priorities have shifted.

i've also spoken before at length about how i don't think phoenix was plotting against kristoph in the longterm, at least not to the degree which popular fanon seems to agree upon. so really everything he did in turnabout trump was phoenix being backed into a corner using every tool at his disposal to try and snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat. was it right of him to get trucy involved? it's no worse than bringing 8 year old pearl along to crime scenes because he needed her channeling skills. phoenix cares about people deeply but he isn't capable of shielding them from all the harm the world has to offer, and he knows he isn't. half of his capability comes from his shrewdness and willingness and ability to take help when he can get it because he knows, even if its a strain in a short term, he's fighting battles that need to be won at any cost. if that makes any sense

anyway heres the little scene i wrote below the cut.

---------- APRIL 17TH, 2026 DETENTION CENTER VISITOR’S ROOM ----------

Trucy shows up on the dot as visiting hours begin. It’s funny, she thinks. The last time she did this she had a different daddy altogether. Only it really isn’t particularly funny at all, is the thing about it, and she’s going to have quite a few stern words for the man when he gets home.

She picks up the phone on one side of the pane of bulletproof glass and he grabs the other.

“Daddy,” she huffs. “You promised me you’d stay out of trouble.”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, Truce.” He puts on an easy smile as he says it, and he uses the same affected tone of voice she had used to start the conversation off. Affected. Cautious, in the sense that it’s levity is entirely manufactured. A performance.

It had been like that between them for real at the beginning, both of them still unsure of each other, pantomiming something resembling a sitcom and playing the real feeling filled in as it went. Thankfully, it did, but the theatrics still lend themselves better to specific conversation.

“Well, if you’re sorry, I suppose I can forgive you! But this isn’t going to look good on your employee review, y’know. I’ll have to bring it up with HR.”

“I’m sure Charley can find it in his heart to forgive me, too.”

“He’s a gentle soul.” She nods.

“You should come watch the trial on Monday, I think it’d be good for you to see.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” Trucy doesn’t like the courthouse. Daddy knows that. She never comes when he goes to use the library there. She also hates, hates the idea of watching her daddy sit in the defendant’s chair not knowing if he’s ever going to come home again. He knows that too.

“Well, there are always interesting things to learn during a court trial. Plus, having you there would help me out a lot!” I need you to do something for me. She reads through the tone into his words’ real meaning. Her stomach clenches. A favor he can’t just outright ask for, not over the phone in the detention center, where every word would be recorded.

“Oh, daddy, no! I’m a magician, not a lawyer, although I understand the confusion.” She drapes a hand over her eyes in faux anguish. “I simply couldn’t, it isn’t my stage.”

“I disagree. I think it’s a perfect stage. Lawyers need cheering up too, you know! Back when I was a lawyer, I used to get really stressed out during cases like these. I bet one of your tricks would do the job.”

“Well what sort of trick do you want me to do?”

“Do you remember the first trick you ever did for me? It was the day we met, at the courthouse. You pulled a piece of paper out of your hat and gave it to me.”

“Yes,” she chirps, forcing a vibrant bubble into her voice. It feels like a pile of rocks in her gut and her pulse starts to quicken. “Of course I remember!”

“I bet if you did that trick again, it’d cheer up the whole courtroom! I bet I’d win my case in a heartbeat.”

----------

Her legs feel like jelly by the time the bus drops her off at the stop near the office. Daddy had kept on like that, loaded phrasing and a lopsided smile as he laced vapid banter with instructions. With warnings. She walks into the storage closet and grabs a deck of cards - one of his, the same style they use at the club, not hers for her tricks. Abruptly, she has a moment of panic as she realizes she’s not even sure what color she’s supposed to use, but then, just as fast, she forces her head clear and just grabs one of each.

They’re unopened. This makes it a cinch to find the card she’s looking for. Her stomach flips.

The worst part isn’t even what she’s doing. The worst part is that she’s doing it at all. Daddy knows well what this situation is making her feel and he’s asking her to do it anyway.

The only explanation left: he’s completely out of options.

She pulls her gloves off and grabs a needle from her sewing supplies. She pricks her finger, and lets a drop fall onto each ace.

----------

#ace attorney #i literally love them os much theyre perfect #daddy and daughter of all time

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xcrystalzero · 3 years

Text

to understand you

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

summary: as far as you know, xiao hates humans. so why is he offering to come to liyue harbor with you?

note: listen to this, then read plz! warning, these are leaks so don't listen to it or read this fic if you don't want to be spoiled for coming content!

"If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together."

Never in your life did you think that you would hear those words coming from Xiao. He had been warming up to you in the months that had passed since you had met, enough so that he would actually stick around after the missions you went on together for lunch or just to rest instead of immediately disappearing as he had in the past. He even talked to you now, about things that weren't conquering demons or karmic debt!

Baby steps, you had thought, just happy to able to share his company for some time. So this was a bit out of left field. Of course, that didn't mean that you would treat such a suggestion lightly! The light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the way he wouldn't meet your gaze told you that it must have taken a lot of mustered courage for him to bring this up himself. If you refused him here, you doubted he would ever open himself to you again.

Not that you had plans to refuse him in the first place. No sane person would.

And now, the two of you stood at the edge of one of the many bridges leading into the harbor, you felt a strange giddiness come over you. Xiao was coming with you to Liyue Harbor, he was here because of you!

"So... you're doing this for me?" you had asked.

"Yes, to understand you."

If only he knew exactly how much of an effect those words had had on you.

When you glanced over at the adeptus however, you had to stiffle a giggle. Xiao was standing up stiff as a board, his eyes darting between the people meandering through the pavilion in the distance with a sort of nervous worry. As a man crossed the bridge across from the two of you, Xiao all but leapt out of his way, standing as close to the railing as you were sure was physically possible.

"Are you alright?" you asked, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice, though judging by the glint of annoyance in Xiao's gaze, you hadn't been particularly successful.

"There's... a lot more people than I thought there would be..." he muttered, eyes downcast now as though not looking at said people might somehow make them disappear.

At that, you audibly laughed, drawing the adeptus' gaze back up to you. "Well, it is a harbor! Don't worry, I doubt you'll get recognized or anything like that!"

"That's not what I'm worried about..." For a man pretending to be so cold, his eyes certainly were expressive. Was that, guilt?

"Xiao... you know that you're not going to hurt anyone just by being here right?"

Bingo. Xiao flinched slightly. "... you don't understand my debt... It is supposed to be my burden to handle and yet, with all these people here..."

A soft smile made its way onto your face as you slowly reached out, wrapping your fingers lightly around Xiao's wrist. His initial reaction was to try to pull away immediately, though when your grip remained even then, he relaxed slightly. "Xiao, you're not going to hurt these people. Think of it this way! If the one in a million happens and things do go south, I'm here to take care of things right?"

Xiao was silent and for a moment, you were sure that he was about to drop all of this and make his way immediately back to Wangshu Inn.

"... alright, I trust you."

