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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

Could you do some headcanons about Kaeya and Diluc with an s/o who really wants to dance with them (whether it be at a festival, party, at home, etc.) Also? I seriously respect the hell out of you for writing while working an 8-5 as someone who has to work a 9-5 and feels like i doesn’t even have time to shower at night. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ I hope you’re doing well! Please continue to grace us with your lovely presence!

I finished it!! Thank you for waiting for me! I hope you like it :D

^ expanded the request a bit --- I also don’t know how Kaeya’s got to be so long - so an extra special gift from me to you

warnings -> sfw, reader is pestered by some ppl, jealous characters :)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Albedo

Kaeya

When Kaeya asked you to be his partner to one of the largest events in all of Mondstadt, you were beyond excited - this was an opportunity you had been waiting for - you’d always wanted to dance with him, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so

You did your best to get ready, not knowing if this or that outfit would be better to wear, and the anxiety of having to meet him at the event hall was weighing on you

“Y/N!” You turned your head for the thousandth time, so many voices had called out to you the moment you descended the stairs, their eyes as powerfully overwhelming as their voices. Luckily, this voice was someone you were relieved to see. Amber gripped onto your hands and pushed herself between you and the many bodies standing just a bit too close. “You look incredible! I’ve only ever seen you in your adventure clothes.”

“Haha, I couldn’t come to a ball dressed like that, could I?” You glanced down at your attire, it had taken you a long time to decide what to wear and even though you settled on this, and were getting compliment after complement, you only cared about one person's opinion. Where was he?

“Well, you look incredible!” She gripped your wrist and pulled you along, shouting at people who refused to get out of the way, her peppy voice breaking through all the many others calling for your attention. It was strange to be the center of attention. You’d seen so many of these faces around town and they didn’t seem to notice you then, so why all the affection now? It made you feel self-conscious.

When you were finally away from the sea of eager eyes, you took a deep breath. The new, less crowded space letting in relief to ease your nerves.

You looked at Amber and smiled at her, she always seemed to know how to bring you just what you needed, her kindness knew no bounds and you were we happy to have a friend like her. “Have you been here long?” You asked her.

“Pretty much, I’ve been helping plan this event for a while. I’m happy for it to be over honestly, who knew planning something like this was so exhausting.”

“Ha, maybe that’s why Diluc always has a sour expression on his face. Too many events.”

“You’re probably right! Ah, can you imagine stern Diluc planning a party? I’d die.” She laughed and the cheery vibrations seeped into your weary skin, your nerves made it easier for you to have an emotional reaction and with her disposition you found yourself laughing with her.

“So,” you looked out over the dance floor, noticing the tables full of food and drink, people standing in small circles chatting and laughing away. “Who else made it tonight?”

“Oh, are you looking for someone in particular?” She tilted her head and smiled at your flustered state.

“N-no … what … shut-up.” You frowned and looked away from her.

“I think you’ll see him soon, he had something to do but it won’t take him all night.” She must have noticed your disappointment because in an instant she made the decision to get you something to eat and stuck to your side until you had a more natural smile on your face.

Any excuse to be close to you he is all for, it doesn’t matter what the occasion is, he will find a way to hold you, touch you - he just cannot get enough of you

When he invited you to the Favonious ball, he knew you’d quickly take up his offer and join him, there wasn’t a question in his mind that you would deny it

He had several things to prepare for and was frustrated that he couldn’t bring you to the event himself, but he knew you’d show up and once you did he’d have all night to spend with you - that was if he could make his way through the barrage of people who were flocking to you as soon as you stepped through the door

He stepped through the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he made his way toward the ballroom. Lisa had given him a few ‘last minute’ wardrobe adjustments, and while she cooed over how handsome he looked, he hated how tight the suit was around his neck. He pushed his finger between the collar of his dress shirt and pulled at it.

As he turned the corner, he could already hear the sounds of the party drifting up toward him. He hoped it wasn’t too late, his work had kept him longer than he wished and it was well past the time that you said you’d be there. He was frustrated and eager to see your face.

The light from the ballroom washed over him as he stepped onto the balcony. There were still plenty of people enjoying themselves below but he only cared about one. His eyes scanned the crowd, heart filling with dread as he failed again and again at finding you among them. Then he saw you, your back leaning against one of the pillars, your arms crossed around your chest, eyes looking at the outrider who seemed to be holding you in a lively conversation.

He smiled and quickly made his way down the steps, his hands slipping into his pockets as he did so.

People were engaged in discussions, which normally he would be interested in as these were great opportunities to gather information, but his focus was on something much more important.

“I’m going to ask them…” A voice caught his attention so he slowed his pace.

“Don’t even bother, they haven’t danced with anyone the whole night. They’ve just been talking with that brunette for hours.”

“I’m pretty persistent; I know how to win someone over.” Kaeya looked at them, his gaze lingering for a moment before catching you in the same place you had been. He watched as they made their way toward you and the stab in his chest pulled at the back of his mind. Quickly, he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, the freedom of it spurring him on as he pushed his way toward you.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t danced with anyone here. I know, you’ve just been waiting for me to ask you all night.” The man smiled at you, but there was something unsettling about the way he did it.

“No thank you, I’m not interested.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it.” You were getting irritated at this point, not only had he interrupted your conversation with Amber, but he wasn’t the only person to ignore your first no.

“Again, I’m not interested.” You turned away from him hoping that if you didn’t look he’d just walk away.

He placed his hand against the pillar and leaned in closer to you and you were about to show him how strong your disinterest was when you heard a familiar voice.

“How rude of me to keep you waiting for so long, I came as soon as I could.” You looked behind the man and saw Kaeya standing there in formal attire, his beauty seemed to know no limits - frustrating.

“Kaeya!” You stood, disregarding everything and flashing him the brightest smile you could.

“Am I too late for a dance?” He held out his hand to you and without hesitation you took it. He led you to the dance floor leaving behind a confused, dejected suitor and excited Amber in your wake.

He spun you around as soon as you reached the dance floor, a hand resting on your hip and the other holding your hand. “You look stunning, did you get dressed up all for my sake?” He looked down at you and his smile made your legs weak.

“Maybe … don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” He laughed and you forgot how much you missed him. It didn’t matter how long you waited, for him, you would wait an eternity.

“I heard a rumor about you.”

“What rumor?” You looked up at him and caught the mischief in his eyes.

“That you haven’t danced with a single person here, is that true?”

“... It is … I only …” You looked down at his chest before continuing. “I only wanted to dance with you.”

His hands squeezed around your hip and you felt him pull you closer, “How lucky am I. Sorry I made you wait.”

“No! You don’t have to apologize.” Your head shoots up to meet him, your voice a bit louder than you planned, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Well let’s give them all a show, shall we? I mean, I have to make sure they know they’ll never stand a chance.” The two of you spend the rest of the night together, the jealousy of all those who wished they were Kaeya apparent as they started to fade away the longer the two of you held one another. Kaeya couldn’t be happier, he was completely fine with them dropping all hope of being yours - that space was for him and him alone.

Diluc

You were having a great time enjoying the festivities. Practically everyone had been invited to the winery to celebrate the coming of the new season, it was one of the most popular events that could happen

The two of you had been catching each other here and there, but with how busy he was taking care of everything, and how popular you were becoming as a dance partner or at least an interested dance partner, the two of you continued to drift past the other

Diluc was getting more and more irritated as the evening went on. There were so many things distracting him from where he desperately wanted to be. Instead of being at your side, he was busy hosting conversation after conversation with potential business partners, dealing with the drunkards who couldn’t seem to keep a responsible handle on their booze, and drifting between staff to make sure they had what they needed.

Reasons like these were why he typically avoided hosting events, but it was always fruitful and he needed to keep old connections and build new ones. Still, when he had a second and his eyes drifted through the crowd to find you, he felt the heat rise in his chest as he watched you dancing in the arms of someone other than him. He wasn’t mad at you of course, he was frustrated with himself that he allowed others to touch you, you were just too kind - a trait he loved, but one that also pulled at his heart.

“They are incredible.” He heard someone share with their friend. Glancing up from his work he saw just who they were in discussion about.

“I wonder if they are seeing anyone?”

“I haven’t heard anything …Hey, If you don’t go for it, I will!” They laughed and while he couldn’t tell if their intentions held any weight, he hated that the idea was even present in their minds. Again, it was on him that people didn’t know you were seeing one another. The two of you looked like good friends with the way you respected his boundaries, and his reservation at being expressive with his affections for you. He clenched his jaw before walking away.

---

Your legs were starting to ache from the amount of activity you were requesting of them. So many people had asked you to dance, and you didn’t want to be rude, as a guest of Diluc’s you wanted to make sure to be as kind and thoughtful as you could. However, with the amount of energy you were expending on everyone else you were starting to feel the effects of it all. So when several more, slightly persistent, patrons came to ask you to dance, you found yourself leaning to decline.

“Excuse me,” they began, “If you would be so kind, I’d love to have the next dance with you.” You looked up at them and saw their nervous smile. It hurt to reject them, but you desperately wanted a break.

“Thank you, but I’m going to have to respectfully decline.” You nodded your head and noticed there were other eager dance partners standing behind them. “I need to rest a bit, everyone has been so lively, and I’m running out of stamina.” You laugh in an attempt to make your rejection more lighthearted.

“If you don’t want to dance, we can do something else!” They sat down next to you, their arms perched on the table, body leaning in way to close. They began to ask you questions, which was fine until they started to get more and more personal. You did your best to answer them, but when they asked the next question it was a challenge to get them to accept your response.

“Everyone is dying to know,” another asked, you turned your head to them and waited, “are you seeing anyone?”

You averted your gaze before responding, “Yes. I am.”

“What!?” | “There is no way?” Their voices hit you at once and the loudness of their shouting drew eyes from other party-goers. They badgered you for a bit, all asking different questions at the same time, making it hard to hear them all. One stuck out and when they spoke the group got quiet.

“I’ve never seen you with anyone.” You looked at them, their arms crossed and lips turned into a frown. “You’re pulling our legs.”

“No, I really am seeing someone.”

“I don’t believe it, you're just using that as an excuse.” Their words made you angry. You didn’t own them anything and you were being plenty kind, and, that kindness, was starting to grow thin. “Tell us who it is and then we will believe you.” They placed their hand on the table and looked directly into your eyes. You were about to answer them when you were interrupted by the person himself.

“Y/N.” He spoke and the voices around the table died down, you looked at him and felt unbelievable relief.

“Diluc.” You stood and walked toward him, his hand open for you, a gesture you were surprised by. Carefully, you placed your hand in his and scratched the side of your head.

He looked at you, his eyes heavy on your skin. “Sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, there was no way people couldn’t notice how much that affected you.

“Hey! What’s going on … are the two of you …?” The person stood up and placed their hands on their hips. Their shouting drew the eyes of others again and everyone at the table stilled as they waited for a response.

“Yes, and I ask that you don’t cause them any trouble; I won’t tolerate it.” His tone had a hint of a threat and it made your chest tight. There was a shockwave of disbelief that ran through the crowd, and the whispering made your ears burn. Diluc looked at you and you looked back, “Shall we?”

“Mhm.”

You followed after him, his broad shoulders a sight you never got tired of seeing and when the two of you held each other in movement to the music, you knew there would be no secret to your relationship now. Diluc made that clear from his words to his actions, and as the music began to fade and the sun dipped below the cliffs, he bravely showed his feelings for you as his lips touched your cheek.

Childe

He’d be all about showing you off to others - he wants to make it clear that you and he are an item no matter where you were

You went with him back to his home-town. It was a long trip, but so worth it to be with him, to see where he grew up. It took a while to get used to the chilly weather, and in fact you had to layer up extra carefully in order to bear the cold

His family had prepared for him a welcome party and had practically invited everyone they could to celebrate his return. Even if they knew it was only temporary, as his membership with the Fatui often kept him on the move, still, it was nice to feel so loved and welcomed with such a joyous event.

They also knew he would be bringing someone special back with him. It was a demand which plastered every letter he received from his siblings. He knew if he didn’t bring you along there would be a reception colder than the snow that never melted.

Of course, the two of you arrived hours before the start of the celebration. This gave his siblings and other family plenty of time to introduce themselves to you. They asked you question after question and when it was finally time to get ready for the party, you noticed how rough your voice had become. You definitely knew that Childe was a member of this family, he too knew how to wear out your voice.

Childe changed clothes quickly, it had been so long since he wore those clothes from this region. As he looked in the mirror, the way the outfit rested snuggly against him, it made him even more nostalgic than he already was. He was waiting out in the large living room, his mind playing out memories of his childhood in this house when a sound caught his attention.

His younger siblings giggled and shouted in excitement and as he turned to see what was all the fuss he felt the air in his lungs leave him. You were dressed in a traditional style outfit, your hair styled to fit your attire, hands fussing with the clothes you weren’t used to wearing. When you looked up at him and smiled shyly he felt an incredible urge to lock you behind closed doors and not let anyone lay their eyes on you.