Oh. You hoped the grin that had spread over your face covered the way your cheeks and ears were heating up like a furnace. "Alright then, let's go!" With the hand still around his wrist, you gently tugged him forward, pulling the two of you across the bridge and into Liyue Harbor.

~~~

As much as you wanted Xiao to try out Liyue Cuisine, you were a bit worried. After all, the only thing you had seen the adeptus eat was Almond Tofu, a steep departure from the spicy seafood cuisine that was served in Liyue Harbor. You brought the issue up to Xiao and his reply was a bit unexpected

"I said I wanted to learn about your world didn't I? If this is the food you are always speaking about, then I must too experience it to be able to relate to you."

As it turned out, you were correct in being worried because for all his strength as a Yaksha, Xiao had the worst spice tolerance you had ever seen. All it took was a single bite of Xiangling's signature Wanmin Restaurant Boiled Fish and he was coughing his lungs out. Were those... tears in the corner of his eyes?

"I'm so sorry Xiao, I had no idea it would be like this!" you sputtered, waving down the nearest waiter with urgency. "Could we please get a plate of Almond Tofu! And some more water!"

"I'm fine-" Xiao hacked out, evidently not okay. "Just... give me a moment..."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault! I should have given more care to your tastes!"

"I told you didn't I! I want to experience what you talk about, and if it ends like this, then that's fine as well," he managed between coughs and if he wasn't currently hacking his lungs out in front of you, you thought you might have tackled him in a hug.

When the Almond Tofu arrived, despite all this protests, Xiao seemed intensely happy and gulped it down within minutes. Eager to put the meal behind you, you paid quickly and pulled Xiao back out onto the street with you.

The next few hours were honestly a blur. There was just so much to show Xiao. Despite his initial reluctance to make conversation with the people wandering about, you found that it was actually rather easy to get him to talk. All it took was a sentence or two on your part to draw him into conversation and he would always grudgingly join in. There was often a scoff involved, or a "humans..." muttered under his breath, but at least he was talking to people!

He also didn't seem to want you two to leave. Every time you thought that you may be running out of places, he would make some innocuous remark about a landmark you had mentioned or a certain stall that you frequented that he hadn't seen so far. If you didn't know better, you'd think that he was looking for excuses for the two of you to remain in the harbor.

Not that you were complaining of course, especially since your special plan for the day hinged on you two remaining there until the sun set. Finally, it seemed as though you two had exhausted your sightseeing list, you look a seat on the steps overlooking the harbor, sitting in comfortable silence.

Despite his apparent lack of love for human food, you had managed to get him to try a certain pulled cotton candy dessert. He must have absolutely loved it because he had gone back for seconds about three times before you managed to pull him away from the stall.

"Such a sweet tooth!" you had teased, bringing a slight blush to his cheeks as he took another bite.

"... shut up it tastes... nice."

The sun had gone down a little while ago and from where you sat, you could see the edge of the wharf, as well as the activity you had been planning the entire day. Hopefully Xiao would like it... You were't sure though if it would be particularly to his taste. After all, he had refused to come to the Lan-

"Are you ready to head back now?" Xiao questioned, drawing you from your thoughts.

You shook your head, perhaps a little to enthusiastically based on the questioning look he aimed at you. "N-No not yet! There's just one more thing I think we should do before we leave!"

Xiao shrugged at that, though the way he was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye was a dead giveaway that he was at least a little interested. "Well, let's get it over with then."

Beaming over at him, you stood, making your way over to the edge of the wharf. There was a woman you had never met before standing there, a pair of glowing lanterns in her hands. As she saw you, she gave you a warm smile before extending the lanterns to you. With them in your possession, she bowed quickly and turned to leave. Xiao's curious gaze followed her as she retreated, though his attention turned back to you and your lanterns quickly.

"What are these for?" he questioned.

"They're lanterns! You weren't here during the Lantern Rite, but people release them with their loved ones! You're supposed to make wishes on them too!" Your tone is a little too peppy, but you can't help it. Not being able to get Xiao to come to the Lantern Rite had felt like a genuine failure to you, mainly because there was nothing you wanted more than to just see him happy. If he left now too...

Xiao aimed a skeptical look at you before examining his lantern. "I don't see how this contraption has the power to grant human wishes..."

You giggled at that. "It's just a tradition! Don't think about it too much, and just make a wish!"

Xiao was still staring at you rather blankly. "How do I?"

"Well, close your eyes. Then think of your wish and when you're done with that, just release the lantern!"

You closed your eyes as though to demonstrate, though they opened quickly once more to glance over at Xiao the moment you knew he was no longer looking at you.

Despite his hesitation, the adeptus went along with your instructions. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes, holding the lantern between the palms of his hands as he angled his face up to the sky. You weren't sure if it was just you, but there was something different about him right now, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"I just want you to know-" When he started talking, you almost dropped your lantern in shock. Immediately, you closed your own eyes, hoping that he hadn't noticed your staring. "I... I saw part of the Lantern Rite this year."

"Really?"

"You were speaking so highly of it, so I watched from a distance... The lanterns drifting into the sky looked so beautiful, even from far away and... and I wished that I had gone with you."

Your eyes opened on instinct as you turned back to him, mouth agape. Xiao's eyes however, remained closed as he continued to speak softly into the sky.

"Thank you, for this." The words were so soft you may have missed them if you weren't so captivated. It was then that Xiao softly let go of his lantern, finally opening his eyes to watch it drift gently up into the night sky.

You couldn't drag your gaze away from him for a moment, but when you did, you let out a soft sigh before releasing your own lantern.

"These are called Xiao Lanterns you know. They are beauty and hope and a light in the darkness. I wonder who they might be inspired by..."

If you didn't know the man next to you, you might have thought that the small sound he just let out had a hint of a laugh to it.

"Perhaps one day, you'll be able to meet him. Someone worthy of such a legacy."

As the Xiao Lanterns floated up into the heavens, the two of you sat the the edge of the pier, watching them. Eventually, you broke the silence with a soft question.

"So tell me, how did you like my world? Did you enjoy experiencing all that you've heard about?"

Xiao sighed, though the sound lacked the usual grit. "Today was certainly... interesting. I suppose humans and their strange rituals aren't always terrible..."

"You could just say you had fun you know?" you giggled as you nudged him gently, bringing a slight glare to his face as he pulled away first before taking his turn to pointedly nudge you back.

"Well, some humans are quite adept at ruining the mood..."

You laughed at that, turning your face to the sky as you basked in this moment. "That, we are!"

note: he's so precious. i just want him to be happy...

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fic #genshin fic #xiao #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader

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antariies · 3 years

Text

Visions of the Past: The Departing

Summary: The Commander never told Braham about their first death at the hands of Balthazar. Years later, he finds out in the worst way possible.

Characters: Pact Commander, Braham, Aurene, Balthazar

Notes: Commander’s POV (2nd-person); set before Jormag Rising; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; 5.6k words, CW: blood, gore, character death, anxiety attack; the departing is and will always be one of my favorite instances and it sucks that we never got an emotional confrontation about it between braham and the commander. hope i did it justice. enjoy!

—

“Commander, can I use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” Braham asks one day, apropos of nothing, sliding into the seat across from you.

You slam your glass of water back down onto the table with a loud smack, screwing your eyes shut and leaning forward as you choke on your drink. After a few seconds of intense coughing and waving away Braham’s apologies, you finally clear your throat enough to be able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, squinting at him in confusion, “you want to… what?”

“Uh, use the Scrying Pool to view your memories?” he repeats, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Only with your permission, of course.”

“…Ah,” you nod slowly, letting the question fully sink in. You bring the glass of water to your lips again as you search for the right words. “That’s…”

A complete and total invasion of my privacy, your mind supplies helpfully.

“...a strange request,” you mutter into the cup. The only thing stopping you from shutting him down on the spot is the fact that it’s Braham. He wouldn’t ask this of you without a damn good reason. “And you want to see them because…?”

At this, Braham lights up, squaring his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what the lost Spirits said. About how I need to be a better leader if I’m going to beat Jormag, y’know? So I figured, since you’re the best leader I know-”

You can’t help the fond eye roll you give him.

“-if I got to experience some of your memories, then maybe I could learn from them,” he finishes, nodding once in determination.

“It’s definitely an unconventional way of learning,” you remark coolly, resting your chin on your hand as you level an even, challenging stare at him. You’ve cowed countless soldiers and politicians with this look alone, honed to terrifying perfection over the years.

Undaunted, Braham sets his jaw and meets your gaze dead on. “I know nothing can replace first-hand experience, but I think this would be a good way for me to practice without, uh,” his eyes flicker down for just a moment and he swallows hard. “Without the risk.”

You quirk an eyebrow at that, but you don’t miss the way he absently fiddles with something small and wooden in his free hand and-

Oh, you think, recognizing it and finally understanding. Oh.

It’s been months, but the memory of your first day in Bjora Marches stays fresh in your mind.

It had been freezing cold in the barracks of Jora’s Keep when you and Braham had gotten locked in, but the ice that froze in your veins when you watched him stumble upon the mangled body of his former guildmate was colder still.

“Alva,” he’d whispered, stricken with grief as he sank to his knees beside her body.

“I’m sorry, Braham.” The words sat like ash on your tongue, tasting the same as the first time you had ever offered your condolences and every time after that. You never really got used to it.

“Garm… used to rest his head in her lap.” Braham had pulled her head into his lap then, smoothing her hair out of her face with the utmost care. You turned away to give him as much privacy you could, but the dead silence in the barracks meant you heard every hitched breath and muttered prayer to the Spirits. When he returned to your side after a few minutes, he was clutching a small wooden figurine.

“It’s Wolf,” he explained softly when he caught you looking, “Alva made one for each of us, but I gave mine back when I left, I… I had no idea she’d kept it all this time…”

He carries it everywhere now: a constant, physical reminder of his failures as a leader and as a friend.

You know the feeling all too well.

Unbidden, an acrid tidal wave of bitter jealousy swells up inside you. It’s not fair. You never had the chance to practice leadership because you were thrust into your rank, your title, in the middle of a war. You had no one to guide you. Every lesson you learned was written in blood and people paid for your mistakes with their lives.

The wave reaches a roaring apex, then swiftly crashes and breaks against the rocks of your guilt and better judgement.

It’s not his fault, you tell yourself, that you were given the short end of the stick. If you had had the opportunity to practice, to learn from someone else’s mistakes without risking the lives of anyone under your command, wouldn’t you have taken it too?

Of course, you think, picturing the Pact Memorial that still stands in Caer Aval to this day, of course I would have.

“Of course,” you say, gaze and voice gentle, “I think that’s a great idea, Braham.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting- wait, what? Really?” He stares at you incredulously, the beginnings of a disbelieving grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I honestly didn’t think you would say yes so-”

“Well, now that you mention it,” you start mildly, before stifling a snort and shaking your head in amusement as he scrambles to retract his words. “Yes, Braham, I’m sure. C’mon, let’s go before I actually start having second thoughts.”

As he helps you clean up the remains of your lunch, you can’t stop your mind from dredging up every embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in the past eight years. You shut your eyes in a fruitless attempt at blocking out the memories, a long-suffering sigh trapped in your lungs.

It’s okay, you reassure yourself, you’ll be in control of the memories you show him. What could go wrong?

“Hey, Aurene- oh. She’s not here.” Braham says, stopping at the entrance of Aurene’s lair.

You walk past him, a smile stretching across your face as you look around the room. It teems with plant life. Curtains of ivy hang from the tops of the room’s arches while giant Maguuma lilies and dozens of other flowers grow out of cracks in the floor, reaching toward the sunbeams that stream in from the open skylight. Clusters of Aurene’s iridescent Brand crystals cover the walls, filling in the holes left by years of neglect.

In the middle of the room, the Scrying Pool gives off a faint light of its own, its waters swirling lazily as you approach. The spot where Aurene normally sits is vacant, though, just like Braham said. Closing your eyes, you reach out to the bond you share with her. It hums at the edge of your consciousness, quiet and comfortable when you’re not actively talking to her. You give the slightest tug.

‘Just checking in. Where are you?’

A few moments later, a familiar sight flashes in your mind. A vast stormy sky, filled with blue-tinted thunderclouds and stretching as far as the eye can see. The Mists.

Then, Aurene’s voice in your head, clear as day. ‘Trying to figure out what Jormag is up to. So far… I still have no idea.’

“Are you talking to Aurene?” Braham asks. You nod. “Tell her I said hi!”

‘Braham says hi.’ you relay.

‘Hello, Braham!’

‘Alright, we’ll let you get back to it.’ You smile inwardly, a rush of affection warming your chest. ‘Be safe. I love you.’

‘Love you too, Champion.’ Aurene croons happily in your head.

“Aurene says hello,” you say, opening your eyes. “She’s keeping an eye out for Jormag in the Mists right now. I don’t think she’ll be back for a while.”

“Oh,” Braham says, slight disappointment coloring his tone, “Does that mean we can’t use the pool?”

“I’m not sure. Wouldn’t hurt to try, though,” you answer, walking over to it. Kneeling as close to the edge as you dare, you lean over to look into the waters. Your reflection wobbles with every ripple from the pool’s constant, self-sustained swirling and you study your distorted face until you catch some movement above your mirrored shoulder that doesn’t seem to be from the pool.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn lightly, tossing a flat, unimpressed glare over your own shoulder.

Braham, to his credit, looks sorry for maybe half a second before grinning in a way that is decidedly far from it. Still, he concedes and backs away from you with his hands slightly up in surrender. “Oh, like you wouldn’t do the same?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I would never,” you lie, turning back to the pool so he doesn’t see your smile. You make a note to push him into it at the first chance you get. “I’ve used the Scrying Pool a few times now and I can tell you that it’s way easier to view your own memories rather than someone else’s. Feels different too.”

When you first used the Scrying Pool to view Ryland’s memories, it wasn’t anything like Kas’ glamour during the All-Legion Rally. You weren’t just wearing his face and spectating from inside his head, you were Ryland. You felt everything, including his thoughts and his emotions, as if they were your own. It had felt so real that after waking up, it took a few seconds for you to realize that you weren’t him. Aurene had to calm you down as you scrambled around for a flamesaw that was never yours and shouted for a warband you were never a part of.

You can only imagine the state you would have woken up in if you had overstayed your welcome in Ryland’s memories.

It was different with yours, though. Those were easier to fall into, like slipping into a dream, and you always woke up from those with complete clarity.

Speaking of your own memories…

“I think I know the perfect one to start with,” you say, dipping a hand into the pool and focusing on a memory you’ve already used it for. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to access a memory without Aurene here, never mind control it. You don’t even know if two people can go in together, or whose body Braham would end up in. So you start off easy. Something you both remember. The leather of Braham’s armor creaks as he settles down next to you and does the same. He watches on in awed silence as the water glows brighter, swirling faster and faster until a small whirlpool forms in the center and pulls at the lily pads closest to it.

A familiar darkness crowds the edge of your vision and you let yourself fall backwards into the memory.

It’s not hard to spot Braham when his blood-red hair contrasts so starkly against the bright, white snow that covers the land and comes down heavy from the sky.

That, and he’s also waving at you from where he stands outside the gates of Cragstead.

“Hey!” he greets once you’re in earshot, shouting over the wind, “Hey, thanks for coming.”

You glance around. “Just us, huh?”

Braham grimaces. “You heard what Brimstone and Whitebear said. I tried sending out notices too, but…” he shakes his head, determination hardening his features. “Nevermind that, we have to go. My friends are in there.”

Turning your eyes upwards, you catch sight of billowing plumes of dark smoke as they start to pour into the sky. A strong gust brings the stench downwind and both you and Braham wrinkle your noses in distaste at the same time.

“No time to waste,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

You tighten your grip on your weapons and follow closely behind Braham as he leads you through the driving snow to the heart of Cragstead, cutting a path through the strange alliance of Flame legion and dredge along the way.

This is an evacuation mission, first and foremost, you remind yourself. Your gaze sweeps over the empty lodges and homesteads, searching for people. It’s not so different from the evacuation missions you used to do with your order when Zhaitan was still alive and a threat, its Risen minions encroaching further and further into the homes of Tyria’s minor races.

You find the villagers soon enough, all rounded up into small groups in the center of the town and trapped inside shimmering domes of fire magic. An equal number of charr and dredge guard each dome, their mechanical weapons whirring and spitting the occasional flame.

Braham growls at the sight and hefts his mace, rolling his shoulders in anticipation.

“Wait,” you caution, throwing an arm out to stop him from charging in. “We can’t just rush in. We’re way outnumbered.”

“We took care of those other guys just fine,” he argues.

“Those were just stragglers we picked off,” you gesture at the domes scattered around. “Here? There’s a dozen of them and only two of us. We can’t take them all in an open fight-”

Braham makes a frustrated noise and you hold up your hand.

“-which is why we switch tactics,” you finish, flashing a sharp grin at him. “They haven’t noticed us yet. Here’s the plan.”

The thing is, you’re no stranger to being outnumbered. Your entire time in Orr was spent leading handfuls of people on high risk, high reward missions, after all. It was kind of your specialty.

So it’s with practiced ease and calm authority that you explain your plan now, laying out a classic divide-and-conquer strategy that’s gotten you and your small squads through countless skirmishes against all odds.

It’s a flawless ambush, all things considered.

You and Braham hit them hard and quick, fighting in tandem as you push the offensive and give them no time to react or warn their allies before you cut them down. And with the help of his protective guardian magic, you two manage to free everyone without a single casualty.

“Where are the others?” Braham asks immediately as he helps an older man to his feet.

Despite his clearly injured arm, the man pulls him into a quick hug before answering. “They were chased up the mountain, to the shrine. I wasn’t- I wasn’t fast enough…”

“It’s okay, Haslo, I’ll go. Will you be-”

“We’ll be fine, thanks to you.” Haslo claps him on the back. “You and your friend be careful!”

When Braham looks over at you, you nod. Of course I’m coming with you.

The trip up to the shrine is shorter than you expected, but you think that might have something to do with the lack of flaming charr or dredge along the way. That only puts you more on edge and you ready your weapons, wary.

You don’t hesitate for a second at the entrance of the cave, charging in to catch the massive Flame legion charr and his grunts off guard. You’ve only known Braham for a few days and fought alongside him for less, but you two fall into a steady rhythm almost instantly, barely having to exchange words. You make quick work of the goons, letting him take care of the hulking charr. Braham doesn’t even let him get a taunt out, stunning him with a shield bash before swinging his mace into the charr’s snout with a brutal, deadly uppercut, spraying blood across the cavern walls.

With the threat taken care of for the time being, you and Braham free the rest of the villagers and escort them down the mountain, dispatching any stray Flame legion or dredge who tried to escape in all the chaos. While there weren’t any casualties, fortunately, there are still plenty injured, so while he talks to some of the other villagers, you help tend to the wounded as best you can. They have a long walk to Hoelbrak ahead of them, and you don’t envy them the trip.

You’re tying off a bandage when you hear him call your name.

“There you are,” he says, stopping in front of you. “Hey, thanks for everything. Really, I mean, I don’t know if things would’ve turned out as well as they did if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Glad I could help,” you say, tilting your head at him. “What are you going to do now?”

“After we get everyone to Hoelbrak, I’m gonna find out where all these Flame legion and dredge are holed up so we can track them down.” He pauses, then rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “Uh, that is, if you still wanna come along…?”

You smile and cross your arms. “Guess I’ll see you soon, then?”

The pleased grin Braham gives you is warmer than any hearth and twice as bright.

“See you soon!”

“Oh no,” Braham mutters, the first thing you hear as you blink away the last of the memory. “Oh, Spirits, noooo.”

“Something wrong?” you ask, keeping your voice light even as you eye him up and down in concern. It was his first time using the Scrying Pool, after all. Had it affected him differently?

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine, I just… I just can’t believe I used to wear my hair like that.”

You keep a straight face for an admirable three whole seconds before bursting into snickers. When Braham groans and buries his face in his hands, you only laugh harder.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, smiling, “I thought it suited you.”

He glowers at you. “You’re just saying that.”

You make a non-committal noise and wiggle your hand in a “so-so” gesture. He groans again, falling backwards onto the floor.

“That was really cool,” he says after a while, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. “Being in your head, I mean. I felt so… in control the whole time. Like I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” Leaning backwards on your hands, you tip your head back and close your eyes. “You were impatient—well, you still kind of are—but you handled yourself better than some soldiers twice your age. And you’ve only gotten better since then. Give yourself a little more credit, Braham.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him flush at the praise, sitting up abruptly.

“Thanks,” he coughs into his fist, fighting a grin. “So, uh, any more memories you feel like sharing?”

You hum. “Several, actually. Ready to go again?”

You, grabbing the handles of a cannon with both hands and holding on for dear life as The Glory of Tyria lurches to the side, sending Destiny’s Edge, Pact soldiers, and Risen alike sprawling flat on the deck. When the airship finally rights itself, you waste no time, bracing your shoulder against the cannon and shoving hard until you have Zhaitan directly in its sights. The Elder Dragon is on the verge of death, pieces of its own body sloughing off itself as it clings desperately to the side of the tower. You take a deep, steadying breath and fire.

You, the only thing standing in between a crowd of fleeing civilians and a swarm of cutthroat Aetherblade pirates as they drop down from their airships. Lion’s Arch can be rebuilt, but lives can’t be replaced. You do a quick headcount, zero in on the weakest-looking one, and leap into the fray.

You, tracking down your teammates one by one as you tear through the dark, vine-twisted labyrinth under the Silverwastes, an undying behemoth of a Mordrem wolf hot on your heels. You lead them all safely through the maze, driven by the fierce desire to protect your friends. You will not lose anyone today.

You, the legendary Pact Commander, at your best.

After a few back-to-back trips down memory lane, you both decided to take a short break. For his part, Braham had opted to swing his legs over the edge of the pool, dipping his feet in. When he asked whether or not it was okay to do so, you just shrugged and told him you had already cannonballed into the water before. Multiple times.

“How are you feeling? No headaches or anything?” you ask after a few minutes of rest.

“Nope. I do feel pretty commander-y, though.”

You snort. “Commander-y?”

“Mhm. I’ve been in your head too long. Any second now, I’m gonna start spouting a bunch of your expert advice.” Braham clears his throat and puts on an exaggerated voice that you swear sounds nothing like you. “‘Remember, it doesn’t matter how long the hog’s been dead. It doesn’t matter that it’s been sitting in a toxic cloud. You can always try to eat it.’”

You roll your eyes and swipe your hand through the water, splashing him. “Okay, that’s it, I’m revoking your pool privileges. We’re done here.” You pause, expression turning thoughtful. “Actually, I think we are done here. I don’t think I have any more memories to show you. None that would help, anyway.”

“Hmm, what about your time in Elona? I wasn’t there for that.”

“Uh, you definitely were,” you say, shooting a quizzical smile at him. “Or do you not remember storming Joko’s palace with me?”

“No, no,” Braham laughs, waving dismissively, “I meant before that. I wasn’t there for… ugh, what’s his name again? Balthazar?”

For a brief, blissful moment, you only recall the part where you killed him.

Then your free hand flies to your chest on instinct, ghosting over a wound that no longer exists.

“What about him?” you ask, a little louder than necessary. You cringe inwardly, but Braham doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well, everyone told me you somehow took control of Joko’s Awakened army and got them to fight on your side,” he shakes his head, chuckling. “I didn’t believe them at first, but that sounds exactly like something only you could pull off.”

You can hardly hear yourself over the frenetic pounding of your pulse in your ears. “Did they… tell you anything else?”

“Not really,” Braham frowns, finally turning to face you. “Why, is there- woah, hey, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Commander?” His voice spikes with worry.

Swallowing hard past the lump in your throat, you try again. Still nothing.

You’re so preoccupied with trying to force yourself to speak that you don’t even realize your other hand is still in the pool until you feel the tug of an old memory on your consciousness.

Ripping your hand out of the glowing water in a panic, you can only stare in horror as that does nothing to stop the ancient, powerful magic from pulling you helpless back into the dark.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It doesn’t.

You throw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging a fireball as it blazes past your head. Ducking behind a crumbling pillar, you press your back up against the stone and try to catch your breath.

You’ve bought yourself some time, at least.

This is a fight you know you can’t win, but the walls of flames surrounding the spire prevent your escape, so your only hope is to keep Balthazar distracted until reinforcements arrive.

“Any second now,” you mutter, and you don’t know if you’re trying to reassure or convince yourself.

You grit your teeth as another wave of pain wracks your body. There’s a nasty gash in your side, larger and deeper than the rest of your cuts, and it oozes sluggishly, soaking your armor in blood.

It’s bearable for now, but you can’t afford to be slowed down.

“Are you hiding, Commander?” Balthazar sneers, “How pathetic.”

Your answer to that is to dart out from behind the pillar, launching a flurry of attacks along his flank and back. When he twists around to send a volley of fireballs your way, you just tuck yourself into a neat dodge-roll, avoiding them all with ease. If you wince and stumble on the landing, you pretend not to notice and hope he didn’t either.

“Aw, you missed!” you taunt, sounding way braver than you feel, “How pathetic!”

Balthazar’s face contorts in fury. “Enough!” he shouts, and both the flames surrounding him and the spire seem to burn hotter than ever.

Before you can react, the ground beneath your feet erupts in a column of fire and you scream as your world is engulfed in a white-hot inferno. When the initial blinding agony finally passes, you find yourself sprawled out on the ground, pointed stones digging into your back and your weapons flung too far out of your reach.

Get up.