You walked toward him, ignoring the loudness of his siblings, “They said this would be okay … Do I … look alright?”

“You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” You drop your head, looking at your hands and he desperately wants to pull your face back to him, but is interrupted before he gets the chance.

“Let’s go already, big brother!” Teucer shouts, already standing at the door.

“Shall we?” Childe extends his elbow to you and you take it.

---

He had been watching you dance with the members of his family for a while, and while it moved his heart to see you laughing and doing your best to learn the moves, he wanted to hold you in his arms himself. He wanted you, to have you experience his traditions first hand through him. So, when he couldn’t handle it any longer, he finally asked you to dance.

“You all have been keeping them so busy … I’m going to steal them back now.” He exclaimed, barging into the game you had been playing with his younger siblings.

“That’s not fair! You’ve been able to keep them to yourself for so long. We want to play more.”

“You can after I’ve had my fun, let’s go.” He pulled you away and their cries sounded as you drifted further from them.

“I was winning!” You exclaimed, laughing as he pulled you behind him.

“It’s my turn to have your attention.” He turned and pulled you close to him. You could feel his energy through his fingertips, it was familiar, like the time he saw you talking to that stranger in one of the bars of Liyue.

“Childe, you can’t seriously be jealous of your family.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you.” He spun you around and when you realized you were out on the dance floor you knew you were in trouble.

“I’m not very good at this yet.” You try to explain to him but it falls on deaf ears.

“I’ll teach you, just follow my lead.” He nodded to the musicians and they began to warm up, their music drowning out the chatter. Quickly, he leaned down and kissed your forehead before offering some last minute encouragement, “Let me show them all how spectacular you are.”

He loved every second of this. The way your feet stumbled over his as he moved with you across the dance floor, the way your face flashed through different expressions: joy, concern, embarrassment, confidence. He couldn’t get enough of you, there was never enough of you. How was he ever going to be satiated with you around, especially when you were embracing his home, his family with such unbound acceptance.

He wanted to swallow you up, he wanted to lock you to him for the rest of time, and the more you let him take, the stronger his desire became.

As the music drifted into its final crescendo he lifted you in his arms and spun you around. There were countless couples surrounding you, all shouting and cheering on the excitement that rippled from the center of the dance floor. When he stopped and you slid a bit down his chest, your shoulders at the height of his chin, hands gripping tightly on his shoulders and face dipping down to him with a smile that told him everything he ever needed to know about you, he let the words fall from his mouth, finally being as honest as he ever had been.

“I love you.”

Albedo

Albedo wasn’t too fond of parties and get-togethers, it was a lot of energy to expend on the discussions or interactions which he’d much prefer to stay clear of, at least if he can get away with it. Still, he had promised to make an appearance, and when he saw you he was much more inclined to stay

He loved to watch you have a great time, you were so independent, doing things whenever you felt like it and experiencing life as it happened. Unless it was explicitly told to others, most wouldn’t have any idea that the two of you were seeing each other. Most of the time that wasn’t a problem, as your busy schedules kept you distracted, but as he watched you mingle with the citizens and partake in the festivities, and how you drew the attention of interested eyes, he was starting to get jealous

These sorts of festivals drew in travelers from all over Teyvat. Most of them only blew in with the wind while others stayed longer after the final banner was removed. It was something that almost everyone in Mondstadt took part in, even those who often didn’t get out much -- and he was one of them.

Albedo made his way through the streets greeting citizens as he passed by, a quick nod or hello here and there. It was Sucrose who had encouraged him to take a break, reminding him that he was likely to see you down in the festivities. So, he put away his work for the day and headed out of the research labs toward the cheering below.

When he saw it was like the sun shined on his face for the first time in days. He felt so warm and was eager to reach you. As he got closer, he couldn’t help but notice the many faces that were turned to you. It was strange but he tried not to let that oddity hender him in any way. That’s when he started to hear the conversation you were having with someone, the closeness of them to you, and the way they didn’t seem to leave you alone.

It wasn’t like him, either, to let his emotions get the better of him, but having to listen and watch others take notice of you, something inside of him grew and he wanted to make sure they knew their hands would never reach yours.

“Hey.” A man walked up to you and injected himself in the conversation you were having. You stopped what you were doing and glanced at him, curious. “Would you be interested in dancing with me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not much of a dancer.” You smiled at him and tried to let him down easy. In fact you’d love to dance, but only if it was with a particular person, and he didn’t seem to be around at the moment.

“It’s okay if you aren’t, I’m happy to teach you some moves.” He took a step closer and his first impression of friendliness was slipping into pushiness.

You started to tap your fingers against your leg, the motion becoming more intense the closer he got. “Really, I’m not a good dancer, you’ll find more luck with someone else.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He reached for your hand but was blocked by another. When you looked at the owner and saw it was Albedo, your stomach flipped.

“Albedo?” You turned to him, a smile on your face and relief in your voice.

“Excuse me, but I believe they said they weren’t interested?”

“... ha, what are you their boyfriend?” They laughed and continued talking, “Listen, why don’t you let …”

“Yes, I am.” Albedo interjected, cutting the person off.

“What?”

“We are together.” They looked confused, their eyes moving back between yours and Albedo’s. Albedo looked down at you and noticed the expression on your face, “Is that not the right way to describe our relationship?”

“No! I mean, yes, that’s right.” You looked at the person and gestured to Albedo, “This is my boyfriend, I’m his … we’re together, yes.” You nodded your head way too many times, but the point seemed to get across to them anyway. They left in a huff and you watched them leave before standing and turning to Albedo.

It was the first time the two of you had ever really said those words out loud - of course you knew in your minds that you were a couple … but to say the term which let the outside world know of your relationship, well it was so exciting

You felt your face get hot as you remembered how factually he had spoken, how quickly he answered their question. You couldn’t help but pat your face and pinch your cheeks

After that, the two of you wandered through the festival, eating delicious food, participating in the activities, laughing and having interesting discussions, as you always did

When night started to drift over the event and only a few people remind in the city center, you found yourself back in the place where your time together started, music drifting through the air

You had such an incredible day. There were times the two of you were so busy that you would go days without seeing one another, so to spend an entire afternoon together was like a gift.

“Today was incredible.” You express, the excitement and joy from the day making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“I can tell you had a good day.” Albedo replies, smiling at you.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, you click your tongue like that when you’re happy … sometimes when you’re focused.”

“Ah, really! I’ve never noticed.”

“I think it’s cute.” He stepped closer and grabbed your hand, his grip soft and gentle. “So I know you don’t like to … I was wondering … would you like to dance with me?”

“Yes!” You answered much quicker than he expected, your voice startling him a little. You covered your mouth and laughed, your eyes squinting.

“Let’s go.” You took his hand and walked until the space felt right. Albedo let go of you before turning to look at you. With an elegant bow he requested your hand once again, you returned the gesture, not wanting to be rude and also trying your best to not scream with excitement. The music swelled and your bodies moved closer, his hands wrapping around your back while yours draped over his shoulders. You rested your head against his chest and let the wonderful day drift into a wonderful night, you and Albedo sharing in a moment with one another. No worries, no interruptions, just one another swaying to the sweet mixture of music and distant conversations.

“I’m glad you could make it today.”

“Me too.”

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miyanom · 4 years

Text

AND YOU JUST CAN’T SAY GOODBYE...

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X F!READER

synopsis: in which the raid of liberio takes the most important thing in jean’s life; you.

warnings: 4x08 spoilers!!! Angst, major character death (y/n), mentions of guns and blood

Y/N stared down at the ruins of Liberio as she flew overhead, holding tightly onto the gun of her anti-personnel gear — the thing keeping her attached to the aircraft as she reeled herself in.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mass of bodies laying beneath them, the bodies of the civilians who weren’t given the chance to make it out before the bombings.

She tried convincing herself this was all for a reason, that it was the only way. But she couldn’t. How could she when the bodies continued to pile up, when the blood staining their hands got thicker and thicker?

Freedom, they called it. They were fighting for freedom — but how many innocent lives would they have to exchange for it? How many more wars stood between them and the freedom they so desperately seeked?

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N climbed into the aircraft, ignoring the voices speaking her way as she moved away from the entrance in utter silence.

She just wanted to go home, forget all about what happened here today... forget about the innocent lives lost to Eren’s plan. Eren, the reason they had come to Marley in the first place.

He had already made his way back into the ship, so had Captain Levi and the others. Even so, Y/N couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling gnawing at her gut. Their plan had so far been mostly successful, why did she feel like something was going to go wrong still?

“Oi, Jean!” Connie’s voice mentioning Jean’s name was enough to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. Pushing her way through the crowd of soldiers who had made their way back to the airship, Y/N dropped down at the entrance, holding out a hand to help Jean inside.

Looking up at his friends waiting for him, Jean reached up to grab ahold of Y/N’s hand, allowing the girl to pull him into the safety of the ship Commander Hange had secured for them.

As soon as Jean’s knee pressed against the wooden floor, Y/N was launching herself into his arms. A whiff of his scent being enough to wash away her fears even slightly.

Maybe things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but Jean had made it back alive, they both had. And that’s all that mattered to Y/N in that moment.

Pulling back slightly, Jean stared at Y/N’s face, taking in her appearance like she’d disappear from his hold at any moment. “Thanks for coming back alive,” she whispered with a small smile, one of her hands caressing his cheek gently.

“I always will,” Jean told her, quite suddenly moving in to press his lips against hers in a kiss.

Y/N didn’t want to move away, just wanting to live in that moment for the rest of eternity.

The idea of leaving the fight behind and living a safe life with Jean always remained in the back of her mind, the lingering thought being the only thing that helped her sleep at night when the toll of the war became too much.

There was only one thing stopping her, and she knew it stopped Jean, too.

Though he’d never admit just how much he cared about Sasha and Connie, Y/N knew him well enough to have a good idea. He’d never leave them to fight this tortuous fight alone.

The couple’s reunion was broken up by Connie and Sasha as their sibling-like bickering grew loud enough to break through Jean and Y/N’s little bubble.

Jean let out a sigh, standing up and helping Y/N back onto her feet before they walked over to the others. “You owe me a big fucking meal, Connie!” Sasha complained, pointing a finger at Connie who was shaking his head.

“Speaking of debts, I think you guys owe me a drink when we get back to the island,” Y/N grinned, throwing her arms over Connie and Jean’s shoulders as her eyes flickered between the two. “Seeing as I paid last time, it’s the least you two could do.”

It was over. The war was just beginning, but this fight was over, Y/N kept telling herself. Ignoring the fear still coursing through her veins.

“I think it’s Jean’s turn.” Connie immediately threw the other boy under the bus, earning a glare from Jean.

Y/N smiled up at him. “Come on, Jean~” she cooed. “Since you love me and all.”

Jean stared at her for a moment before sighing and averting his gaze, the telltale sign that he couldn’t say no to Y/N. “Fine.”

Y/N and Connie immediately turned to each other, high-fiving in victory. Though the moment was short lived as Jean turned around, and a gunshot was suddenly echoing through the air.

Y/N’s body quickly spun around, her eyes widening as she felt a sharp pain pierce through her torso. “Y/N?!” Sasha’s voice sounded so quiet over Y/N’s pounding heart as she stumbled backwards from the shock.

As the pain travelled through her body, Y/N felt her legs give out beneath her, and within seconds, she was hitting the cold wooden floor of the aircraft.

“Y/N! Hold on!” Sasha screamed, falling to her knees and pressing her hands against Y/N’s wound as the others all gathered around the attackers. “Stay with…”

Moments later, Sasha’s shouts were being cut off as Jean fell by Y/N’s side, shouting her name in fear that she wouldn’t make it. “J… Jean.” Her words came out in a gasp, her raspy breaths making Jean and Sasha share a look as he carefully pulled the girl into his arms.

“Come on, Y/N, just hold on,” he pleaded.

“Jean,” she coughed out again. And Jean finally noticed the blood gathering on the corner of her mouth, as hot tears began to stream down her face. “I want… I want to go home.”

“You’re going to make it back, I promise,” he whispered, cradling her face in one hand as he thumbed away her tears. “And I’ll buy you that drink.”

They both knew it was a lie. Y/N, from the way her pain had begun to subside as a foreign coldness began to settle in its place. And Jean, knowing it just from the amount of blood he could see pooling on the floor beneath her.

Though despite it all, Y/N smiled weakly, gasping out what could very likely be her last words. “I love you…”

As Y/N began to go silent, her eyes struggling to stay open, Jean finally began to pay attention to the blood seeping from her wound, creating a pool of crimson around her fallen frame.

Y/N could hear it — her comrades’ cries of desperation. They wanted her to hold on, but what was there to hold on to? Perhaps the happy memories of the people they once were, before the war had truly taken its toll…

She hoped to take it all with her as her time finally came. Though she guessed her time was now, in a foreign country, in the arms of someone so familiar she could see his face even with her eyes closed.

“Are you serious?” Y/N stared at Jean in shock. “The Survey Corps? I thought you had your heart set on the Military Police, what happened?”