You only manage to twitch your fingers.

Get up. Now.

Your throat burns raw. When you try to speak, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a pained whimper.

GET. UP. BEFORE BALTHAZAR-

You sense Aurene before you see her.

“Ah, the scion, finally come here to defend her champion.”

Finally…?

It clicks. Your heart stops.

Balthazar’s been toying with you this whole fucking time.

It’s impossible for you to form words, let alone make any sort of loud noise, so you try to warn Aurene through your shared bond instead, panic rising with every passing moment that she doesn’t respond.

‘GET AWAY,’ you practically roar at her, ‘TRAP. IT’S A TRAP. YOU’RE FLYING RIGHT INTO A TRAP, TURN AROUND, PLEASE-’

And Aurene roars right back at you. There are no words you can hear—you don’t think she’s old enough for that yet—but she can convey her feelings through the bond and right now she’s drowning out your desperate warnings with them. She refuses to abandon you. You are her guardian and her champion and she loves you and you promised over and over to protect her so she promised the same and weren’t you the one who taught her about loyalty in the first place?

It takes one self-sacrificing idiot to know one. You would laugh if you weren’t so fucking terrified of losing her.

Your vision swims and you only catch glimpses of Aurene’s skirmish. She’s a bright blue blur, swerving expertly in the air as she dodges fireballs and lets loose her devastating dragon breath every time Balthazar tries to swat her out of the sky. Snarling, he launches some sort of phantasmal chains at her and-

No.

No, no, no, nonono-

“Aurene!” you scream. The exertion sends you into a coughing fit, but you don’t care.

You’re crying now, too. You don’t care.

Balthazar is saying something, but you stopped listening to him ages ago. It’s a monumental effort just to crane your head towards Aurene, your vision clearing long enough to see her staring at you, eyes blown wide in fear as terror rolls off her in waves.

She tries to apologize and you rush to soothe her.

‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ you reassure, ‘you have nothing to be sorry for, I love you so much, it’s not your fault, never your fault.’

Maybe you’re projecting a little. Whatever.

You only stop when a giant metal boot steps squarely into your line of sight, blocking her from view. You glance up.

Balthazar towers over you, his giant, flaming greatsword hovering menacingly by his side.

The fear that lances through your gut is primal.

You can’t die yet. Not here. Not now.

He notices the way your wide eyes trace his sword and bares his teeth in a humorless grin. Oh, he’s enjoying this, relishing the power he has over you.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight, given your reputation,” Balthazar remarks casually, circling you. With a lazy wave of his hand, his sword floats over and suspends itself in midair right above your chest.

Your already labored breathing dissolves into short, shallow gasps.

You can’t die. You’re not ready.

He lets the sword hover for a few more seconds before grabbing the hilt with both hands, raising it higher over your body. His face twists with hate, eyes blazing molten gold as they bore hungry and vengeful into yours.

You don’t want to die.

The edge of the blade glints orange from an indifferent sunset.

Please.

There’s a sickening crunch as he swings it down hard into your chest, punching through your armor and sternum and crushing most of your ribcage in the process. Then the blade severs your spine and you lose all feeling in your lower body.

Distantly, you think you hear someone scream, high-pitched and anguished. Was that Aurene? Or Taimi? Maybe both.

Certainly not you, although you’d tried to. What remains of your lungs are filled with more blood than air at this point, and it pours out of your mouth when you open it.

I’m sorry, you think, but you can’t remember what you’re apologizing for. Or who you’re apologizing to.

You’re so tired of blood. Tired of pain. Tired of feeling.

Everything hurts.

You wish it would stop.

It does.

The only reason you don’t wake up choking back a scream and clutching your chest like Braham does is because you’ve relived this in your nightmares far too many times for it to rip that kind of reaction out of you anymore. Still, it takes you longer than normal to push yourself into a sitting position and even longer for your pulse to even out. Fighting the urge to curl up and disappear from the world, you rush over to where Braham sits hyperventilating.

“Hey, Braham, hey, look at me, you’re okay, you’re okay. You’re here, you’re alive,” you reassure, and you’re surprised at how calm you sound. You work on getting him to match your breaths, counting out every inhale and exhale.

“Oh, Spirits,” he chokes out after his breathing steadies, his voice nearly cracking as tears prick in the corners of his eyes, “that was… how- h-how did you survive that?”

Your mouth shuts with an audible click. Biting your tongue, you look to the side, carefully avoiding eye contact.

You could lie.

Lie and tell him the airship made it just in time and the medics brought you back from the brink with a miracle. Another close call, but you pulled through like you always do. Spare him the pain, the grief. It’s been years, and there are more important things to worry about right now. It would save you both so much trouble.

“Commander?” he asks softly, earnestly.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I didn’t,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

Deafening silence, for a beat.

Two.

Three.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Braham says eventually. When you finally bring yourself to look at him again, his brows are furrowed in confusion. He stares at you in concern, scrutinizing. “You’re… definitely still alive.”

“I sure am.” Neither of you miss the tired bitterness that bleeds into your sarcasm. You wince and sigh, running a hand over your face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s a long story.”

And to this day, you still haven’t told anyone all the details. You’re not sure if you ever will.

“Who knows?” Braham asks.

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, Rytlock, Canach, and Kas were there when it happened. Taimi… overheard.” You don’t know which is worse: being the one to hear you die, or finding your body after the fact.

They’re not the only ones who know, but they’re the only ones who matter. Even then, you swore them all to secrecy.

“Taimi called me around that time,” he says.

Your eyes widen. “Did she…?”

Braham shakes his head. “She was crying too hard,” he says, speaking slowly as he focuses on remembering. “She said something about you, but she couldn’t get the words out. When I tried to ask her what was wrong, she just hung up on me. Then she called me back a day later to say it was nothing and to pretend it never happened.”

“Huh,” you say, because you can’t think of anything else.

“I always wondered what she was trying to tell me,” Braham smiles sadly at you. “Guess I know now.”

You swallow hard. “You’re… taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

“I’m not the one who died,” he shrugs, even as his hand comes up to brush across his chest absentmindedly.

But you know how it felt, you think, How I felt.

The thought hangs in the air, unspoken.

“Are you okay?” Braham asks after a while.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, automatically, “I’m fine.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Are you sure?” He looks pointedly down and you follow his gaze.

Your hands are shaking where they rest in your lap. Gritting your teeth, you clench them into fists. They don’t stop.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, more to yourself than anything. “I’m fine.”

The shaking travels up your arms until your shoulders are trembling as if under an invisible weight. This is so embarrassing, so humiliating. You’re pathetic. You-

You don’t resist when Braham pulls you into a warm embrace.

“It’s been years,” you mutter, blinking rapidly against the itchy heat behind your eyes. “I thought I’d be over it by now.”

“It always hits you when you least expect it,” Braham says quietly, “I’m sorry, Commander.”

The noise that comes out of you is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. You know he knows you hate pity, but this is the farthest thing from it. “When did you get so wise?” you tease.

“Learned it from you,” he says, voice tinged with pride, and now it’s your turn to flush. He squeezes you tightly once before letting you go. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah,” you say, and this time you mean it. You breathe in deep, feeling lighter than you have in ages. “I’m okay. Thank you, Braham.”

“Glad to hear it,” he grins, and promptly shoves you right into the Scrying Pool.

His boisterous laughter echoes off the walls and drowns out your indignant spluttering. When you pull yourself out of the pool, drenched and dripping water everywhere, he scrambles to his feet and breaks into a dead sprint down the hall.

You chase after him, smiling, and leave your memories behind you.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 fan submission #braham eirsson #pact commander #me finally posting another commander pov fic after three years: hiiii.... how yall doin....#anyway this fic has been rattling around in my noggin for eight months now. here u go take it from me #i will take a hammer and FIX the commander and braham dynamic #2k4s gc saw it firstttt #thank u pals for beta-reading ilu #if u enjoyed this fic! would u pls consider reblogging? :3c #my writing

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 1)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: ~ Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Pining, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have a few days off, so we're back to our (semi) regularly scheduled programming with this fic! I really hope you enjoy it; lmk what you think :)

PS ~ Once again, I had to split it into two parts to appease the Tumblr Overlords.

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 2 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

1.) A Day In Class

Where does true beauty come from?

Is it strictly based in someone's DNA, rooted entirely in the attractiveness of their features? Or is deeper than that; does it extend from their soul? The very essence of stardust and personality that makes them them? Is it in how they interact with others? How they carry themselves?

You, being the wannabe philosopher that you are, love hearing people's answers to those questions. Every response is unique in its own way, altered depending on the person asked, and you find that to be one of humanity's most wonderful qualities. Like snowflakes, we're all different; as such is our definition of beauty. It lies in the eye of the beholder, subjective in its nature, and you find that comforting. Just think: if 99% of the world's population found you unattractive, 78,000,000 would beg to differ.

Though, for one person, you're sure those rules don't apply. She's objectively beautiful, and no one even attempts to pretend otherwise.

Who, you may ask? Kim Jisoo, of course -- head of your school's student council, resident girl next door, and keeper of your heart. She's poised in every way, and refined to the point that you question if you're even deserving of knowing her. Humor and kindness radiate from her no matter where she goes, so it's really no surprise that so many people love her.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to look at your best friend. "Yo, Y/N. What did you get for number 32?" Jeong asks from his seat in the row directly behind you, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Your history professor likely wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted during his lecture, so you choose to show him your answer instead of responding out loud.

Jeong thanks you and continues to work on the activity you finished nearly 15 minutes ago, leaving you to half-heartedly listen to your professor. You're a good student, but even you have a limit to how much monotonous speaking you can handle in one sitting. As his words drone on, you roll your neck -- intending for the action to relieve some of the tension in your aching muscles; you're in for a surprise, however, when you lock eyes with none other than Jisoo herself. She offers a warm smile and wave, and the innocent actions send swarms of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. After sitting there for a moment, dumbstruck by her beauty, you snap to and return the gesture, making her giggle quietly.

Huh. So that's what angels sound like, then.

She turns back to her work after a minute, flipping the page every so often as she follows along with the lesson. You take note of how her eyes dart across the materials laid out on her desk, how her fingers mindlessly flirt with the edge of her sleeve in contemplation when she gets to a question that stumps her.

Never have you ever found yourself in such inner turmoil before. The sight before you begs to be seen -- to be admired -- but class continues on. As much as you try to fight it, your resolve eventually crumbles; foreign concepts now falling on fully deaf ears, you allow yourself to be entranced.

2.) Out In The Square

A Few Hours Later

Throngs of people stretch out before you, everyone making their way to various parts of campus as the blazingly hot sun beats down on them. Some run like their lives depend on it -- likely having overslept or missed campus transit -- while others take their time, catching up with friends and gossiping all the while. The soft pfft of sprinklers set up across the sections of lawn around you can be heard, going off every so often, and occasionally they're followed by the shouts of some unfortunate people getting soaked.

"You're so lucky, Y/N," Jeong groans from behind you. A grimace sits on his face as he flips through the pages of his Trigonometry book, looking for the reference graphs again. "No more classes for the rest of the week and you don't have any more assignments to finish? Remind me again how to become a teacher's pet, please." You roll your eyes with an amused smile, leaning back on your elbows to talk to him.

"I'm not a teacher's pet, Jeong. I just do my work on time instead of partying every night." He picks up a leftover piece of bread from the picnic basket that sits to his right and tosses it at you in retaliation to your little remark.

"I don't care what you say, those parties are always epic. One of these days I'll convince you to come along."

You shake your head, knowing there's no way you'd willingly attend one of them. From his stories, all those "epic" nights consist of is ridiculously drunken beer pong, sweaty people doing jello shots, and regrets.

"Not in a million years, loser." You say adamantly, not letting him trick himself into believing he's capable of swaying you.

With one last muttered phrase of, "we'll see about that," he returns to his studies, and you turn your attention elsewhere.

Scattered light filters in through the leaves of the tree you're sitting under, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as your eyes scan across the crowd again. The sight brings to mind an idea that always fascinates you: everyone you meet is busy creating their own stories, writing and rewriting new possibilities and endings for themselves with each new choice they make. You can hear snippets of their conversations -- see instances of some having their best days while others are living through their worst -- and it really puts things into perspective. Although we may appear as side characters in those books of life that others are writing for themselves, we have no idea what they're going through at any given moment. So, you believe, that makes it all the more important to leave a positive impact on them; whether it be a kind smile, holding the door, or even a simple compliment, you're determined to have your legacy be one rooted in kindness.

Speaking of kindness in human form…

There she is, you think to yourself, feeling that all too familiar pitter patter of your heart pick up. Jisoo exits Building C, where her latest lecture just ended, and rushes down the stairs with her books in her arms. She's studying to become an actress, as far as you know, and you can't help but smile at the thought; she'll make an amazing star someday.

You watch as she meets up with 3 other girls, whom you immediately recognize as Lisa, Rosé, and Jennie, and they eagerly bounce their way over to the refreshment truck that one of your school's clubs had been so considerate to hire. It's the perfect day for a cold treat, after all.

Jisoo's dark hair flows in the gentle breeze that rolls in, looking like silk as it rides the currents. She's gorgeous in every way, and you can't help but be smitten; besides, it's not like you're not alone in your pining. She practically has the entire student body wrapped around her finger.

"Y/N, don't forget to blink. You're staring pretty hard," Yuqi says, raising up onto her elbow beside Jeong. He laughs with her, but his eyes remain glued to the notebook paper he's scribbling his work onto.

Your eyes dart away following her statement, and you know you've been caught. "I thought you were asleep," you bite back, attempting to hide the blush of embarrassment that's quickly flooding to your cheeks.

"I was, but I guess my intuition as your best friend woke me up. It's my mission in life to tease you."

"So I've gathered," you sarcastically smile at each other, making stupid faces like always.

"You love me," she flips her hair over her shoulder, appearing self-assured with the smirk that tugs at her lips.

"Do I though? I don't know sometimes..." she socks you in the arm, making you chuckle.

"All jokes, babe. Don't pout," you pinch her cheek until she grins, and then she begins telling you all about the dream she just had.

----

Jisoo leads her gang over to one of the nearby tables, making sure to choose her seat strategically. A special someone caught her attention earlier, as they have from the moment she first laid eyes on them months ago, and she hasn't been able to fight the urge to admire them. She watches as they laugh along with something their friend said, tilting their head back as the cheerful noise rings out. She finds herself smiling along, imagining what it would be like to make them laugh like that; it's a uniquely wonderful sound, and she can't help but adore it.

They lean across the blanket they're sitting on and dig through a picnic basket, retrieving what seems to be a sandwich packaged up in plastic wrap. One of their friends exaggeratedly thanks them, tackling them to the ground in a messy hug with a shout of gratitude that even Jisoo can hear from across the square.

"Earth to Jisoo!" Jennie says, raising her voice slightly as she snaps her fingers in front of the unnie. The former jolts back to attention with a little jump, clearing her throat to gather her thoughts.

"You know, you could always go talk to him. I've heard he's sweet." She tells the other girl, noticing the look of longing that's befallen her features.

"Yeah, Joy has Art with him on Thursdays. I think his name's Jeong or something like that." Lisa butts in before taking another lick of her ice cream.

Despite being so smart, the girls are really oblivious sometimes; Jisoo wasn't looking at him at all. She was looking at you.

She doesn't know if now is the right time to tell them that, though. She hasn't officially come out to them, but she isn't afraid that they won't accept her -- she just wants that moment to be special, and sweating in the middle of the campus square doesn't seem like the golden opportunity that she's been hoping for.

"Just eat your treats, knuckleheads." She concludes, taking a spoonful of the shaved ice she opted for instead of ice cream. The truck had multiple types of treats, with all kinds of different toppings and flavorings lining the walls.

"Okay…" Rosé trails off before adding, "but don't say we didn't try to help when you start wishing you had said something later." Jisoo uses her spoon to lower the one that Rosie had raised accusingly at her, reassuring the girl that she'd be fine.

She knows it's a lie, though; as the 4 of them later toss their trash in the bins and make their way to the student council room, Jisoo sneaks a last wistful glance at you, wishing she would've had the courage to start a conversation.

3.) One Step Closer

Friday, 1:34 PM -- A Few Days Later

"Hey, Minji. How many do we have today?" You wave at what kids have already been dropped off, your presence making their little faces light up with joy.

Your coworker responds from across the room, tossing a couple stray toys into their labeled baskets to keep the space tidy. "10 or so, I think. The last ones should be arriving soon." You nod and take off your coat, setting your things in one of the small cubbies against the wall just beyond the entrance.

"Y/N!" A small voice shouts from behind the counter, hidden from view. You smile deeply when you realize who it is, and you quickly dart around the corner to say hello. His chubby hands cover his mouth, but they do little in hiding his adorable grin. "Seungbum! How's my little munchkin?!" He squeals and runs into your arms, giggling loudly when you pick him up and spin him around. His dark hair sways from side to side with the movement, the slight waves sticking out in random places. A few seconds later, he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls back to look at you, settling into your secure hold.

"Can we play when Jia gets here? I promised her I'd show her the new trick I learned, but I wanna show you, too."

You smile at the sweet sentiment. "Of course, buddy. As long as you eat well at snack time, we can play however much you want." You raise an eyebrow at him, showing your authority, before saying, "I saw you put your veggies in your pocket last time and skip to dessert, so it'd better not happen again." He lowers his head after realizing he had been caught, and a hint of redness flushes his cheeks in embarrassment.

"Okay Y/N-yah."

You tickle him to make sure he knows you aren't mad at him, and soon he's laughing again. "Now, go wash your hands and get settled at the table, please."

"Yes ma'am." His tiny sneakers squeak against the floor as he races off towards one of the lowered sinks that borders the kitchen wall, and you shake your head with a smile.

Not even a second later, you feel a soft tug at your pant leg, and you turn around to find the source.

A head of brilliantly auburn hair is the first thing you see, and its shade compliments the child's outfit perfectly. "Hi sweetheart. Are you new?" You squat down to the young girl's level, noting how she shyly toys with her fingers as they rest in front of her. She nods, the movement so subtle that you almost don't notice it.

"My name's Y/N, and that awesome lady over there," you lean closer to her and point towards your coworker, "...is Minji. You can stay with us today, or you can play with the others, okay?" She nods again, her mannerisms letting you know just how shy she really is. Gently taking one of her hands, you hold it and look at her with a reassuring smile, asking, "Will you tell me your name?"

"I'm Aera." She meekly says, only maintaining eye contact for a second or two.

"That's a beautiful name," you compliment, seeing progress as she lightly smiles at your words. "And I love your bow," you add, touching the delicate material that rests near her ear, nestled into her straight locks. It has cherry blossoms and butterflies on it, all vibrant and neatly colored.

"Thank you, I picked it out myself." She perks up a bit now, raising her head to look at you with a proud smile. "Wow, really?" You put on an impressed expression, wanting to boost her confidence even more. "You'll have to help me choose one the next time I go shopping, then. You're great at it." The praise makes her chuckle, and her eyes squint into soft crescents in the process.

After stealing a glance at the table where everyone else has already gathered, you realize that they're waiting on you to start. "Alright, Aera, it's time to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to sit with me, or are you ready to be with the others?" You tilt your head to the side, asking the question softly so she doesn't feel overwhelmed. Having had this job for a while, you've gotten the hang of adjusting your behavior to put them at ease.

"With you," she says, growing a little timid again at the idea of mingling with them yet. "That's perfectly fine." You reassure her, smiling one more time before standing and leading her to the room. Her hand remains clutched in yours, wiggling around slightly from the height difference as she looks around.

"Who's ready for some snacks?" Minji asks the group, laughing when they all raise their hands and get excited. Their high pitched voices carry around the room as they discuss what foods they want to trade with each other, and soon everyone is happily munching away. You rub Aera's back sweetly as she eats some cucumber sticks, swinging her feet through the air beneath the short chair you retrieved from the table for her. She looks up into your eyes with a smile, melting your heart with the cuteness of her full cheeks. You squish them before turning away, feeling your 6th sense kick in as you scan your eyes across the rest of the group.

"Seungbum…" you warn, catching the way he's mischievously eyeing the carrots laid out before him on the table. He pokes at one of them and sighs, eventually giving in as he takes a hesitant bite of it. With some more convincing, he finishes the rest of the pack and gets started on his dessert.

----

Honestly, you feel sorry for the birds outside.

They must have had hundreds of mini heart attacks upon hearing the somehow earth-shattering roar of the 10 young kids, all blasting out the side door towards the playground. Some of them automatically race towards the swings or slides, while others approach the basket of toys and sports equipment. Aera, however, hangs back, her entire hand wrapped around just a few of your fingers. "What do you wanna do?" She shrugs, looking around at the different activities that the others are already starting.

"I can push you on the swings, or we could race. There're some monkey bars and a merry-go-round, too, that nobody's using right now." You suggest, hoping to catch her interest with one of them. Her attention snaps up to you at that last option, and she dramatically drops her jaw. "Did you say merry-go-round?" You nod with an amused grin, laughing when she lets out a cute noise of joy. After pointing her in the direction of it, she dashes off ahead of you and makes her way to it, only stopping to make sure you're still coming with her once she gets there.

"Hold on tight, little one." You advise, cheering when she giggles in anticipation. Her chuckles fill the airwaves as you spin the bar around, making sure not to pull too hard and make her too dizzy. You were once a kid, too, though, so you make it a point to add some serious speed every now and then to keep her entertained and happy. You remember playing on these all day when you were her age.

---

"Auntie!" Aera shrieks, excitedly thundering towards the fence that borders the playground. You finish cheering Seungbum on after watching his trick, grinning as he tries to flirt with Jia; she looks impressed. You turn around at Aera's commotion, feeling your eyes practically pop out of your head at who you see standing on the other side.

"How was your day, my love?" Jisoo asks sweetly, leaning over the metal divider to run a hand through her niece's hair lovingly. She still hasn't noticed your presence, and for that you don't know if you're relieved or saddened. Watching her interact with the young girl is quite adorable, though, and you're distracted from your personal gay panic for the time being.

"I've had so much fun. And Y/N-yah said she likes my hair clip! I told you this one was prettier than the one with just trees on it!" Aera says smugly, happy to have her decision pay off and prove her aunt wrong. Jisoo tenses up, not expecting to hear your name right now. Seeing that this is her first time picking Aera up, she had no idea you work at the daycare; though she'd be lying to say that it comes as a surprise -- you're a very warm person, so it's no wonder that you're good with kids.

As per Aera's request, you walk across the playground and join her in front of Jisoo. Now it's your turn to be shy; you sneak a glance at the student council president and immediately feel your cheeks heat up, so you busy yourself by patting Aera on the head. She hugs your leg and settles against your side, causing Jisoo to raise her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Y/N. She usually doesn't open up to new people very easily."

"Ah, I'm surprised that such a cool girl like her wanted to hang out with me." You tease, tickling her side lightly when she hides behind the material of your shirt. "Do you want to come in and see what she drew today? She's definitely skilled." You suggest, trying not to sound too hopeful as you muster up the courage to look at Jisoo again. She's already smiling at you, a soft sort of adoration shining in her eyes as they rake over your features. She accepts your offer, and you walk over to the gate to let her in. Aera demands that you carry her, so you scoop her up into your arms as you make your way back into the daycare center. Her head sits on your shoulder, and you can feel her playfully making faces at Jisoo the entire way; her tiny frame jolts with each loud giggle she lets out, and the sound makes you smile.

---

"Yeah, she was my sidekick for the day." You respond to Jisoo, continuing your conversation as you watch Aera remove her drawing from the cork board that she taped it to earlier. Displaying the kids' artwork is something that you advocated for when you first began working here, and you're so glad you did; they always get excited to share their works.

"She's a lucky girl, then." She says, doing her best to ignore the feeling of your eyes on her. Focusing on anything other than you is already hard enough for her, but she knows there'd be no hope left if she gives in now.

"Y/N helped me draw this. She doodled Dalgom in the corner," Aera cheerily says, breaking the slight tension in the air as she approaches the table. Most of the other kids have already been picked up, and Minji's watching the handful that haven't.

"It's not very good," you cringe, scratching the back of your neck. You've seen him a few times since the beginning of the year, whether it be on walks across campus with Jisoo, or perched on her desk during "bring your pet to class" day.

"It's adorable; Dalgomie will be honored when I show it to him." Jisoo says with a nod, shutting down your insecurities within a second. You fail to contain the laugh that slips past your lips, disbelief present in your voice as you ask, "You're going to show him?" She looks at you like you have 3 heads. "It would be a disgrace not to."

With a breathy chuckle, you say, "You're so strange. I like it, though."

Jisoo smiles at that, and the three of you discuss all of the fun things you did that day. Jisoo tells you about the classes she had to sit through, and even how she stepped in gum and had to borrow a pair of Rosé's shoes.

---

All good things must come to an end, though, and after about half an hour of talking, it was time to say goodbye.