“Not that suicidal bastard, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Jean crossed his arms, staring her down for a moment before he sighed and looked away, a frown tugging at his lips. “I just… I don’t want- I don’t want those charred bones to be disappointed in me.”

Y/N’s expression softened as she took his words in. The Battle of Trost had been hard on all of them, losing Marco had made it almost 100% worse. Especially for her and Jean.

Hearing about her friend’s death, without knowing how it happened, was something she never wanted to go through again. Unfortunately for them, Jean happened to be her best friend, and she wasn’t about to let him be another body with an unknown death. Another person she lost without trying to help them survive.

“Then I’m joining the Survey Corps, too!” Y/N said, her fists clenched tightly as Jean’s head snapped back in her direction.

“Y/N-”

“Don’t even try to change my mind, cause you can’t,” she told him. “I… I’m staying by your side, okay? If anything happens, I- I just want to be there.”

Without so much as a word, Jean was pulling Y/N into his embrace. “Y/N-”

He was crying? Why? Why was Jean crying?

Y/N’s eyes slowly flickered open once more, immediately being met with Jean’s teary eyes as he held her close. She remembered now… she was shot.

Maybe that’s why she couldn’t move her arm even the slightest bit to wipe away Jean’s tears and comfort him. That’s all she wanted to do. She hated seeing him cry, it was the worst feeling in the world.

Weakly, her eyes flickered to her other side. Sasha and Connie sat there, clinging to each other as they sobbed. A tear slipped from Y/N’s eye as she watched them, unable to move a single muscle in her body.

She hated seeing the people she cared for in pain, and all of this suffering was because of her? Why? Why did this have to happen?

“Stay with me, please, Y/N.” Jean begged.

She wanted to. That’s all she wanted. But she was so tired, and everything hurt, even breathing seemed too much at this point.

Jean raised his hand once more, accidentally smearing her own blood against her cheek as he held her face delicately in his large hand. “I love you.”

I don’t want to leave you… that’s what she wanted to tell him, but no words came out, only broken gasps that’d haunt Jean for the rest of his life as she bled out in his arms.

As Y/N’s eyes shut once again, she wasn’t greeted with the face of the man she loved, rather, she was blinded by a bright light. The voices of her friends screaming for her to wake up fading into white noise as she slipped out of consciousness.

This was her end…

“Y/N!” A soft voice seemed to echo through the air as Y/N’s eyes flickered open.

“Where… where am I?” Y/N whispered, pushing herself up as she looked around. She was still in the aircraft, but no one else was. Jean and the others weren’t.

Before Y/N even had the chance to question it further, the voice repeated itself. And she finally turned around.

Y/N didn’t know what was expecting to see, but as her eyes fell onto Marco — the boy she hadn’t seen in years, the boy who looked like he hadn’t changed a day since his final moments in Trost — she couldn’t help but take off into a run.

Marco easily caught her as she embraced him. “Marco!” She cried out happily, before her eyes widened and she pulled back. “How… how are you here? You died. I- I saw…”

He remained silent as Y/N seemed to catch on to what was happening, one of her hands immediately to shooting to where her wound once was. “You’re fight’s over now,” Marco told her. “You can rest.”

“Rest,” Y/N repeated in a whisper, the word sounding foreign on her tongue. When was the last time she had rested, she couldn’t remember. It had been battle after battle, betrayal after betrayal. There was no room for rest in the middle of a war, she had been telling herself.

But now…

Now she could finally rest, knowing Connie and Sasha would take care of Jean for her. Knowing they’d win the war together and live long, safe lives.

It was all Y/N ever wanted. Even if she was unable to see it with her own eyes.

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deepdarkdelights · 4 years

Text

Cut (Taehyung x Reader)

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 14.5k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Non-Consensual Touching, Non Con, Dub Con, Outercourse, Drugging, Manipulation, NSFW

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Read more stories from this universe here

Preview: Those dark eyes followed the stream of tears running down your face, becoming entranced by the sight before him. Without any thought, he leaned forward and licked a stripe from the top of his hand to the skin beneath your eyes tasting the salty tear on the tip of his tongue. You jumped again in disgust and panic, recoiling so hard you knocked your head back into the wall behind you. He tilted his head back in ecstasy, a moan breaking free from his lips at the taste that tainted his tongue. A twisted part of him hoped that piece of you would be inside of him forever, that that single tear would tie the two of you together for an eternity.

A/N: I want to give the biggest shout out in the world to @na-yiii this fic would not have been possible without her help and guidance while I was writing it. She inspired majority of this fic and helped me battle my writer’s block. Please send her some love because this really wouldn’t have happened without her, thank you so much 💜

This fic was also inspired by an ask I was sent by an anon, I hope you don’t mind that some things were changed!

Your shoes echoed in the quiet of the night, gentle scuffs against the pavement as you walked down the dimly lit street in a hurry. It was eerie, how quiet and empty the streets were. To anyone else it would feel like they were the only person in the world, suspended in a point in time where there was perpetual darkness, silence, and loneliness. It was foreboding and ominous. You shivered as you trekked on, heading in the direction of a lone parking garage. The walk had been anxiety inducing, the quiet and the dark beginning to get to you as you forced yourself to walk faster to your car. You could have sworn you heard footsteps behind you, light and fast just like your own.

You let out a heavy sigh as you reached your car, going to fish your keys from your bag as you fell into a relaxed state having worried for nothing. But, before you knew it, there were a strong pair of arms snapping around your chest and lifting you backwards. You opened your mouth in an attempt to scream only to have it muffled by his gloved hand. You squirmed violently in an attempt to break free from his python like hold around you. You could hear him grunting in frustration behind you, he was becoming agitated with your attempts to free yourself. You felt his leather covered fingers weave through your hair, gripping it hard before rearing your head back and slamming it into the hood of your car. Not once, but twice. Your body fell limp, disorientated as he began to drag your limp body away from the safety you thought your car had provided.

You moaned in pain, weakly tugging your limbs to try and get away. The man said nothing and did nothing in reaction, he just simply continued to drag you in the direction of a waiting car. His concealed hand reached for the handle of the backseat door preparing to open it only to be cut off by a sharp cry of another voice.

“Cut!” The director screamed.

At the sound of that single word, you lifted yourself into a sitting position and stretched. Your joints popped and ached in protest as you did so. This was the seventh time you had filmed that specific scene, each time your co-star lifted you had rendered you rather sore and stiff. These long hours on set were definitely not doing you any favors.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, pulling his hood off his head and crouching down next to you.

“Yeah, I’m alright. A little sore is all.” You reassured him with a strained and tired smile. The moon hung high in the sky still, it was painfully late at night and all you wanted at this point was to curl up in the comfort of your bed and finally go to sleep. But, you wanted to be an actress and that wouldn’t come to you without some hard work involved.

You hadn’t gotten many big auditions in your career. You had appeared on one to many commercials and had some small roles in TV shows and Dramas. It really was beginning to feel like you never were going to make it in the industry. This was the most work you had gotten in a while, and for once you were a key point in the story line. This time around, you had landed a gig for a re-enactment segment of a true crime TV show. You were playing a woman who had gone missing a few months ago in the parking garage of her college campus. The whole event had kicked up quite a fuss, the campus was in some deep shit. Because of their lack of security measures, a young woman with a bright future had been taken from the world. Since you were portraying her, you researched as much as you could about her disappearance as well as who she was. She was just another girl, much like you, who had made some reckless decisions and you felt for her. Her family was distraught, still looking for her with all of their time and effort. Many outsiders believed she had been dead for a long time though, her kidnapping too perfect with so little to go on that it had to have been planned perfectly. The most popular theory was that she had been abducted and was being trafficked. You hoped that wasn’t true.

You rose to your feet, dusting off your pants as you reached for the prop that was your bag once more. You couldn’t help but wonder what that night must have been like for her, how scared she was. But a greater part of you didn’t want to know.

“Congrats guys, that was the final take!” The director called, spurring weak cries of happiness from the tired crew members and yourself.

It would be nice to finally have a day off, to be able to relax in the comfort of your own bed with some warm food and a day of binging series on Netflix. And the paycheck, that would be nice too.

You hurriedly changed into the clothes you had been wearing before your arrival on set, the promise of sleep far too alluring during the early morning hours. Last you had checked, it had been almost two thirty in the morning. But you knew that beggars can’t be choosers, you needed the work even if it was tiring and sometimes shitty. So, for the most part, your complaints were kept to yourself. Your parents had warned you that this wasn’t going to be easy, they had begged you not to do something like this. It was an occupation with no security and no promises. It was unforgiving for many, and they had wanted you to do what every parent hoped for their child to do: become a doctor or a lawyer.

It was times like this that made you feel lucky that you had managed to save up some money over the years so that you could live on your own. Your apartment was far from luxurious, but it was yours. It was a safe haven where you didn’t have to worry about the scrutiny you had been subjected to by many family members. They had all thought you were incredibly foolish to throw away any chance of success for the career you wanted instead. But you couldn’t help yourself, for as long as you could remember you wanted to be somebody else. And acting was the only way you could do that. And it made you happy, so shouldn’t that be the most important thing? Why were you supposed to live your life for everyone else when you could be happy instead?

You rubbed your temples gingerly, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. Shit, you needed coffee or sleep. You sluggishly pulled your shoes on before standing up, wobbling slightly from fatigue, and making your way out of the dressing room and into the studio parking lot. You felt those familiar shivers from earlier roll down your spine. Playing someone who was kidnapped in a parking garage so late at night may not have been your best decision. Luckily, this was a parking lot. And this parking lot was lit by several flood lights and surrounded by tall chain link fences. Someone would have to be really determined and stupid to go after anyone here.

As you approached your car, you realized that something was off. There was something sticking out underneath your windshield wipers. You cocked your head in curiosity and stopped short, what was that? You gently lifted the wiper and pulled out the piece of paper, turning it over between your fingers. Upon further inspection, you realized it was a note. The handwriting was rather pretty with elegant curves and deep swoops decorating the scarlet paper. The paper felt nice against your fingertips, you had no doubt it was high end.

“You looked so beautiful today, I couldn’t help but be entranced by your performance.” It read.

You furrowed your brows, anxiety digging into your body. It would have been nice, had the note not been left on your car and left unsigned. There was another problem presented with this, how could someone be beautiful when they were pretending to be kidnapped? He thought you were beautiful pretending to be scared and violently thrashing against your co-star as you tried to escape his grasp.

Your fingers went slack, the dark note fluttering elegantly to the ground. Someone had to be screwing with you, that was the only viable answer. You had just filmed something that was rather terrifying to the average person, the crew was probably just pranking you as a send off from your final day of shooting. Yeah, that was probably all it was. Because to you, that made more sense then having some stranger watching you and leaving you cryptic notes. It was a shitty thing to do, messing with you like this, but it wasn’t unheard of. Besides, you were a nobody. You barely had a fanbase, there were only a few people who supported you after seeing some of your smaller roles in dramas. You had no stalker, virtually no fans, and no one who cares. You were fine.

You sighed in relief as you unlocked your car, sliding into the safety of the driver's seat and locking the doors as you did so. You were safe, you were fine. Sometimes, it was hard to separate reality from filming. And that was going to become the hard truth in the span of a few days.

When you woke up the next day, you were in for a shock. Your phone was lit up with so many notifications you thought somebody died. You groggily rubbed at your eyes and smoothed your wild hair down. You unlocked your phone and suddenly you were wide awake. It was your agent, she had been trying to contact you all morning. Your eyes flicked up to the top of your phone in search of the time. It was twelve forty-five in the afternoon. Shit, yesterday had really taken a toll on you. You quickly scrolled through the countless missed texts, trying to figure out what had happened. Most of the messages were here begging you to answer your phone, she was trying to tell you some “amazing” news that would change your life.

Now, more awake than ever, you checked your voicemail. You tapped the first message and almost dropped your phone from how loud her voice came through.

With a screech of your name she yelled: “I swear to God you better answer your phone! This is fucking huge! Call me as soon as possible!”

Your brows drew together in confusion as you clicked on to the next message. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, I know you’re tired but if you don’t pick up your goddamn phone I will come to your apartment and drag you out of bed myself! Wake the fuck up!”

You stifled a giggle at the last message, tempted to change your alarm to her voice yelling “...wake the fuck up.”

And the last message on your voicemail, now that one was superior to its predecessors. “Motherfucker! Call me now before I kick your fucking ass!”

With a laugh, you dialed her number and waited for her to pick up. Before the first ring could end she answered, screaming into the receiver before you could even get a hello in. “This is it! This is your big break babe! Kim Fucking Taehyung asked for you to be his co-star!”

Your heart dropped into your chest as butterflies erupted in your stomach. Kim Taehyung. Not only was he the most beautiful man on earth, but one of the most sought after and successful actors out there. His face was plastered everywhere you went, for his dramas, modeling, and advertising. And he asked for you, directly! You had never heard of him doing anything like this before, you may actually be the first person he has asked for to work with him. You had to admit, you were a little starstruck and you hadn’t even met him yet. Oh fuck, you had to meet him. How were you supposed to talk to him without floundering like a total idiot?