You lead them out the door and down the sidewalk as per Aera's request, yet again (that child is basically a mini dictator at this point, but she's cute so she gets a free pass). As she rustles around her bag in search of her keys, Jisoo accidentally knocks her earbud case out, sending it tumbling to the ground. "Oh! Here, I'll grab it for you." You kindly offer, stepping past her to retrieve it from the grass. She takes it from you with a word of gratitude uttered in that angelic voice of hers, and you begin your goodbyes upon hearing Minji call your name.

"I'll see you around, Jisoo. And Aera, I expect to see you next week." You wiggle a finger at the little girl, donning a shocked expression when she pretends to bite it. "Can't you tell we're related?" Jisoo asks with a smile, ruffling her niece's hair. "The resemblance is uncanny," you laugh, watching as both of them join in with you.

"Y/N, come on!" Minji whines, sounding like a toddler herself. You initially go to brush off her request in order to spend a few more seconds with the two of them, but when she stands in the doorway, entering your line of sight, you see why she's so desperate for your help -- two of the children still waiting on their parents are climbing on her, about to knock her over at any second. Her face is beet red from the effort she's exerting, and her hair is mussed wildly.

"Oh shhh---" you start, catching yourself when Jisoo widens her eyes at you and goes to cover Aera's ears, "--shiitake mushrooms!" You finish with a nervous smile, gaining a stunned laugh from your crush. "Bye girls; gotta go. I'm on my way, Minji!" You call out like a superhero, running to her aid as fast as your legs will carry you.

Jisoo watches you wrangle one of the squirmy kids off of her and initiate a tickle fight to distract him and give Minji time to deal with the other one. She smiles like a dork at your actions, realizing she would be content with watching you all day. You're a natural with them, and seeing you in action is something she wishes she had the chance to do more often. With that, she turns around and picks Aera up; the youngster nuzzles into her embrace, lazily slumping onto her after having such a tiring day. As Jisoo goes to take a step forward, she notices something on the ground: a piece of paper. It's been folded neatly many times, and it reminds her of the notes she would always pass to her friends back in elementary school. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she can't resist the urge to pick it up.

"To The Girl Who'll Never Know I Love Her"

Her eyes scan across the words and she unfolds the note, making sure to keep a steady grip on Aera with her other arm. An almost unnoticeable signature is scribbled in the bottom corner, and she nearly scares Aera by squealing in pleasant surprise.

It's your name, curled into the letters that are so uniquely yours; the paper must've fallen out of your pocket when you bent down to get her case earlier.

After buckling her niece into her car seat and climbing into the driver's seat, Jisoo unfolds the note again and begins reading. She's like a giddy kid all over again, and part of her feels bad for giving into temptation. She reasons with herself by promising to give it back to you the next time she sees you, and that manages to rid her conscience of some of the guilt she feels. For now, though, she's eager to see what it contains.

The first thing to catch her eye is a poem written neatly underneath a doodle of a rabbit, likely serving as some sort of label. Everyone on campus knows of her nickname and resemblance to rabbits, and she can't help but hope that your drawing wasn't simply a coincidence.

Poison, is what you are

A bittersweet mix, intoxicatingly beautiful

For one glance from you

Steals every breath I had so foolishly believed was mine to take

For one smile from you

Sends me reeling, falling all over again

She nearly swoons at the words, rereading them multiple times over and imagining you saying them to her. She wonders how the syllables would fall from your lips, which ones you'd stress to alter the meaning into whatever you imagined when you wrote them. Whether or not they're written for her, she may never know; all she's aware of right now is how they make her feel, and how that feeling is one that she never wants to stop experiencing.

4.) Practice Makes Perfect

2 Weeks, 3 Exams, and 1 Mental Breakdown Later

"Coming!" You call out, using all of your strength to push your rolling chair away from your desk and across the room towards the door.

"Y/N L/N, at your service," you say, doing a little bow in your seat. Upon looking up to see who's in front of you, your eyes lock with the same girl who's been living in your mind rent free ever since you met her.

"Jisoo!" You announce a little louder than intended, scrambling up into a standing position before kicking the chair backwards. You wince when it collides with something behind you, filling the room with noise as a few of your knick knacks clatter to the floor. Jisoo has to fight to contain the smile on her lips, pursing them as she looks towards the ground so as to not embarrass you.

It's too late though -- you've already made a fool of yourself, and right in front of your crush, no less.

"What can I do for you?" You ask, finally relaxing your face from its previously scrunched up position.

"Are you busy right now? I have a favor to ask and you might be the only person who can help me out." Her eyebrows raise inquisitively at you, quirking up in that special way they always do when she's focusing in class.

She could ask you to do just about anything, and you'd be agreeing without hesitation; no questions asked.

"N-no, just doing a little studying is all. How can I help?" You'd normally curse yourself for sounding so shy, but she looks especially gorgeous tonight and you can't even blame yourself for it. The fluorescent bulbs of the dorm's hallway fail to even put a dent in the glow she's radiating, and that's no small feat -- those horrible little things are usually capable of making anyone look bad, and yet, once again, Jisoo manages to break the mold.

"Mrs. Choi assigned a rehearsal for me tonight, and I need a peer to score how well I do. I trust you to do it." She says, having no idea how much her words are affecting you.

Review portions of the semester are crucial to every major's success, but arguably none so much as those studying to be actors. The peer and admin reviews that they receive account for a large chunk of their grade, so you can imagine how nerve-racking it would be to put that kind of power in someone else's hands. You're touched that she trusts you with it.

"I'd love to help, Jisoo. Just curious, though: why don't you have one of the girls help? They probably know more about it than me, after all." Everyone knows how close JenChuLiChaeng are, so her decision to choose you is genuinely intriguing.

Shit. For some reason, Jisoo hadn't anticipated that you'd ask that question. The thought had never crossed her mind earlier, when she was preoccupied with convincing herself to come in the first place, so she has to think something up on the fly.

"They're all busy with work. Couldn't afford to lose any precious cramming time, you know?" She says, a hint of nervousness behind the small laugh she lets out. It's uncharacteristic for her, considering she's usually so confident all the time, but you think it's adorable.

"Ryujin's the same way," you tease, turning your head to look at your roommate. She's across the room on her bed, reading through her book as she holds her middle finger up to let you know she heard your comment. "What a sweetie," you coo, blowing a kiss at her that makes her roll her eyes and smile despite herself. She pretends to be hardcore, but after spending the past few months with her you've discovered that she's actually the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll.

"Well," you say, turning back to Jisoo, "when do you have to start?"

She pulls her sleeve back to glance at her watch before returning her gaze to you. "Gotta be back at the dorm in 10 minutes."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the inner honor student in you already panicking. "10 minutes?! It's all the way across campus, Jisoo!"

She laughs at you now, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "I'm kidding; we still have a couple hours. You should've seen your face, though. Priceless."

"That's no way to treat someone who practically has your grade resting in their hands." You say smugly, a little smirk playing on your lips when her jaw drops dramatically.

"You wouldn't dare," she narrows her eyes, referencing the notion that you might give her bad marks because of that little prank.

"Maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps I'll be merciful if you take me to get something to eat first."

"Food as a peace offering? Alright, I can do that."

You smile, doing a dorky little cheer at that. "Okay, I'll be right out; just give me a second to make myself look presentable."

Jisoo accepts your words with a curt nod, but she wants to tell you that you already look more than presentable. When you first opened the door earlier and she saw you in your study glasses, she couldn't help but smile like a fool; you're adorable, especially to her, and she wishes you could see that.

A couple minutes later you exit your dorm and find her leaned up against the hallway wall, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Is she nervous?

"So, where would you like to go?" You ask, pulling the thin material of your jacket over your shoulders. It's lightweight -- seeing as how the weather doesn't call for a large one -- and it feels soft against your skin.

As the two of you fall into step with each other, she responds, "It's up to you, princess. Since I'm at your mercy and all." Her smirk is visible in your peripheral.

The nickname causes your heart to flutter in your chest, thudding around even harder than it had before. "U-uh, how about the noodle place?" You suggest, trying not to cringe at the stutter in your voice. You've heard that she likes chicken and ramen, and that shop is known as the best restaurant on campus for it.

"110%. You know me so well," she says dreamily, batting her eyelashes at you with a silly smile.

"Called it," you retort, brushing your shoulder off nonchalantly. "Now come on, I'm hungry and ready to spend all of your money." Her hand slips into yours when you reach down for it, almost instinctively, feeling like it was meant to be there all along, and you tug her down the hallway towards the elevator.

----

"I know! If Mr. Johnson assigns another project like that then I'll politely be jumping out a window."

Jisoo laughs at how animated you are, even having to stop chewing her mouthful of food momentarily to make sure she doesn't choke. She really loves hanging out with you; you make everything fun, and all of the stress she feels on a daily basis seems to vanish into thin air.

"I did pretty bad on that last one," Jisoo adds, grimacing as she remembers her score.

"You literally got a 93 out of 100, shut up." You shake your head with an amused smile, reaching across the table to snatch a piece of gimbap from her plate.

"Hey--" she goes to yell at you, but her phone vibrates against the table, successfully stopping her.

"Hello?" She answers, silently starting a chopstick war with you when you reach for another piece. When the person on the other end begins talking, she stops playing in order to concentrate on what they're saying.

"Did she cancel?" She asks, furrowing her brow as her lips form into a natural pout. She sighs, rubbing her temple gently as the conversation continues. "Okay, I'm out with a friend right now, but you can go ahead and head that way. We'll meet you there. Alright, love you, too. Bye."

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly requesting info about what new plan you're being involved in. "That was my brother; the babysitter cancelled on them last minute, so we have to watch Aera for a few hours." Jisoo loves her niece dearly, but she can't deny that she wanted to spend the evening alone with you. She's afraid the little girl will steal all of your attention away, as childish as that may seem.

"You're such a good person," you compliment, only to frown when she brushes off your words. "I mean it, Jisoo. You always take care of everybody around you; it's admirable. Now take the compliment or I'll team up with Aera later and tease you."

She rolls her eyes with a smile, saying, "You're gonna do that regardless."

"That's not the point," you pout, stomping your foot on the ground lightly.

"Fine; tis I, Jisoo, the greatest person in all of existence. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." You beam at her, returning back to your cheery self. "I'll go grab some boxes for us, okay?" She nods, and you scurry off on your mission.

----

Back At Jisoo's Dorm

Images flash across the large, flatscreen TV mounted to the wall across from you, displaying scenes of whatever cartoon the network decided to air right now. Aera isn't being picky; she's content with sitting in your lap, mindlessly fidgeting with the necklace that loosely dangles from your neck as she remains entranced by the screen. Your arms are around her to make her feel secure, and her small frame racks against you with every sweet giggle she lets out anytime a new joke is told by one of her favorite characters.

Jisoo observes from the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop to settle in while she waits for Aera's favorite snack to heat up. She watches as you point to various things on the TV, having her name the ones she knows and teaching her others that she doesn't.

She loves seeing you like this. You're beaming in that special way that sets her heart on fire, and the flames are only fanned when you turn to look at her. Somehow, the sight reminds her of the first time she met you:

It was orientation week -- the beginning of the school year -- and you were taking a tour around campus with some of your friends. You were lucky to have them; you'd only kept in contact with a handful of people from high school, knowing full well that most of those relationships were only rooted in superficiality, never meant to last. But this motley crew was different; they saw you for you, and all of you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It didn't have the same air of awkward tension as the fake friendships had -- this was real and honest, and you thanked your lucky stars for them on the daily.

All of you had managed to get into your dream schools, and the reality was bittersweet; you'd all be moving away from each other and beginning your own lives, having less and less time for each other in the process. You were beyond proud of them, and yourself, for that matter, but it still hurt to think that they wouldn't be just a few blocks away anymore. That you couldn't just swing by their house to go on a late night drive through the city like you used to. As exciting as your new experiences were bound to be, part of you was terrified; your life up until now had been fairly safe, creating a little security blanket to protect you from all that life had in store, but now you were on your own and the idea was a bit daunting. The memories you made together comforted you, though, and kept the sadness at bay.

"Dude, this place is sick. How did you manage to make it in again?"

"Because she's smart, dumbass. We should be asking you that question."

"Ouch, (Friend's Name), that hurt."

"Do you still have those chips from earlier? I'm starving over here."

"Yeah, here, they're in my bag."

Pockets of separate conversations can be heard from behind you, all of your friends chatting away while you walk ahead of them, map and schedule in hand. The campus is fairly large, and with so many buildings and classrooms it's easy to get confused. You continue walking, running a finger along the map to trace the path you intend to take towards the Help Center.

In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that you're headed straight for a trash can that sits on the sidewalk, mere seconds away from colliding with it.

A passerby notices just in the nick of time, reaching an arm out in front of you to prevent the accident with a noise of warning. You tense up, not expecting the sudden interruption, and look up into the eyes of your savior. Her dark orbs peer back at you, an innocent gleam in them when she sees your lips slowly tug into a smile.

She mirrors your actions, neither of you saying anything yet. You couldn't utter a word even if you wanted to; her beauty leaves you speechless.

"That was close," she says quietly, only to you. Your friends have almost caught up with you now, still busy with their own conversations, though they'll tease you once they see a gorgeous stranger's arm wrapped around you.

"Thank you," you breathe out, clearing your throat as you take a step away from her.

"Ooh, who's this, Y/N?" One of your friends coos, garnering a chorus of childish "oohs" and kissy noises from the others. Why are they so obnoxious?

You apologetically glance at the girl one more time before turning around to respond to them, but she speaks up before you can.

"Kim Jisoo." She introduces, facing them with a wide smile. It's easy to see that she's done this before; her tone is pleasant and light, not even a hint of hesitancy in it. She's used to being the center of attention; you can tell by the way she carries herself and commands the space.

"I see you guys are taking a tour, right?" She looks between all of you, though her eyes linger on you for a second too long to be brushed off as 'just friendly'.

You nod, saying, "I can't find my last class. It's a Gen Ed one; World History, room 435. The map says it's in Complex D, but the room was vacant when we went by."

She listens intently, paying attention to your every word. "They must've handed out the old maps by accident, then. Mr. Johnson had to move rooms to accommodate larger class sizes. When do you have him?"

You unfold your schedule again, gazing down at the slightly crumpled sheet until your eyes find their target. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, 1PM."

Upon registering what you said, Jisoo does her best to contain the grin that threatens to spread across her face. "Ah, same as me! I can take you to the room, if you'd like. That way you can find it next week." She offers, pleased by the fact that she'll be seeing you more often. Your cute mannerisms have already thrown her for a loop, and she wants to get to know you better.

"That would be great." You let out a relieved laugh, releasing the worry you felt; tours are meant to end within 20 minutes or so, and before Jisoo came you were afraid you'd never find your last class. She's saving the day again, it seems.

"Great, follow me," she smiles warmly, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to turn you in the right direction. When you give your friends one last glance over your shoulder, you find them giving you thumbs up with smirks on their faces. One of them puckers their lips at you, and you stick your tongue out in return.

You're not sure what they'll end up doing while you finish your tour, though it'll likely involve either skating or eating fast food. They have each other to keep themselves entertained, so you're not worried about them in the slightest. You make a mental note to text them when you're done to meet up again.

Jisoo smiles like an idiot when she realizes what's happening behind her, failing miserably to hide it when you spin back around and give your full attention to her.

"What?" You ask, leaning in closer to her to nudge her shoulder when she looks away, blushing.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, only to be prompted by you again. "You're just cute, is all."

You have to use all your power to hold back the squeal you want to let out at hearing that. Kim Jisoo, as you now know her to be, thinks you're cute? You must be dreaming.

"That's funny, I don't remember turning into a mirror."

"Yah, babo!" She chuckles, not expecting that as she smacks the back of your head with no real force. The two of you share a laugh and continue talking while you make your way to the room.

Beeping sounds from the microwave bring Jisoo back down to Earth, causing the pleasant memory to fade more and more with every incessant signal that cuts through the air. She grabs a couple heat guards and approaches the machine, carefully opening the steaming package and pouring its contents into a big, shareable bowl. Though it may be Aera's favorite food, she'd be damned to not make enough for the two of you as well. After all, keeping her entertained will take plenty of energy.

"Did this princess order one heaping bowl of popcorn or am I at the wrong castle?" Jisoo plays, padding into the room with a bright smile on her face as she looks over at her niece. The smell of her snack snaps Aera back to reality, making her eyes light up with pure joy as she leaps off of your lap and runs to Jisoo. She wraps her arms around her legs, thanking her in that sweet little voice of hers as she gazes up at her aunt with stars in her eyes.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She chants, wiggling her body around in excitement. She lets go when Jisoo goes to walk to the couch, following close behind her like an eager puppy.

She approaches you again, making grabby hands for you to lift her onto your lap even though she's more than capable of getting up there by herself. Nevertheless, you pull her up with a humored grin, watching as she puts her hands in her lap and patiently waits for the two of you to get a bite first. Her ability to follow manners is commendable, though the slight twitch of her lip when she gets a whiff of the food is pretty adorable.

"Dig in," you say around your mouthful of food, locking eyes with Jisoo when Aera jumps at the opportunity to follow your instructions. You never have to tell her twice when it comes to food.

"Yep, definitely related."

Jisoo laughs at your comment, reaching over top of Aera to flick you in the forehead. She shrugs at your pained exclamation, uttering a nonchalant "Sorry, not sorry," as the two of you crack up together.

----

"Y/N, how the hell did you manage to do that?" Jisoo whispers, not bothering to censor herself when she sees Aera fast asleep in your arms. It's not like she could hear her anyway.

"She was already kinda tired when she got here; I just made sure to get that last little bit of energy out with the games. Have you forgotten that I know a thing or two about kids?" You tease, turning to her with a smile when you finish walking up the short staircase.

"You don't understand: usually it takes us hours to settle her down. She's just a totally different person around you."

"Must be my awesomeness."

"Hmm, must be," Jisoo hums, quietly opening her bedroom door for you and watching as you carefully lay Aera down. You tuck her under the blankets with care, making sure to brush the hair out of her face and adjust her pillow a bit. Jisoo leans against the doorframe, adding the scene before her to her list of reasons for loving you. Seeing you in such a domestic situation gives her baby fever, and she has to push the persistent feeling away.

"Ready?" You whisper with one last look over your shoulder, giving Jisoo your undivided attention once you confirm that Aera's alright.

"Let's do it," she says, pulling the door to but not latching it. The two of you will be in the living room, just down the hall, and you want to be able to hear her in case she needs something. So responsible.

You take in the dorm as Jisoo leads you towards your destination, amazed at how much bigger it is than yours and Ryujin's. This one has separate rooms equipped with their own personal bathrooms, a decent kitchen, and, of course, a living area. Clearly, having ties to the school and being president of the student council come with some major perks. Your socked feet pad against the hardwood floor, and you close what little distance is left between Jisoo and yourself to press your body against her back, wrapping your arms around her. She lets out a little noise of surprise, but doesn't protest; she tucks one of her hands into your clasped ones and uses the other to rub your forearm.

A few moments later you plop down onto the couch and get comfortable on the cushions. Jisoo digs around in her bag that leans against the tv stand, searching for the script of her upcoming production. Her shirt rides up slightly, giving you a perfect view of her beautifully sculpted stomach, and her skin looks ethereal as it glows in the soft lamplight of the room. Embarrassed for admiring her in such a way, you avert your gaze, failing to notice how she subtly bites her lip as she approaches you; she planned that little show, and it worked.

"Okay, so here's the scoring sheet," she hands you a semi-formal looking paper, along with a pencil and clipboard to use as a stabilizer. "I'll be reading from the first few pages on my own, but I was wondering if you'd fill in for the male lead for some of the other parts? It's a lot easier to get into character if I have someone's energy to feed off of."

You smile at how cute she sounded with her little rambled request, and nod. "Of course, Jisoo. I doubt I'll be any good, though." She releases a sigh at that, happy to have you agree; her plan is coming along nicely, but there's always room for things to go wrong.

"I'm sure you're better than you think."

"Stop sucking up, Chu. Flattery won't make me raise your grade," you warn, pointing the pencil at her sternly. Your tone sends a shiver down her spine, though it goes unnoticed by you.

"Let's just get started." She concludes, doing her best to keep from getting too flustered under your already watchful eye.

----

Her show is well underway, caught somewhere towards the end of act two, and you're enthralled by the performance she's giving. The paper that once rested in your lap is marked up with comments of praise and proud annotations to accompany your high scoring, though now it lays forgotten about on the coffee table, serving no purpose any longer. You finished all of the required sections necessary for your peer review, and now you're just enjoying the journey that Jisoo is continuing to take you on.

You look back up into her eyes after reading off the lines of the character you're filling in for, looking completely unskilled next to the pure talent that she's exuding. She stands from the couch, looking down at you with an exasperated expression as she remains in character.

"You don't get it!" She raises her voice slightly, though not loud enough to wake Aera. Even while in the intense mindset she has to be in for her character, she keeps one foot in the reality of this world, making sure to behave appropriately.

"Enlighten me, then." You stand and retort, shifting a bit closer to her after reciting your line.

"Only when I'm with you do I feel true happiness. Your kind eyes bring me comfort like no other; I'm safe in your arms. For you, my love," she pauses, her eyes brimming with tears from the emotional words she's spent so much time rehearsing. "...there isn't a thing in this world that I wouldn't do." Your breath is held tightly in your throat, and your hands subconsciously grip onto the material of your jeans.

Only now do you realize how close the two of you have migrated to one another; she's merely a breath away, so close you can feel the warmth radiating from her. You swallow thickly, feeling your nerves come alive with every second that passes in heated silence, neither of you knowing what to do now. You've lost the desire to read your next line, and she doesn't seem too upset by that fact. Her eyes slowly scan over your features, and the lovesick look in them makes you question if she's still in character or slipping out of it.

After her gaze darts down to your lips and she licks her own without even realizing it, you seriously begin hoping for the latter of the two options.

She searches your face for any sign of refusal as she leans in closer, now bringing her arms up to wrap around your waist and lightly ball the material of your shirt up into her fists. Your hands rest on her shoulders, and you glide your fingertips over her jawline. A singular nod is the last form of consent that you give her before she pulls you closer.

Her lips ghost over yours, receiving some of the vanilla balm you applied earlier; her breath hitches when you tug at the collar of her university sweater, teasingly taking her bottom lip between your teeth. She wants to savor this moment, so she fights against her urge to dive right in and get lost in you.

Within seconds, she's kicking herself for that decision.

"Auntie? Y/N?" Aera calls sleepily from just around the corner, making the two of you spring away from each other. When she appears less than a second later, you realize how close you had been to getting caught. Jisoo refuses to meet your gaze when you look towards her, and that simple action disheartens you a bit.

"Hey, sweetheart. Bad dream?" You ask, using your inference skills after noticing the way that she's clutching her stuffed bunny close to her chest. Her lip trembles as she nods, and the sight breaks your heart. Quickly, you pick her up again, assuring her that she's safe and that you'd slay any monster that dared to hurt her, even in her dreams. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she brings a fist up to rub her eye. "How about this: I'll do a quadruple check of the room for you, and stay with you until you fall asleep. Sound good?"

She utters a tired, "Yes, Y/N-yah", before laying her head on your shoulder and waving a goodbye towards Jisoo as you take her back to the room.

Four sweeps of the room and one fight with a ghost later, you tuck her in again and lay a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Love you," she mumbles lazily, making your heart melt. Kids say that phrase quickly, without even realizing the weight that it has, but you're always glad to accept whatever they imagine it to be. Whether she loves you for playing with her, tucking her in, or defending her honor against imaginary monsters, you don't really care all that much -- she loves you in the ways that she knows how, and that's all that matters.

"I love you, too, Aera. Sleep well." You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and settle against the wall, prepared to come through on your promise.

----

"Hey," you start, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"Hey," Jisoo returns, pushing her leftovers from the restaurant around her plate half-heartedly. You approach the marble countertop that she sits behind, silently begging for her to look up at you.

"Should we talk about earlier?" You quietly ask, picking at imaginary imperfections on the surface of the countertop.

"What about it?"

"We practically kissed--"

"It was in the script to do so, Y/N." She says, finally looking up at you. She sounds a bit hostile now, like she's getting defensive for some unknown reason.

"Oh," the simple utterance is all you can manage, seeing as how your brain is running a mile a minute. You want to ask if it meant anything else to her -- if she would've taken it farther, had Aera not walked in -- but you don't. Her tone serves as enough of an answer, and you're not sure you could stand to hear her verbalize your fears anyway.

"Well I guess I should go, then." You retract your hand and put it in your pocket, realizing how stupid you were for thinking she could like you back. She doesn't; she was just in need of a helping hand tonight, and you offered that. You shouldn't have tried to turn it into anything that it wasn't.

Hearing the disappointment in your voice makes her want to confess right then and there, but something still holds her back -- some force is yelling at her to keep her feelings hidden for fear of rejection. "I can drive you."