“Hello?! Are you listening to me?! He wants to meet up with you to discuss your role and see if you’re interested! I gave him your number so expect him to contact you, and for the love of God don’t fall asleep!” She cried into the phone, her voice stressed and annoyed. Your agent was young and ambitious, she wanted the best for you and if you screwed this up that would be the death sentence of your career.

“Yes I’m listening! This is a lot to throw at me all at once!” You yelped in response.

“That’s the business, baby! I gotta go, his agent’s been emailing all day about the details of this role. I’ll talk to you later, stay awake!” She said, her line cutting off promptly. That was just like her, speedy and efficient. Sometimes she seemed to move faster than the world around her, and you admired her for her efforts.

To your surprise, you had missed messages from an unknown number. Your heart hammered as you opened your messages. Right off the bat, you knew it was him. His first text was simply your name followed by a question mark and the rest followed suit.

“Your agent gave me your number, I’m Kim Taehyung.” His second message read.

“I wanted to contact you and see if you were interested in joining me as my co-star for my newest production. If you are, I would love to meet up with you. I’m set to meet the producers at four, so whenever you’re free feel free to send me a message.”

You honestly didn’t know what to expect from him. You were caught up in the fact that you now had the number of the most sought after man and were set to meet him while at the same time being giddy like a teenager. He seemed like any other guy from the texts he had sent you, and you had to remind yourself that he was just like any other person. He just had fame, good looks, and more money than you would ever know what to do with. No big deal.

Your eyes drifted towards the full length mirror nestled in the corner of your apartment. You could see your sleep ridden from tangled in the mess of blankets that cluttered your bed. You did not look remotely ready to see the most important person you would ever meet. You hesitantly stared at your phone, contemplating what would be a suitable response. Your fingers danced awkwardly over the keyboard, unsure of what you could say that wouldn’t make you seem too excitable, too cold, or too awe-struck. You couldn’t count how many times you deleted messages you were about to send before you finally settled on the best one.

“Hey, I’m definitely interested in discussing the work with you! I’m free any time after 1:30 to meet up.” There, friendly yet professional. That should do it.

Seconds after you sent the text, your phone lit up with a response that was startling fast. Had he been waiting for your answer?

All he had sent you was a location and a time followed by: “I’ll see you then.”

Holy shit, this was really happening. You were actually going to meet him and possibly even work with him if he found you to be a good fit. Fuck, you needed to get ready and that was going to be a whole other ordeal for the time being. The majority of the time you spent getting ready was devoted to what the fuck you were going to wear. How does one dress when they are going to meet a man who has done it all? In Particular, he was a model. How were you supposed to dress to meet a model? The man was the face of Gucci for fucks sake!

Your hand settled over your heart, it was thumping wildly as you tried to calm yourself. You could feel nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You needed to pull it together, you couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity. This is your last chance. You finally composed yourself, choosing an outfit that was comfortable yet professional and applying a light layer of makeup. You were fine, and you could do this. The key to success is confidence, and you had it. That was of course until it was flung out the window the moment you saw him in person for the first time.

He had sent you the location of a little cafe called “Omela’s.” He was sitting in a booth in the far corner by himself, his agent and team nowhere to be seen. He had the classic celebrity in disguise look that day, a black baseball cap with rings pierced through the brim, a pair of sunglasses folded beside him, and a dust mask. You chuckled to yourself while your heart jumped, it was impossible for someone like him to look inconspicuous.There were people whose eyes were drifting to him, attracted by the mere profile of his form. Like a moth to a flame, you were just as drawn to him.

You approached him hesitantly, you probably resembled a meek little mouse rather than an actress. You gently set your bag down on the seat and slid into the booth, his head jerking up from his phone as you settled down. He hooked a long finger into the strap of his mask and tugged, pulling it free from his god like features. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of his beautiful smile beaming just for you. Everything about him was perfect, renaissance artists would cry upon seeing his golden proportions. The only point of comparison to describe how he looked would be like a greek or roman statue, smooth unblemished skin with strong features that could have been carved from marble. It was a miracle you hadn’t melted into a puddle in your seat.

He extended his hand towards you as your name rolled elegantly off of his tongue. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice vibrated deep in his chest.

Your hand rose shakily as you attempted to grasp his much larger hand. You successfully managed to shake his hand while simultaneously marveling at the fact that you were holding his hand. You were embarrassed, sure that he noticed your evident fangirling as he chuckled while lightly stroking the top of your trembling hand sending your heart crashing into your ribs.

“You’re shaking,” He cooed, tilting his head lightly. “No need to be nervous, I won’t hurt you.”

What an odd thing to say.

“I know that,” You began, your voice breaking from nerves as you withdrew your hand and hid it in your lap. “I’m sure you understand though, many people believe they will never meet you. Me included.” You chuckled nervously.

“Yet here we are, fate has a funny way of showing itself, hm?” He hummed, his dark gaze never leaving your shy form.

“Fate? I don’t know about fate having anything to do with this.” You laughed, your mind filling with imagery akin to that of a young girl with a crush.

“On the contrary, I think you were destined for this role.” He replied, a tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he slid a dense script across the table. Right, you were here for work. Not for ogling the man so many had dreamed of having the chance to see in real life.

The script was thick for what you assumed would be the pilot episode. Your fingers lightly drummed the cover of it as you took in the name of the work: “Stigma.” You lifted the cover and viewed the first page, your eyes flicking across the sheet as you quickly read what was printed out.

“It’s about an obsessed stalker,” Taehyung spoke, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. “The show will follow him trying to win his favorite idol’s love while sabotaging any opportunities she comes across to find a lover. It will be pretty dark, he is obsessive and will go to great lengths to make her his. Murder, kidnapping, stalking, sex. It’s an intimidating role, but I can’t imagine anyone but you playing her.”

“I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this,” You sighed, shrinking back into your seat as the script fluttered closed. “I’m not exactly worth obsessing over, you know?” You laughed awkwardly, and you honestly believed that. You didn’t look like any female lead or idol you had ever seen, in fact you felt like less of a woman compared to them. And that was a shitty thought to have.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes darkening like a storm was brewing behind them. Had you offended him by what you said? His long fingers scooched the script to the side as well as the drink he had been sipping at, you noted it most definitely wasn’t coffee. The little fluffy marshmallows floating in the dark brew hinted at it being hot chocolate. That was surprisingly cute of him. As your thoughts trailed off, your gaze pinned to the sweet drink, Taehyung reached over the table and found your hands once more refusing to let you leave his grip. His eyes connected with yours, an intense silence ensued for a few moments as his thumbs comfortingly swept over your clenched knuckles. You wouldn’t be surprised if your heart had stopped that very moment, blood rushing to your cheeks and staining them crimson.

“If I didn’t think you could do this, I wouldn’t have asked for you.” He said, his tone matter of fact. “I see how you throw yourself into your work, no matter how small or insignificant it may appear to others you give it your all. I saw you on set last night and you were perfect, the way you can emulate fear and desperation so fluidly is something many actors aren’t able to do. You were meant for this role, I promise you it will feel natural.”

He saw you last night? Embarrassment ran hot through your body, a seasoned actor like him had watched your performance. Had you known he were there maybe you would have tried even harder, but whatever he had seen had impressed him beyond belief and made him believe you were the perfect one for the job without a shadow of doubt. If someone like Kim Taehyung thought you were good enough, then just maybe you were.

“I’m sure there will be plenty of other women in the casting call, some who are more experienced than I am.” You replied, flustered from his praise but still grounded enough to ask him the important questions.

“There will be no casting call,” He smiled. “You’re the one I want.” He said, his voice dropping as he tangled your fingers together, his deep eyes trained on the sight.

“No casting call? What do you mean?” You asked, shock and confusion evident on your face.

“As the creator of the show I’ve been giving some creative liberties, casting was one of them.” He explained in a nonchalant manner like what he had said didn’t really matter.

“You-you wrote this?” You asked, your nail tapping the cover of the script once more. He only hummed in response, his eyes glazed over as he continued gazing at your hands, his fingers delicately tracing and playing with your own like you were fine china prone to break with one wrong movement.

“This, this is really big.” You breathed, the reality of the situation washing over you.

You were being asked, personally, to be a lead in a show written by the Kim Taehyung. And not only that, but you would be sharing the screen together. This meant many things, obviously this would launch your career to new heights that you never anticipated would come to fruition. Secondly, you would be acting alongside the biggest celebrity of your generation. But, thirdly, there would be many people who would loathe you. Sure, Taehyung had shared the screen with many female leads but this storyline was going to be far different. It was dark, unrelenting, and jealousy inducing. You had seen other actresses treated poorly by his fanbase, their jealousy raging at the sight of him holding a woman. You feared what their reaction would be to seeing you, a nobody, sharing the screen with their idol.

Your cheeks burned hot as you carefully retracted your hands from his grip, reaching out to grasp and cradle the script he had delivered. His dark eyes tracked your movements with intensity, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. Was everything he did insanely hot?

“I know normally this wouldn’t be allowed, but do you think I could take this home and read it over before I make my decision?” You asked, eyes wide and begging. Hey, if you had to stoop that low to ensure you were making the right choice then fuck it you would go as low as the center of the earth.

His long lashes fluttered, he seemed taken aback and maybe even flustered. Had the tables turned that quickly? He bit his lip in thought and lightly nodded his head in agreement causing a smile to curl into your cheeks.