You shake your head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll have Ryujin come get me. You can't leave Aera here and I wouldn't want to have to wake her up just for you to drive me across campus." Jisoo agrees, realizing that she didn't even think about that at first.

"Goodnight, Jisoo." You say, heading off towards the front door. She returns the gesture, reminding you to be safe as she locks it behind you and watches you dial up your roommate's number. Before long, she pulls into one of the parking spaces in front of the dorm, and the two of you drive away.

Click Here For Part 2

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years

Text

Soulmates

JJK X Reader soulmate AU

Warnings: Minor character death(car crash, only mentioned nothing graphic), Drinking

I don’t know if this is what you (the requester) were going for? this is somehow where I ended up

Everyone in this world has a soulmate. Someone that is meant to complete them and make them feel whole.

Your other half can be identified by the matching birthmark hidden somewhere on their body. There are also a lot of people whose marks are so close to matching that it almost feels like the real thing… almost. Sadly, many don’t ever get to experience the love of their true soulmate, so they settle for the closest they can get.

Jungkook was convinced he was one of the lucky few. Looking at her made his heart feel like it was going to burst. Every time he saw her the world got brighter, the birds started singing a little louder, and his stress nearly melted away entirely … nearly. But at 17 no one is going to pay attention to nearly.

Their birthmark’s matched so closely, each sporting a small puzzle piece on opposite wrists. You wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at the loved-up pair as they walked together hand in hand. And he loved her so completely, and her him, that they never thought to question it. Madly in love until the day she died.

Jungkook spent weeks almost comatose when the news of her car crash reached him. Couldn’t move, eat, sleep. To lose your soulmate so young was said to be a fate worse than never finding them at all. Even after coming through the other side people could tell he wasn’t the same carefree young boy he had been, most likely never would be again. His eyes’ looked far older than his years now, his soft features much more angular.

Three months after her death he resolve to never fall in love again, happy in the knowledge that he got to know her even for such a short amount of time.

….

You met Jungkook at a party. Someone from Uni decided that 24 was the right age for a big birthday bash. They hired out an entire club and set up a series of activities for people to enjoy. A mechanical ball on the main floor, a ball pit to the side, a BBQ in the smoking area, and a bouncy castle in the downstairs 90’s themed area. It really was an amazing event. You however spent most of your time watching the quiet Korean boy in the corner, every time his eyes met yours you felt compelled to move to him, talk to him, dance with him, anything that would get his attention on you. At the time you put it down to the alcohol. It took you exactly 3 and a half drinks to pick up the courage and interrupt his current conversation.

He was very sweet, really sweet considering he clearly didn’t want to be talking to you. It was evident in the way his eyes shifted and the nervous playing with his sleeves, still you persevered. Something about him wouldn’t let you give up, not yet at least. Your saving grace came when your favourite band came blaring over the speakers. “PRETTYMUCH” aren’t an underrated band per say but it’s difficult to find someone who knows them in your circle, so when Jungkook’s face lit up at the same time as yours you knew you had your in. So with the Phases remix blaring through the club you took your opportunity.

“I love this song!” You took his hand and pulled him on to the dance floor before you really realised that’s what you are doing. To start with he was frozen, a little shocked by your boldness, but as you gave it your all he joined in, loosening up for the first time that entire night. After that it was a lot easier to talk to him, you actually went into the smoking area to talk more about shared music interests.

After you went to get a drink you got caught up with some others and he came to find you. It felt like an electric shock when he’d grabbed your hand to get your attention, but there were a lot of balloons around so that would explain the residual electricity. By the time the party was over, and the club was closing, you didn’t want to leave him, not just now but ever. You found yourselves wandering around aimlessly, talking about nothing until the sun came up. Looking back it was then you decided Jungkook was it for you. You had never really believed in the soulmate tradition until you met him.

Weeks go by of you texting back and forth. You found out the reason he was so into music was because he was a musician himself, he even promised to perform for you sometime. A lot of promises were made in those messages.

‘There’s this amazing Restaurant in the city’ you claimed promising to take him with you next time.

‘I really want to see this movie’ he said promising to pay for tickets when it came out.

‘We should go see this band together’ The number one promise between the two of you, quickly racking up a lot of different acts to see together.

So when one of those bands turned up on the roster for the local you’d bought tickets immediately sending him the confirmation. Your stomach had fluttered thinking about seeing him in person again. And so you counted down the days as they passed. Picked and repicked your outfit. Talked yourself in and out of going. Eventually the day arrived. The doorbell signalling his arrival was deafening, ringing out through your small studio apartment. You took a few deep breaths before opening the door.

He was flawless, your tipsy memory hadn’t done him justice. A broad chest draped in a white long sleeve tee, ripped skinnies straining against his thighs, his hair swept into a James Dean quiff. You might’ve laughed at the way your outfits had accidently matched (a black crop with white skinnies) had you been capable of making a noise.

“Ready to go?” He asked nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. You’d nodded, blushing when you realised you had been staring.

It was a short bus ride into the town centre. Spent in relatively comfortable silence arms brushing against one another in the limited space on the crowded vehicle. The club was packed wall to wall when you got inside, no hope of getting to the front of the crowd, or so you’d thought. Jungkook grabbed your hand winked at you and began heading in the opposite direction of the stage. He led you up some back stairs and on to a balcony you hadn’t ever noticed before.

“I’ve played here before, almost no one knows this is here, but it will give us the perfect view.” He dropped your hand in favour of leaning over the railing. You couldn’t help but feel cold at the loss. The performance was great, you found yourselves screaming lyrics back and forth at one another. Some people had cottoned on to your little hiding spot and soon it became as packed as the rest of the club. Whether he was trying to protect you from the others or he was pushed there you will never know, but Jungkook ended up caging you to the railing, head resting on your shoulder.

After the show you’d decided it was time to ask him how he felt. The club was still busy, but the two of you had been in a quiet corner on your own nursing drinks and chatting aimlessly.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You asked, broaching the topic carefully. You watched closely for his reaction, but he gave nothing away. Instead he just shrugged.

“I did once.” It was too blunt, you knew you should’ve stopped but you couldn’t, now you’d decided to tell him it was like verbal diarrhoea.

“I didn’t think I did, I mean I’ve never seen any ‘matching birthmarks’ and every couple I know is perfectly happy… but then I met you and I keep thinking about it, and you, and how I feel about you.” You watched as his face goes from pensive to a deer caught in the headlights.

“I… I have to leave now.” He got up and ran into the crowd before you even had a chance to reach for him. He dipped through a back entrance of the club and into the night before you could even push through the first layer of people.

The ride home had seemed a lot longer. Holding back tears had proved extremely difficult. Of all the reactions he could’ve given you that might’ve been the worst one. Somehow you found yourself thinking even him laughing in your face might’ve been better. You left the lights in your studio switched off that night. Made a beeline for your bed and passed out face down.

It would’ve felt like a bad dream when you woke up… if it hadn’t been for the crusty mascara tracking down your cheeks. You’d picked up your phone from where it lay abandoned next to you. Battery on 12%. You’d decided then it’d be best to run damage control, at least save the friendship.

Y/N: I’m sorry about last night…

You hadn’t expected his reply to be quick, so it’d surprised you when the typing bubbles appeared immediately; and furthered your sadness when they disappeared moments later without a message.

For days you spiralled. Going over the moment again and again in your head. Each replay turning the memory into something worse than the original.

Eventually you plucked yourself out of bed, deciding to face the problem head on and talk to the friend that invited you both to their birthday in the first place.

She met you at a café downtown during her lunch break. It was obvious by your red rimed eyes and sniffling nose that you had been crying but she was nice enough to ignore it for the most part. You caught up on her life for a little while until you physically couldn’t hold back anymore.

You told her exactly what had happened between you and JK, watching as her expression got both more understanding and pitying as you got closer to the end. Whatever you thought she was going to tell you was no where close to the story you got. You sat mouth wide open as she told you about the accident, and the way it affected Jungkook. It made you want to cry all over again. You didn’t know what to say once she had finished, stewing in your own thoughts for a while. The main thought that kept coming to the front of your mind was one that made you feel so evil. But you had to get it out

“What if she wasn’t really his soulmate. What if he was never meant for her” Its barely above a whisper but your friend heard it.

“He truly believes that she was” She replied squinting at you. Her break ended shortly after that leaving you alone with your thoughts.

…

It’s almost a month later when you see Jungkook again. Hadn’t heard a single thing from him since the concert but at least you knew why.

This time it was someone pool party. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to see him there. Didn’t even know you had mutual friends past that one girl. You didn’t think twice about your birthmark when you stripped down to your two piece. Why would you? Everyone has one. You were lay out on a sun-lounger with a drink when you spotted him. Tucked away in a corner once again, the only difference this time was his attention was already on you. He looked as good as ever, hair damp and slicked back, Long-sleeved neoprene shit covering his torso but trunks showing off his amazing thighs. You’d forced yourself to look away form him but could still feel the intensity of his gaze on you.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore, too hot under the sun and his stare you decided to change out of your swimsuit into a sundress for the evening. Heading inside you found your way into someone’s bedroom to get changed. Perhaps you should’ve checked to see if the door the locked though, because just as you had wiggled out of the bikini top Jungkook burst into the room.

“Ah shit… Sorry… I um.” His hand had flown in front of his eyes as he’d slammed the door shut behind him and you’d immediately reached for the flimsy dress pulling it over you torso so he could reopen his eyes.

“What in the actual fuck Jungkook?” you whisper screamed not wanting to draw attention to the two of you hidden away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think… I just needed to see…”

“See what?! My boobs? I think you managed that one perv. You haven’t spoken to me in weeks and now all of a sudden you can’t wait long enough to knock.” You came across a lot meaner than you had meant, you just hadn’t been prepared for him to want to speak to you again.

“No I’m sorry I’ll go, this was a bad idea, I was probably seeing things anyway.” He mumbled looking sheepishly at the floor/

“No wait it’s okay, I really want to apologise don’t leave.” You took a deep breath and waited for his eyes to meet yours properly. When they did you could see the shock behind them.

“Why do you need to apologise? I’m the one that ran off, I never even told you why and I fucked up and I’m sorry I just…” You reached for him then, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and then realised it wasn’t your place, arm dropping heavily back to your side. “I felt so guilty with you, not because of you, because of me.” You nodded in understanding.

“I found about your soulmate after I confessed to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I never would’ve brought it up if I had known you had already found yours.” You’d broken eye contact with him then unable to watch the sadness in his eyes and not be able to do anything about it.

“That’s why I felt so guilty though because the way I feel about you is so similar to the way I felt about her, how I still feel about her deep down. I was so confused because you’re only supposed to get one soulmate, and if I could feel the same way about you in such a short time… it just feels like I’m betraying her by loving you.” He stepped forward reaching for your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. “The today when I saw your birthmark on your thigh I could’ve cried.” He uses his free hand to unzip the shirt he’d been wearing. He pulled his left arm from the sleeve exposing his birthmark to you. A puzzle piece to fit perfectly into your own.

You’d gasped at the revelation you were right. He was meant to be yours. And yet it didn’t feel right. The anguish on his face was clear, the internal fight he had obviously been having with himself ever since the concert.

“Letting yourself love me now doesn’t mean you loved her any less” you whispered, allowing yourself to move even closer to him, wrapping him in your arms. He’d nuzzled into your neck allowing tears to stream down his cheeks and onto your shoulder. You’d felt every bit of stress leave his body as he cried. Emotions he hadn’t even know he had been holding onto, finally letting himself really breath since he had lost her all those years ago.

You’d lost track of the time, just stood with him, holding him until the final few sniffles came. His cheeks had been puffy by and red when he pulled away, wiping his face on the sleeve still on his right arm.

“Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine” You’d asked carefully, not willing to let him go home alone after feeling like that. He’d nodded weakly, sliding his arm back into the shirt before taking your hand in his. You’d headed for the door only to be brought back by the hand he had on yours. He’d pulled you so close you could see the flecks of gold in his irises, watched your reaction before leaning in and kissing you. It was salty with left over tears, but you wouldn’t change you first kiss for the world. Everything felt like it clicked into place in that moment, the world tilted on its axis. The exchange was short lived, a chaste peck followed by a few smaller pecks before he let you lead him all the way home.

Masterlist

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