“I understand that you need to make an informed decision,” He mused after shaking his head lightly. “If you don’t tell then I won’t.” He winked, your heart hammering in response. Dammit, he was good.

~~~~~~~~~~

That night, you sat curled in your mess of sheets with a cup of tea steaming on your nightstand and the script in hand. Looking at Taehyung, you would never know he was capable of writing something so dark, so creepy, and twisted. Chills wracked though your body with each turn of the page. The main plot followed what would be you and him. He would be taking on the role of, as he said, your stalker. Your character would be, ironically, an accomplished idol with a large fan base. Taehyung would be your personal nightmare, making shady deals to find your whereabouts, showing up to your hotel room, stealing your possessions, leaving strange notes, murdering those who got too close to you. It was some pretty intense shit.

And there was even more to come if you accepted this role. And in all honesty, you were considering taking it for many reasons. Acting with Taehyung would be a once in a lifetime opportunity and this would launch your dying career. That may sound selfish but you deserved that didn’t you? Any one, man or woman would be crazy to deny this role.

So, that was that. You were decided. You reached for your phone and typed out a quick answer.

“I’m in.” Sent.

You relaxed your tense shoulders, fingers drumming against the thick paper resting on your lap. It was final, you were going to do it. All risks aside, you had made your decision for better or worse. Your relaxation came to an abrupt end when harsh knocks sounded against your door causing you to jolt from your seated position. Hesitantly you approached the door, desperately trying to avoid the creaky floorboards on the tips of your toes. You held your breath as you looked out the peephole, no one was there. You swiftly opened the door and popped your head out into the hallway. Still, there was no one. You stepped out into the hallway, jerking back as your foot brushed against something on the floor. Laying on the carpet in front of your door you were faced with a familiar sight, a piece of scarlet paper with elegant handwriting. You crouched down, swiping the paper and throwing yourself back into the safety of your apartment.

The person from before had left another note. What you once took as a practical joke suddenly became all too real. Scrawled across the paper were two simple words that sent chills through your body.

“Found you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Time seemed to fly after that night you had accepted the role and received the disturbing letter. You spent weeks on edge while preparing for filming, and in some terribly ironic way you supposed that incident was helping you as much as it terrified you. In a way you could empathize with your character now, you both were receiving little notes that scared the shit out of you. In your case, you had no protection. The police couldn’t do anything, all you had were two letters at the time you contacted them. Neither threatened your life or your safety so there was really nothing to do. That first week that letter appeared in front of your apartment, you went back home to see your parents. You slept in your childhood bedroom again, hoping that your parents could protect you from the monster like they had when you were a little girl. Sadly, that wasn’t the truth. At the end of the week you received another letter stained a deep scarlet.

This one read: “Peek a boo. I still see you.”

Well, now you were effectively shitting your pants. And still, there was not much that you could do about your situation.

Today was the first day of filming, you and Taehyung had already had your screen test and everything had gone so well you were honestly surprised. The dialogue the two of you read was relatively tame compared to what was to come for the rest of the show. Each episode would only get more and more intense. You found it quite humorous, for most of the season you would only be seen through pictures, posters, and “Youtube” clips surrounding his character. Obviously, as your character was an idol, your scenes together would be few. You still had a lot of work to do. There would be scenes of you dealing with the notes, with the losses of loved ones, scenes where you would be portraying intense paranoia, and scenes where you had to actually meet your stalker face to face. It would be a ride, that’s for sure.

You were in wardrobe and makeup for most of the morning. You never knew how exhausting it actually was to be confined to one space for so many hours, your ass cramping as you were forced to remain seated as the stylists perfected your hair and applied your makeup. You tried your best not to complain, not wanting to make their jobs any harder than they already were. And as uncomfortable as it was, you had to admit you looked amazing when they were finished. For a moment you actually felt like the idols you had seen on the other side of your screen and it was startling. So startling that it jolted you back to reality. But, if you worked hard enough, that fantasy could become a reality. That thought made it extremely hard to stop a beaming smile to erupt on your face.

Your name called with that familiar deep baritone sent you spinning around to find the source of the voice. And there he stood. The difference between the two of you was almost laughable, it took you back to the prince and the pauper. It really looked like you had switched roles completely. Where you were dressed in expensive clothes you could never hope to afford, Taehyung was dressed extremely casually. But still, he was incredibly handsome. No clothing could ever obscure that.

“Come with me.” He said with a gentle smile, waving his hand in a beckoning manner.

Without a second thought, you approached him and began to follow him to wherever it was he wished to take you. Your walk together was short and filled with amicable chatter as you closed in on your destination. It didn’t take you long to realize that he had brought you to his private room on set. He held the door open and gestured for you to enter, and you did. The room was dimly lit but rather lavish. You glanced around the room, taking in the atmosphere as you sat yourself down on an extremely comfortable couch.

He called your name again, directing your attention to his still standing form. “How are you feeling? I’m sure this can be overwhelming.”

“It’s a little different then what I’m used to,” You admitted with a nod. “But nothing that I haven’t dealt with before. This - this is really big for me though, you know? I just need to focus and not mess this up.”

Taehyung crossed the room in quick strides, coming to sit down beside you while simultaneously taking hold of one of your hands with a sweet smile. “You have nothing to worry about, you’ll be perfectly fine. And I’ll be there too, if you feel nervous then remember I’m right there watching you. You’ll never be alone.”

You returned his smile, slightly startled by the dark intense gaze he had settled on you. A part of you thought that those last few words he had spoken would have been perfect dialogue for his character had they been taken out of context. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to settle on anything but him in that moment. You stopped on a silver picture frame set on top of a table. The picture was slightly aged and depicted three children all with dark mops of hair. You pulled your hand free from his grip once more and stood, walking to the table to gently retrieve the picture from its resting place.

“Who’s this?” You asked, taking in the sight of the three kids giggling at one another in a flowering field behind what appeared to be a lake house.

Taehyung hummed before raising himself up and crossing the room. He came to a stop behind you and leaned forward, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he analyzed the picture as a blush bloomed on your cheeks and fondness came forth in his eyes.

“Childhood friends,” He answered with a tone that made it seem like he was drifting off far away from the confines of the room. “That’s me in the middle.”

Your attention was quickly drawn to the child with the boxy smile and bright eyes, his arms slung around the other two as they laughed freely. In the short time you had come to know Taehyung, you had never seen that unadulterated look of joy cross his calm features. It made you curious, wondering how such a great change could occur.

“Do you still see them?” You asked, refusing to turn your head knowing you would be literally nose to nose with him. Your heart wouldn’t be able to handle that.

You could feel his chest relax behind you as he let out a sigh. “Jungkook,” He pointed to the smaller child on the right, “is busy nowadays, almost as busy as me. He works under Agust Corp. and spends most of his time with his girlfriend.”

You could feel his breath mist over the shell of your ear as he leaned closer to point to the boy on the left with round chubby cheeks. “Jimin took over his grandfather’s shop and spends all of his time there. I still talk to him every now and then, he’s my best friend. But, I don’t think we’ve all been together since I was fourteen.”

“You should see them,” You suggested. “I know if I were them, I would miss my best friend.”

“You would miss me?” He asked, grabbing the picture frame and putting it down while grabbing your upper arm with his other hand and moving impossibly closer to you.

You felt your heart freeze in your chest as he pulled you in to him. He was playing around with you now, right? Taehyung knew everything that would make a woman swoon, as it was part of his job, and he never forgot to display those gifts for you. But you knew that where working with him would send your career rocketing to new heights, falling for him would be its death sentence. You knew it was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t afford a loss that great when you had already sacrificed so much.

A sharp knock to the door had you jumping, trying to pull away from his secure hold. But he didn’t move an inch, his dark eyes trained on your shocked form as he refused to release you. There was a part of you that was enamored with Taehyung, but also a part of you that recognized his strange mannerisms. Like for one, how he had been overly affectionate with you from day one.

You recognized the lilt of your agent’s voice as she called through the polished wood of the door, “You’re needed on set guys, let’s get a move on!”

The silence after she spoke was brief, a few moments later she was pounding on the door with a new found fury. That was her, impatient, cranky, and always aware of your whereabouts. You let out an amused giggle, raising your chin to get a look at Taehyung and immediately you felt your heart drop. You had never seen him like this before: infuriated. His jaw was locked, shoulders tense, and his hands were shaking. He looked like he was on the precipice of snapping and for a moment you felt genuine fear.

“Tae - Taehyung?” You asked, snapping him out of his terrifying stoic stance. It was like a switch had flipped, a bright smile cracking through the dark exterior he had built. What had happened just then?

“Let’s go.” He simply said, his previous demeanor completely disregarded as his large hand encircled your wrist and tugged once more. The more time you spent with him, the more he led you around like this, the more you began to feel like a dog being guided by its leash. You were given the freedom to wander some but were always snapped back to his side the moment he called.

You would soon come to learn that Taehyung was as controlling as he was beautiful, and that was a violent blend.

Something to know when filming for a show or a movie is that scenes are never filmed in the same order as the timeline of the work. Sometimes the first thing you film is the ending and the last thing you film is the beginning. That was something that always amused you in this world captured by cameras, time had no construct unless it was pertaining to deadlines. From what you understood, this was not Taehyung’s first day of filming, but it would be his first day of filming with you. He had completed some of his solo scenes, scenes you most likely wouldn’t see until the show premiered. That excited you, leaving some ambiguity to the show despite having read the script over and over again in preparation.

Today, you were filming the two of your character’s first meeting. You had noticed your co-star had made some changes to the script after the two of you had met, and in a strange way it reminded you of the first time the two of you had met in person. But, there was not much time to dwell on that when the director called out that familard word: “Action.”

A practiced smile graced your painted lips as you held the hands of the sweet fan in front of you. She shook with excitement as her eyes fluttered around, not sure where to fix her gaze to. You squeezed her hands lightly as your smile widened, coaxing her to ask the question she had been so timid to ask. You did everything right, the way you had been trained to. You gave the gentle smiles when needed, flirted when necessary, and signed what was given to you. You loved your fans more than anything, the fleeting seconds you could spend with them meant more than they could know, but you were tired. Trained eyes could see it in the slight discoloration under your eyes, the gentle sag of your shoulders, and the strain of your smile.

Your stalker saw all of this, and he was sure no one could know you better than he could. He owned all of your albums, watched every fan cam, had posters and framed pictures of you decorating his walls, and even swiped some of your stage clothes that one time he saved up enough money to bribe his way into your dressing room. His most prized possession was the chapstick he had swiped from your vanity, knowing that your lips had been pressed against it was enough reason for him to pocket it on his way out when his time ran out.

He could never have enough of you, that much he knew. What he really wanted was to have you as his own, his personal songbird caged in with him. What he would give to have you pressed against him every night, to not have to sneak around your hotel that he paid an outrageous amount of money to get the knowledge of. What would it be like, to have you choose him out of the millions of people at your disposal.

There were millions of people for you, but you were the only one for him.

He could feel his palms sweating the closer he got to you in line. There were only a few more people in front of him blocking his path to you. He had thought about this moment for weeks, thinking of what he was going to say to you to win you over, to maybe be lucky enough for you to write your number on the album instead of your name. God, what would that be like.

His mind was clouded with thoughts of you from the past few weeks, thumbing through his mental catalogue of your photos and videos. All he could ever think about was you and almost nothing else. He had lost friends for you, and if it were necessary he would get rid of everything for a chance to have you.

And there you were, the two of you only separated by a small table that he could easily lunge over if given the chance. You were sending him that beautiful bright smile that made him weak in the knees, he was lucky he was seated or he may have actually fallen. Your smile slipped as you noticed his pale face and shaky hands.

“Are you alright?” You asked in concern, reaching across the table to cradle his much larger hands in your own. He must have gone to heaven because there was no way you would have initiated touch with him. This had to mean something, maybe you really were meant for him. He had sent you countless notes, flowers, and gifts over the years. He was sure he had made his love for you known even though you had never seen his face.

“Perfect.” He breathed, squeezing your hands as his dark eyes bore into your own.

Your brows drew together in confusion as you tilted your head to the side. “I’m perfectly fine.” He clarified.

You nodded and smiled in understanding, attempting to pull one of your hands free from his tight grip. This was not unfamiliar territory. You pulled one of your charming smiles and fluttered your lashes.

“Can I sign that for you?” You asked, eyes flicking down to the blank album in between the two of you.

“She’s - she’s flirting with me?” He thought, cheeks flushing as he fumbled with his words only able to dumbly nod and release one of your hands. You signed it quickly with a flourish like you had done before many times. But he was certain he would find something else there than just your signature, after all the two of you were meant to be. Your perfectly manicured nails tapped against the cover of the album a few times in thought before you scribbled a quick design and slid it across the table. He was too distracted by you to even look at what you had done for him, his eyes glazed over in admiration as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

“Did you have a question for me?” You asked sweetly.

God, what question didn’t he have? If you allowed him too he would stay there forever with you, finding out every single little detail you would give him. He straightened his back, attempting to throw away the shy persona he had given to you. “Would you ever date a fan?”

You seemed taken aback at first, eyes lighting up in surprise as your mouth fell open slightly. He could feel the sudden urge to kiss you as he caught sight of those tantalizingly glossy lips. He leaned his chest against the table, unaware he was moving closer to you. You quickly recovered from the surprise of his question, the seemingly shy boy now exuding confidence. You gave him a gentle laugh and looked down at your joined hands, feigning shyness. You knew all too well how to react to a question like this.

“If they were a fan as cute as you I wouldn’t have a choice.” You cooed, watching his flushed cheeks burn darker if that were even possible.

His lips parted in an attempt to reply but before the words could leave his mouth a staff member was ushering him away. He had run out of time and barely had the chance to speak to you. His face clearly read as distressed and distraught, how could he be expected to leave you after that? And what could be worse than the fact that you hadn’t spared him a glance as he was sent away, your attention already preoccupied by the girl in front of you who was excitedly gushing at their idol.

He stood in the lobby for a while, frozen as he replayed the scene over and over in his head. He had been so close to you, he could remember your scent, the shade of your lipstick, and the beautiful smile you had graced him with. His long fingers fumbled with the album as he remembered the extra time you had taken with him. The light reflected off of his glasses and he held the album close, his eyes darting over it’s cover as he spotted your signature accompanied by a carefully drawn heart beneath it.

“She felt it too.” He breathed in shock, the tips of his fingers grazing the shape of the heart etched into the cover. His mind was set now, he knew what he had to do.

That was how he found himself in your dressing room, somehow by the grace of god able to sneak in. He had surveyed the entire room, looking at and touching everything he could. He rifled through her makeup drawer, removing and pocketing the gloss that had tempted him on her lips only moments before. He took what he wanted and what he thought wouldn’t be missed. And now, all he could do was wait for your return. And wait he would.

He had been settled into the lounge chair in the corner of the room when you returned. You looked more tired than you had before, your one hand looked stiff and uncomfortable after signing so many albums. He wanted to reach out and rub each delicate bone until the pain went away. You hadn’t noticed him as you opened up your travel bag, removing a change of clothes that would help hide your identity as you were smuggled out the back of the location the fansign was held at. He didn’t say a word as you checked over your appearance in the mirror, tapping at the makeup under your eyes as his presence still went unnoticed. It was when you began changing your clothes that things began to escalate. You had just removed your shirt when he made himself known.

The soft call of your name made you jump, your arms immediately crossing over your chest at the sound of another person’s voice. The panic and the fear was evident on your face as you realized who it was that had called out to you, it was that fan from before. You stumbled backwards in panic as he rose to his feet, crossing the room in quick strides. Your mouth fell open, ready to release a scream that he just knew would be as melodic and beautiful as your voice was. But, he couldn’t allow more of your time together to be wasted. His hand quickly sealed over your mouth as he pushed you back into the wall, cutting off any escape route. Your beautiful eyes were wide with anxiety and fear as you trembled beneath his touch.

“Hi, baby.” He hummed, his gaze tracing over the exposed curves of your body as he desperately tried to file everything he was seeing away in his memory. He was the only one who would get to see you like this, he wasn’t just another fan not when this sight was exclusively for him. You squealed in response, jerking away from his wandering touch. Tears were shining in your eyes as you could do nothing but endure his touch and his greedy gaze.

“I did what I was supposed to, right? That’s what you meant when you signed my album, right? I was supposed to find you, and I did. I knew you felt it too, that it wasn’t just me that realized there was something deeper between the two of us. I’ve been watching and waiting for years, learning everything about you so that I could be perfect for you.You said it yourself, you would only date a fan as cute as me. No one can love you better than I can.” He said, his words coming out fast and frantic as he tried to meet your eyes. You were shaking harder now, your eyes clenched shut as tears poured down your cheeks and onto the skin of his hand.

Those dark eyes followed the stream of tears running down your face, becoming entranced by the sight before him. Without any thought, he leaned forward and licked a stripe from the top of his hand to the skin beneath your eyes tasting the salty tear on the tip of his tongue. You jumped again in disgust and panic, recoiling so hard you knocked your head back into the wall behind you. He tilted his head back in ecstasy, a moan breaking free from his lips at the taste that tainted his tongue. A twisted part of him hoped that piece of you would be inside of him forever, that that single tear would tie the two of you together for an eternity.

There was a long silence held between the two of you, the room only being filled by his harsh pants of air and your choked sobs. He knew there wasn’t much time until security came to collect you, and he refused to waste these precious moments he had with you. Without any warning he ripped his hand free from your mouth and sealed his own lips to yours in a hungry kiss. He was having none of that. He freed one hand to curl in the hair at the base of your neck and pin you in place while his other hand wrapped around one of your wrists, you could feel his tongue rolling over your lower lip as he groaned in delight.

“Cut!” The director called, allowing your body to relax from it’s previous tension. But, despite the call of the director, Taehyung did not move. He stayed exactly where he was with his lips sealed tightly to your own. For a moment you thought he hadn’t heard the classic call that always ended a scene, but he was very much aware just unwilling to part ways from you. You rested your hands on his shoulders and gave him a squeeze before jerking your head to the side to breath in a gulp of air. You could feel his forehead fall to your shoulder as his body shuddered with each breath that he took.

“That was great guys, let’s take a quick break and recoup in five.” The director continued as the two of you remained entwined together. You could feel how hot your cheeks were as Taehyung remained frozen against you, your heart thudding loudly from what had just transpired. You felt him let out another deep shuddering breath before he began to slowly pull away from you, only stopping when your eyes connected and you were practically nose to nose. Before you thought your heart was going to fly out of your ribs, now it felt like it was sinking into your stomach. There was a look in his eyes that you had seen just moments before, and the fact that the two of you were no longer acting made everything so much worse. He looked pissed, annoyed that the director had come in between the two of you. And the lust was there too, that was something you could see buried behind those deep eyes of his. He looked deadly, like a predator being disturbed in the middle of their meal.

That thought sent you reeling, slapping his hands away from your body as you spun on your heel and headed in the direction of your dressing room. In that moment, it had felt like the acting was no longer acting and that was no more disturbing than the scarlet letters that followed you for weeks. You slammed the door to your room shut, twisting the lock behind you as you leaned back against the wood. What the fuck was that?

You rubbed your temples in distress as you peeled yourself free from the door, slowly approaching the large mirror and vanity resting against the wall. Your makeup had taken a hit, that was for sure. Your lipstick and gloss had been smeared and your hair was mussed from the scene you had just filmed. You were still shaken up from what had just occurred, you had never seen a look quite like that cross his face before, what you had seen when your agent came to retrieve you was nothing compared to what you had just witnessed. He was scary, he looked more like his character than he did himself. And in all honesty, you didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. Maybe you were just overreacting, maybe he had just gotten caught up in the scene, maybe you were just being over dramatic?

You could think all of these thoughts but you knew one thing: there was no denying the tangible fear that had shot through your body like electricity. When he had pulled away from you, you felt more like prey than anything else. Maybe you would have to start worrying about him as well as everything else that life was throwing your way. All you had to do was get through with filming the show, there weren’t even that many scenes where the two of you were together. You could do it.

The rest of the day had passed by in a blur, your makeup artists and stylists in a frenzy as they tried to piece you back together after the previous scene you had filmed. You did the best you could with the time you had left, the scenes you filmed weren’t that major to the plot past that point. You were filmed interacting with your “fans”, entering the building, and exiting the building with your security detail. Past that, you were done for the day and would have to continue filming the next day.

The relief you felt when you were finally out of your set clothes and makeup was indescribable. You rubbed your face tiredly as you slipped on your hoodie, ruffling your messy hair as you rolled your shoulders. Filming was always exceptionally tiring, you were up at the crack of dawn and never left work until the sun was long gone. You were so tired that at first you didn’t notice the scarlet letter stuck to the fabric of your bag. Your fingers froze at the hem of your hoodie, unwilling to move at the sight before you. That oh so familiar paranoia began to creep up on you, crawling up the length of your spine and raising the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

This person was ballsy, you could give them that. It seemed that no matter where you went, how secure a place was supposed to be, they always found you without fail. You released a shaky breath, hesitantly approaching the little piece of paper. What would it say this time? What would be scrawled across the deep paper in elegant swoops that masked a terrifying message?

You raised a shaky hand toward the note and just as your fingers were about to brush the paper, the door slammed open. You jumped with a pitched scream as your hand flew up to grip the fabric of your hoodie over your chest. There in the doorway stood Taehyung, eyebrows screwed up in confusion with a drink held in each hand.

“Fuck, Taehyung!” You cried, leaning against the vanity chair as you tried to calm yourself after the sudden surprise. Said male rushed forward, setting the beverages on the vanity top so that he could rest his hands on your shoulder in what should have been a comforting manner

“Don’t you knock? I could have been changing!” You cried, slapping his shoulder in irritation. Not only were you tired but you had been scared shitless.

“I wouldn’t have complained.” He laughed with that cute boxy grin of his. “You okay? What’s got you so nervous?”

You sighed, your lashes fluttering shut as you gave yourself a moment to recoup. “I’ve been getting these notes for the past few weeks, they’re really creepy and no matter where I go I keep getting them. I just - I don’t know what to do.”

“What like a stalker? He asked, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of your sweatshirt.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You sniffed, scrubbing at the skin beneath your eyes with a sleeve covered hand. “I’m just so tired, Tae. I thought maybe it was a prank but it hasn’t stopped and it’s really scaring me. They’ve shown up everywhere, my car, my apartment, my parents house, and now in my own dressing room.”

He looked at you with a sympathetic expression before tugging you into his chest to wrap you up in a warm hug. You did your best to hide your shuddering breaths, trying to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t start crying over his very expensive shirt.

“It’s gonna be okay,” He cooed, stroking your hair lightly. “I’ve had my fair share of stalkers too you know. Eventually they give up, they won’t stick around forever.”

You shook your head from side to side in response, burrowing yourself into the comfort of his embrace. “It doesn’t feel like it, I just want to be left alone.”

“I know, I know.” He hummed, keeping you pressed tightly to him. “Tell you what, I’ll walk you to your car alright? We’re staying in the same hotel, right? If you need me I’ll be right there, there’s no need to be scared when there’s cameras, security, and me. That’s a lot of things to get through.”

You remained still for a moment, breathing in the scent of his cologne as you calmed down. He was right, if someone really wanted to get to you they would have to be exceptionally determined to go unnoticed. You finally peeled yourself off of him despite his strong hold on you. You sent him a gentle smile, thanking him for putting up with you.

“I’ll be waiting outside, okay? Come out whenever you’re ready.” He said with another sweet smile, how had you been so scared of him before? This Taehyung was vastly different from the one you had been with hours earlier. You shook your head in disbelief, unsure as to what you could believe anymore. Maybe this was all in your head, maybe you were blowing things out of proportion.

But, the flash of red paper from the corner of your eye was another stark reminder of reality. You braced yourself, snatching the slip of paper from your bag and inspecting it hastily.

It simply read: “I want to kiss you.”

Your face screwed up in anger and humiliation as you violently ripped the note apart, slamming the scraps into the trash bin. Whoever they were, they had clearly been present for the scene you filmed with Taehyung. Your cheeks flushed red as you yanked your bag onto your shoulder and flung the door open practically flying out of it.

This answered your question. No, you weren’t overreacting.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back to the hotel was quick, in all honesty you had probably broken a few traffic laws in your rush to distance yourself from the letter. Taehyung had been an absolute sweetheart, bringing you a hot lemon tea and walking you to your car to make sure you felt safe. He really was a great co-star and a great friend, you couldn’t ask for anyone better than him.

Despite being terrified out of your mind from what had transpired moments before, you felt ready to fall asleep at any moment. Your eyes were heavy, fluttering shut before you could even remove your clothes and change into your pajamas. You did your best to stay awake, forgoing your pants and socks to just crawl into bed in your hoodie and messy hair. Pajamas would have to be forgotten tonight.

You had never slept deeper than you ever did that night. You didn’t remember waking up once, you felt like you had been asleep for years. When you rolled over to check the time on your phone it sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. You had overslept, by a lot. You ripped your sheets clean from your body and stumbled out of bed, nearly falling over from a feeling you hadn’t had when you crawled into the comfort of the hotel sheets. There was an ache in between your legs and, to your embarrassment, your thighs were slick.

Did you have a wet dream? What the hell, you weren’t some horny teenager why was this happening now? Not only were you running late, but now you needed a shower. You stumbled to the bathroom, pausing to allow the ache between your legs to fade. Something wasn’t right, if you had a dream then why did you feel like this? You shook the thought from your head, you didn’t have time to worry over something that was probably nothing. Right now, you needed to focus on getting ready and making it to the studio before you pissed off a lot of people.

You took the fastest shower of your life, flying through your hotel room like a bat out of hell trying to grab everything you needed for the day. By the time you made it to the studio you had your team, once again, in a frenzy trying to prepare you for the day with what little time they had. Apologies spilled from your lips as they ushered you into a chair and began working on you immediately. Today was making you feel more like an inconvenience than an actress, that was for sure.

The door to your dressing room slammed open, almost hitting the wall from the force it was opened with. Your agent stood there with a frantic look on her face before catching sight of you. She quickly walked across the room before throwing a stack of papers on the vanity and slapping your shoulder aggressively, spurring a yelp from your throat.

“You were sleeping again, weren’t you?! Honestly, how hard is it to set an alarm?! You just want me to have a stroke before I’m thirty don’t you?” She yelled, each sentence being emphasized with a smack to your arm.

“I’m sorry!” You cried in between fits of laughter, it was hard not to find her amusing when she was angry. “I didn’t mean to, my alarm didn’t go off!”

“Am I going to have to start waking you up every morning like your mother? Really, of all days for you to be late you chose today.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There’s been a change to the script, read it and be ready.”

You lifted the papers from the vanity and quickly began flipping through them. “A script change?! This is a whole new scene!”

“Yes, captain obvious.” She chuckled. “Read it now and memorize, if you were here on time you would have had more time to read it and practice. You don’t need to worry too bad though, you don’t have many lines.” She said with a wink before turning on her heel and walking away.

What did she mean you don’t have many lines? You began flipping through the pages once more, this time actually reading everything that had been printed. Oh. Oh, so that’s what she meant. By the time you had memorized everything, you were flushed red. How were you supposed to do something like this when you hadn’t even had the time to properly mentally prepare yourself? This was a lot to throw at you in such a small amount of time. But, at least your agent was right and you had one less thing to worry about, you really didn’t have many lines.

You could feel butterflies in your stomach working up a storm as your stylist applied the final touches to your makeup, fuck you were really hoping you could make it through this. Your stomach was still turning as you approached the set, your hands clenched together as you did your best to calm yourself down before the scene started. The first thing you noticed was that you didn’t see Taehyung anywhere, it was odd because normally he was always in sight.

You took another deep breath, willing the anxiety to go away as you stepped foot into the faux hallway that had been constructed. People filmed these sorts of scenes all the time, it was nothing to worry about. If they could do it, then so could you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned your body against the wall behind you. This would be easy, all you had to do was act natural. East enough, right?

With that final thought, the director signaled the beginning of the scene.

He could tell you were drunk, giggles were slipping free from your lips as you hugged the wall in an attempt to stay upright while the world spun around you. Your makeup was messy, mascara slightly runny and your lipstick smudged. But you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. You let out a cheer in victory as you finally found the door to your hotel, clumsily sliding the keycard through the slot before stumbling into the darkness of your room.

Once you were out of sight, the door shut behind you, he fished his phone out from the pocket of his jeans. A few taps later and he had accessed the cameras he had positioned around your room. It was dark still, you hadn’t turned on the lights but he could still see you tripping over your things on the floor and bumping into the furniture veiled by the darkness. He could hear you drunkenly berating yourself, upset that you hadn’t turned the lights on so that you could see. You were adorable.

Once your hands connected with the plush mattress you laughed, proud of yourself for making it to bed all on your own. You kicked your shoes off, one coming free easier than the other. His eyes darkened as he watched your delicate fingers scramble to find the waistband of your pants, shakily falling back onto the bed and raising your hips in an effort to wiggle the fabric down your legs. Once free, your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, twisting and pulling it in an attempt to remove it instead causing you to get tangled up in it just above your breasts, let out a swear, and roll over under the covers in resignation.

He could feel his breath quickening, the once steady rise and fall of his chest becoming frantic as he stared at your half naked body on the other side of his screen. He hadn’t intended to become aroused, but he couldn’t help it when everything about you was so damn tempting. He could still remember what it felt like to have your pliant lips pressed against his own, and that certainly wasn’t helping with the situation you had created in the confines of his jeans.

He was yours, and you were his weren't you? Would you really mind if he had found his way into your room, in your bed, in you? An unbridled moan escaped his chest as he thought about holding you against him, feeling your wet, tight, heat wrapped around him. It wouldn’t be wrong if he loved you, right? You were going to be together, so it shouldn’t matter if your first time together was now.

Without another thought, he pulled out your spare room key and slid it into the card reader. There was no going back now, he wanted, no, needed to have you for himself. The door swung open without a creak, the darkness of your room staring back at him as he stood there for a moment considering what he was about to do. After that moment, he took a deep breath and slammed the door shut behind him completely swallowing the room in the darkness. He was sure he knew your room better than you did, watching it from his camera’s everyday he had no issue navigating the space through the dark.

His fingers grazed the covers of the bed he knew you were laid out on, his breathing was struggling again. It was like he was intoxicated every time he was exposed to your presence. You were a drug he could never get enough of, and he knew that if he took you now there was no going back. His fingers lightly traced up the length of the mattress before freezing when he came in contact with the smooth expanse of your thigh. Fuck, you felt so soft beneath his touch. You groaned slightly in your sleep, legs twitching in response to his touch. Your leg hitched up higher onto the mattress as you pushed yourself chest and face first into the pillows under you.

He could feel his pants becoming tighter as his arousal grew harder. You had to know what you were doing to him, there was no way you were this alluring even when you slept. He practically went weak in the knees when a sweet sleepy whine escaped you, his hand twisting the sheet up in his fist. Fuck, did he want you. It almost hurt from how much he needed you. Without a second thought he pulled the sheets from your body, groaning at the sight of your panty clad ass. The room was deathly quiet as he stared at you with bated breath, his heart sounding like thunder amidst the quiet.

He had made his decision. The clinking of his belt buckle ruptured the silence as he frantically tried to remove his clothes, he wanted to be able to feel you against him more than anything. He climbed onto the bed as quietly and smoothly as he could, pulling the sheets up with him to trap your heat under the covers with him. A deep groan shook in his chest as he pulled you against him, feeling your bare flesh against his own for the first time. What he would give to have you like this every night. He hooked his arm under your own, pulling you back into his chest while pressing his forehead into your shoulder blades and his hips pushed forward while his free hand came down to -

“Taehyung, what-” You whispered in shock, breaking character from what he had just done.

Where he was supposed to just be miming the action of thrusting into you, his hips and more specifically his boner was rutting against your clothed core while his arm had hooked under your waist to stroke your clit in tight circles. You whined as he pressed down harder, shoving your face further into the pillows.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” He cooed, his warm breath misting over the shell of your ear. “You don’t want them to see what we’re doing, right? You’re supposed to be asleep.”

Another grunt left his throat as he rutted against you harder than before, his hard length hitting your clit once he removed his fingers, raising his now free hand to cup your breast beneath your shirt. You could feel him beginning to pull you back against him and down with each frantic motion of his hips. You couldn’t help the needy whines escaping you, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to have the friction against your sensitive clit. You desperately tried to remain still, to not bring any attention to what was actually going on beneath the cover of the sheets.

He moaned louder this time, roughly yanking one of the cups of your bra over your chest allowing him to cup your free breast in one hand while he began to plant desperate, hot, wet kisses to the column of your neck. Your eyes were screwed shut tightly as you felt his fingers deftly rub and pinch your sensitive nipple. Without even realizing you were doing it, your hips were rolling back into his, rolling your swollen clit against the hardness of his concealed cock. You could feel your walls clench and flutter each time he rubbed up against your clit, panting as you tried to stop any noises from breaking past your lips.

“So perfect.” You heard him mumble between moans, his hips pistoning faster than before and working your core harder. “So good for me.”

You could feel yourself clenching at his words, his voice dripping with lust as he squeezed your breast and ceased his kisses in favor of sucking a necklace of hickies into the side and back of your neck. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, but you were too lost in the haze of pleasure to notice anything but the ache in your core and how you were getting rid of it.

His hold was borderline bruising as he humped your clothed core, he was unrelenting, needy, and vocal.

You gasped as the tension in you grew, tingles shooting through your clit as you ground down harder on him. You knew that you were going to cum soon, the friction between the two of you just too good and too warm. You were embarrassed, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t contribute to your arousal. You had forgotten there were countless people watching the two of you, cameras recording every second and the thought of them spectating but not knowing what was really going on was enough to send another gush of wetness forth as your heart hammered pathetically fast in your chest.

Your hips shook as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you squeezed your eyes shut and fisted the sheets in your tight grip. You could feel his moans vibrating in his chest against your back as he pulled you back harder and harder against his aching cock. You felt him release your breast, his hand coming down to grip your thigh hard and pull it to the side to stop you from clenching your legs together in pleasure. Another soft whine broke through you as you forced yourself to remain still as he tilted his hips up and pulled again, the tension in you finally snapping as you came undone muffling your cry with a pillow, your core spasming around nothing as you trembled in pleasure, raising your hips back into each needy thrust.

“There you go,” He mumbled into your shoulder, working your clit through your orgasm. “So good for me, baby.”

You panted helplessly in the throes of pleasure, so overwhelmed you almost didn’t notice how close he was getting. His pace was faster, rougher, and desperate the closer he got to his end.

“Such a dirty little girl, cumming in front of all these people.” He grunted lowly. “I bet you want them to know what we’re doing.”

You whined in refusal, still not moving from your position as he worked you into over sensitivity.

“Don’t lie to me, your panties are fucking soaked.” He hissed, his abs clenching as he felt himself getting right to the edge. “You wish they knew, you want them all to know that you're mine.”

He was about to come, he was right there and all he needed was one little push from you. “Say that you’re mine baby, say it.” He groaned.

“I’m yours.” You whispered, so quietly he thought he could have imagined it. But, it did the trick and after one more glide against your wet panties, he was creaming his underwear.

And, with perfect timing, the director ended the scene.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were confused, to put it lightly. You didn’t really know how to feel about what just happened. Anyone would have been freaking out about getting to do that with their idol, but did you really want to do it? He hadn’t asked you if you wanted to, but then again you never told him no. But could you have? What if you had made a scene and freaked out, what would that mean for the crew if you backed out then and there? Who would believe you that something like that was going on when everyone would take Taehyung’s word over yours. You were nobody. Fuck, you came for him, you liked what he did didn’t you? So what’s the big deal, why were you feeling this way? Had he done this before, to someone else? Were you just another notch in his belt too?

You were going to have to talk to him, whether you wanted to or not. You need answers, you weren’t just going to sit there dazed and confused after that. He had explaining to do.

That was how you found yourself sitting in his dressing room, your teeth nervously sinking into your lower lip as you waited for his return from set. And you didn’t have to wait long either. When he opened the door and caught sight of you seated on his couch his face lit up. He called your name with a fond smile as he swiftly crossed the room, settling down in the open space beside you on the couch.

“Tae, what was that?” You asked, your eyes nervously staring at your fingers playing with one another.

“What do you mean?” He asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

“What happened on set, what was that?” You asked, still refusing to look at him.

“I made you cum.” He said matter of factly, you could hear the grin in his tone as you felt his hand come to gently rest on your knee as he tried to look at you properly.

Your face burned in embarrassment as you struggled to find the words to respond to him. “Yes, I know, I was there. Why did you do that though?”

There was a pause of silence passed between the two of you, his brows drawn together in confusion like he didn’t understand how you didn’t know the answer. “I thought it was pretty obvious, baby. I love you, I want to make you feel good and let them know you’re mine. I’ve seen the way all those men look at you, it’s disgusting. They should know they are nothing, they don’t deserve you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs as he spoke, your heart pounding harder with each sentence that left his mouth.

“You said it yourself, you’re mine.” He said, his fingers lightly holding your chin as he turned your head to face him directly. His eyes were dark again, that fleeting look you had seen so many times reappearing. “You weren’t lying, were you?”

“Taehyung,” You whispered, your voice trembling with each word you spoke. “You don’t love me, you barely even know me.”

“Of course I love you, sweetheart. I thought that was clear when I sent you all of those letters, I love you so much.” He hummed, his hand raising to grasp a stray strand of your hair, twirling it with his fingers.

For a moment, you thought you had misheard him. But when he said nothing more, and that look didn’t leave his eyes, you knew it was true. He was the one behind the letters that had tormented you for months on end. He had followed you everywhere you went, your car, your apartment, your parents house, your dressing room, it was all making sense now. How he was so easily able to find you, to sneak around you and leave those scarlet notes. He had all the money, power, and time in the world to track you down whenever he wanted.

“You left the letters?” You breathed in horror, your eyes brimming with tears.

“Just for you, princess. I had to admit, at first you were a little tricky to find but you would be surprised how a little money can go a long way. There are a lot of bad people out there with a lot of information, but one little favor can open a lot of doors for you.” He explained with a content look falling over his face. “You said I don’t know you, but I know everything about you: where you were born, who your parents are, where you went to school, who your childhood friends are, who your ex’s are, even the fucking porn you watch. I know everything.”

The fear was obvious from the shaking of your body to the labored breaths leaving your chest and the deer in headlights look gracing your face as he rubbed circles into your back, pressing a kiss to your frozen lips.

All of the pieces had come together, one by one falling into place. He was insane, he was your stalker who held so much power over you it was unbelievable. You thought back to the scenes you had acted out with him up until this point, they were all eerily similar to the real life events that had taken place between you two. The fansign was the reflection of your first meeting, the kiss in the dressing room was what would have happened had your agent not interrupted, and the scene in the hotel room…

“Taehyung,” You said, your voice strained as you tried your hardest not to break down. “I woke up this morning late, it felt like I had sex when I didn’t.” There was silence for a while, your body tensed as you waited for his response.

“I love you.” He whispered, cradling your hand in his own.

Without another thought you slapped his hand away from yours, standing up from the couch in rage. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Baby, please-”

“No! Stay the fuck away from me you fucking creep!” You screamed, turning to run from him only to be stopped by his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tightly to his chest as you struggled and screamed.

“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled, clamping his hand down over your mouth as you wriggled against his hold, muffled screams leaving your body.

“You don’t get it do you?” He bit out, the veins in his neck bulging in anger as he threw you down onto the couch. “I said I love you, everything I do for you is because I love you. You need to realize, princess, that I’m your biggest fan. You need to understand that no one can love you better than I can.”

His words chilled you to the bone, that familiar line from the script coming back to slap you in the face. How could you have never realized he was writing about you? If you had just looked hard enough you would have been able to figure it out, you would have seen the evidence as clear as day, you would have found the cameras in your hotel room. But, instead, you had blindly trusted him like anyone else would have too. But you weren’t just anyone else. You were the unfortunate recipient of his dark, twisted, affections.

He quickly climbed on top of you, one knee lodged between your legs as he pinned your wrists down above your head. “What do you say, princess? Wanna pick up where we left off?” He taunted you, that smile you used to adore now sent ice through your veins.

“Fuck you,” You spat. “I’ll scream, I swear to God. I’ll tell everyone what you did.”

“And who’s going to believe you?” He asked, feigning confusion. “Who will they trust? Some nobody actress who was lucky enough to catch a break? Or me? Think wisely, baby.”

You felt defeated, he was right. There was no one who would believe you. Maybe not even your agent. He was Kim Taehyung, and you were no one. You were outmatched, he had you cornered and he knew it. There was nothing that you could do. Your body lost its tension, falling limp beneath him as the tears began rolling down the curves of your cheeks. He cooed in adoration, pressing gentle kisses to each tear that fell down your face.

“There’s my good girl.” He said, peppering light kisses to your cheeks as you trembled beneath him. “So smart and compliant.”

You said nothing, too afraid to anger him or to hear more deluded nonsense spill from his mouth.

“Nothing to say?” He mused with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to your collarbone as he fiddled with the buttons of your shirt. “We have a lot of time we’ll be spending together, better tell me now before it’s too late.”

Another shot of anger flared up inside of you. “I hope you burn in hell.”

He raised his face from your chest, that dark gleam to his eyes hard and present. You could see how amused he was with your situation as a smirk carved it’s way into his cheeks, plucking a button on your shirt open with one finger.

“Oh baby, are you calling me a sinner?”

#bts #bts taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts fanfic #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader

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nanagoswife · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 100! I was wondering if I could request something?

I was thinking obi wan and padawan reader could be out on a mission, and then reader accidentally gets themselves in a dangerous situation; Obi wan comes in and saves them, ofc, but then scolds them because they could've gotten seriously hurt, and how could you have done something like that without thinking?? But then he realizes reader just went through a really scary experience, so he gives them a hug and comforts them and tells them how much they mean to him, and how badly it would hurt if he lost them 🥺

Romantic (reader is over 18, ofc) or platonic, totally up to you! ((if you go for romantic, bonus points if the comforting leads to obi wan to confessing his feelings!))

Thank you! And of course! Also, it was almost a no brainer that I did something romantically 😜 without further or do, here is the story...

Hanging From The Cliff

W/C: 2.5k

Warnings: violence, mention of attempted assassination, mention of blood, angst?

Tree branches and leaves whipped at your face as you ran through the forest after a bounty hunter that you and your master had been tracking. They had made a move against the senator from Kashyyyk that had narrowly been avoided thanks to you and your master.

Your master happened to be none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. In reality, he wasn’t much older than you. The two of you did a lot of training together when you were both padawans still. With your previous master’s passing, though, the council put you under the supervision of Obi-Wan for your last couple years of training.

The two of you were very close friends and you both worked extremely well together. That was why the council paired you with Obi-Wan. Though, some members of council disproved of the pairing for a time, due to how the two of you seemed a little too close. That was something you had to hide. You had always convinced yourself that, not only was it against the code, but that there was no way he felt the same about you.

It had been strange at first, calling him your master, but soon enough, it hadn’t mattered. The situation made for a good joke quite often.

Now, you weren’t focused on that, but rather the masked bounty hunter that you could faintly see through the brush. Obi-Wan had got caught in the rush of traffic, meaning that you were the only one to do this.

Slowly, you were gaining on them. Give it another bit, and you’d have them in binders, ready to be brought back to Coruscant.

That was the plan as you got ready to break out into the clearing ahead. It was the plan, until you were met by at least ten more bounty hunters all gathered together by a cliff. How did you not sense this?

Desperately, you skidded to a halt so that you could stay close enough to the trees for any potential cover. This proved to be useless as every blaster shot had you blocking and moving ever closer to the cliff.

All you had to do was keep this up until Obi-Wan showed up. You could only hope that he was almost here.

Suddenly, a wire spun and wrapped around your wrist that did not hold your lightsaber. Slightly turning your head, you saw that one of the bounty hunters had snuck his way so that he was just out of your vision.

With the wire around your wrist, he tugged at it to throw you off balance. Although it did make you take a step, you kept your attention on blocking the blaster fire.

Noticing this, the bounty hunter tugged at the wire harder, pain shooting through your wrist as it started to dig into your flesh.

As you kept this up, you kept drawing closer to the cliff until you were struggling to not shift your foot over the steep ledge. Catching a glance downwards, it was higher than you anticipated. Even with aid from the force, you wouldn’t survive.

Your hope for Obi-Wan’s aid started to dwindle. It had been quite a while since this all started. Surprisingly, you were only escaping with the scratches from the chase, the agonizing chafing from the wire, and a slight graze of a blaster that did more damage to your robes than it did your shoulder.

All of this considered, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up. There were no less of them than when this all started. You were more focused on staying unscathed than trying to lessen the numbers.

That’s when you saw five more bounty hunters join in. The once manageable task was now one that was mere impossible. Not only that, but it distracted you from the one that was still tugging at the wire.

What you hadn’t noticed was that they had managed to tie the other end of the wire to a tree. They had then snuck closer to you, enough that you still wouldn’t notice. Even when he kicked one of your legs out from under you.

Desperately, you tried to maintain balance. You desperately tried not to follow your instinct to plant your foot behind you. Despite your best efforts, you could not gain your balance back. So, you fell.

It was almost as if your heart temporarily left your body. That was, until searing pain shot through your wrist as your fall was abruptly stopped by the wire. It caused you to slam up against the cliff face fiercely. After a moment, your swinging stopped and you were left dangling vulnerably.

You tried to figure out a way to get out of this, but there were no solid footholds on the cliff. Then, if you tried to swing, you didn’t know if the tree that this wire was tied to would be strong enough. Not only that, but the bounty hunters were all still up there.

“Not so tough now, are you Jedi?” one leaned over the edge and yelled.

In response, you grimaced as they managed to jiggle the wire, causing pain to shoot through you again.

“As much as we would love to watch you fall, we think we’re going to leave you hanging. The pain must be excruciating!”

It really was, but you weren’t going to tell that to the very ones who were using this as entertainment. All you did was stay silent, afraid that the pain you felt would echo in your words. Not only that, but you were terrified. You had been this whole time, but none more so than now. On top of that, you were starting to lose hope that Obi-Wan would find you here.

Distantly, you heard more voices yelling about another Jedi that was approaching. You could only hear as they all scrambled to their ships and watched as they took off. Even though this meant that your mission had failed, you were relieved to know that he actually was almost here.

So, you dangled helplessly from your wrist until he got here. It was screaming in pain as the wire had now dug into your flesh and now was just irritating it further with any movement. You could feel as blood was starting to drip down your arm.

You waited for what felt like an eternity until you heard, “Y/N?”

“Obi-Wan,” you tried to yell as loud as you could. You could sense his worry as he could hear you but didn’t see you. “The wire,” you called out, trying to help him find out where you were.

After a moment, you saw his head pop out over the edge of the cliff.

“What are you doing?” he asked teasingly.

“Hanging out until you came to find me,” you quipped back only to wince as you moved too much.

Seeing this, Obi-Wan saw how the blood was running down your arm. “Okay, I’m going to pull you up but it’s going to hurt.”

All you could manage was a nod as you mentally prepared yourself, using the force to help brace yourself. You could feel as Obi-Wan had grabbed the wire and only slightly tugged at it. Although even that hurt, it was an indicator for you to prepare for much worse.

When he began to pull you up, everything happened in a blur. There was so much pain, but it seemed almost as though it took no time at all until you were laying on solid ground.

So much relief filled you as the pressure from your wrist loosened and wasn’t constantly rubbing.

Obi-Wan was by your side in an instant, checking how badly your wrist was cut up. It was bad, but it wasn’t bad enough that it would cause permanent damage with the aid of the bacta patches he had on him combined with further treatment later.

Carefully, he sat you up so that he could properly tend to your wrist with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but be soothed by his fingers softly grasping your arm to hold it steady. His touch had always made you feel a comfort that you knew shouldn’t be there.

He had also seen the blaster graze on your shoulder, but that was a mere scratch compared to your wrist. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be surprised if your wrist was even possibly fractured or at least sprained from your obvious fall.

The treatment of your wound didn’t take long, as he didn’t have much with him in the first place. Not only that, but he started to think about how hasty you had been about this. He knew that you were too caught up with catching the single bounty hunter to think about how they were leading you to a trap.

“What in the blazes were you thinking?” he blurted out. “Did you ever think to stop and think about what was ahead of you?”

His tone was reprimanding and you didn’t know how to react. Obi-Wan was your teacher, your friend, the one that you had more feelings for than what was allowed. Now, he went from being gentle to hard in a single second. You were now hanging from a different cliff, this time unsure if he would pull you up or leave you to hang.

“I-I…” you struggled to find words. Not only was his tone hurting you, but everything came flooding back to you. From how you stumbled into the group of bounty hunters, how you were starting to tire out and let a blaster bolt graze you, how the wire had wrapped around your wrist, then finally falling and thinking it was all over.

Obi-Wan watched you and immediately regretted the way he had said that. He had seen how many ships had flown away before he got to you. Not only that, how you were helplessly dangling over the tallest cliff he had ever seen, it was a sign that showed just how bad the situation must have been. He had even sensed how terrified you were during many different moments.

Then, he saw as tears started to flow from your eyes.

“Hey,” he said more softly, placing a hand on your good shoulder before pulling you into an embrace. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not though,” you cried out, “I did everything you said. I didn’t stop to think-”

“That’s not what I really meant,” he cut you off.

You pulled back and looked at him with a confused gaze. How was that not what he meant? He was your master, afterall. It was his duty to correct you on what you did wrong, no matter the fact that you were only a few years his junior.

“How is it not,” you said in a broken voice. Not only was the terror from the previous events in your mind, but you started to think about how he didn’t seem as worried as you hoped he would be.

Little did you know, he was. Obi-Wan wasn’t thinking of how you didn’t think the situation through, he was thinking about how he could’ve lost you. He was thinking how, if he had lost you, he wouldn’t know what to do.

Looking into your eyes, he carefully brushed a loose hair behind your ear. With the same hand, he brought it to cup your cheek as he took a moment to gauge your feelings. He could feel all of the obvious ones, but he was searching for the one thing that he had felt from you for a long time. Something that he felt too, but never acted on because of the code.

After some time, he found it but could feel how it felt sadder than before. What caused this? Then, he thought about his reaction. He was more wrapped up in your strategy than your actual well being. How would you read his subtle nod to how he felt.

“That’s not what I meant, because,” he paused.

Was he really going to tell you now? If he didn’t, would that mean he would lose you before he could tell you how much he loved you? Feeling your love for him all these years only empowered him to push through, especially in the days after the events that led to his knighting.

That’s when he decided, “What I meant is that I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I took you a moment to realise what he was saying. Did this mean that Obi-Wan Kenobi actually felt the same way about you as you have about him all these years? Then, you took in the moment. His hand on your cheek, gently, and his cerulean gaze meeting yours, lovingly.

You were frozen. You never thought that this moment would ever come. Obi-Wan was finally admitting that he cared for you.

“W-what… I mean, I-” you couldn’t find the words. In this moment, one of the scariest you’ve faced in both the actual near-death experience and this quiet moment, you were unsure of what to say.

Obi-Wan watched your rapid thoughts and gave you a comforting smile. Then, to calm you further, he traced gentle circles with his thumb into your cheek. His heart started to pick up speed as he thought about how much he loved you. How in every moment he saw your smile, his heart warmed and sent a lighter tone his way every day.

He couldn’t help himself. Easily, while making sure he wouldn’t hurt you, he pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you.

His embrace soothed your many racing thoughts. Even though you were trying to soothe yourself with his words before this, your encounter with the bounty hunters persisted. Now, it washed away all of those thoughts as you were enveloped in his arms. Without any hesitation, you hugged him back.

“I love you, Y/N. I don’t know how I could’ve lived with myself if anything had happened.”

You were shocked at his words and, out of instinct, you pulled away and met his eyes. Something in you expected to see he was joking, but his eyes were filled with sincerity. This was the moment you had been waiting for for years.

Now, it was your turn to bring a hand up to his cheek. Overwhelming happiness filled you as you looked into his expectant and hopeful eyes.

“I love you too, Obi,” you said, almost in a whisper.

Without realising it, you both leaned closer towards the other. There was no time to think about how the rest of this would go. Right now it was just this moment. Right now, he had pulled you up from the cliff. Right now, it was just feeling the sensation of his lips against yours.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #ewan mcgregor #fanfic #obi wan x you #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan star wars #obi wan fic #obi wan #obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi x you #master kenobi #obi wan angst #mrskenobi19’s 100 follower celebration #mrskenobi19s follower celebration

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #kol mikaelson smut #smut

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

domus

a/n: here we have another short drabble dump! i wrote this up very quickly -- i’m still working on that long fic i’ve been talking about! i apologize for taking so long to put it together. pls take this short fic as an apology for now. stay hydrated, wear your masks, and be safe! love you all so dearly <3

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~3.7k, will probably have other parts in the future.

genre/warnings: angst with dashes of fluff; mentions of alcohol

pt. 2 | pt. 3

edit: now crossposted to AO3!

When you’re in love, you spend weeks and months wondering why time won’t stop. You sit and ponder over why you’ll have to die someday and leave behind the person you’ve dedicated your entire soul to, or what might happen if your death came early and you didn’t get to say goodbye. You wonder why the seasons seem to pass you by so quickly, that in the blink of an eye, you go from enjoying a cup of iced tea on the porch to holding a mug of hot chocolate inside watching snowflakes swirl in their journeys to the ground.

But when love ceases to exist, time seems to stop. The days drag for longer, the seasons crawl at a turtle’s pace, and the inevitable end feels less terrifying. You no longer fear the eventual sagging of your skin or the spider legs that grow at the corners of your eyes. You no longer cling onto a hope that there will be a lover’s hand holding yours at your bed of eternal sleep. You simply become, just you. Solitary, single, independent you.

It’s no longer you and someone else. The realization stings so badly that it physically hurts you, a whimper leaving your throat. You shakily reach over for the next blouse and fight back the tears, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. The skin is chapped and broken to the point that you would need layers and layers of chapstick to save any semblance of it, a terrible habit that you wish you hadn’t possessed. It’s muscle memory, the way you fold the blouse in half, fold the sleeves in, bending it over your arm before it lands in a neat stack of other tops in your suitcase. Your eyes take a glance at the clock, and you gather you have about another hour before you needed to leave for the airport and make it on time for your flight.

You ignore the male figure hunched over on the edge of your bed, tuning out his pleas and broken promises. He begs you to give him time, to implore that it’s all his fault and he’ll make it work for the two of you. Tetsuro promises that he didn’t mean to and that it wasn’t anything you did, but you feel so empty inside that you can’t even find the energy to argue, to turn on him and say that he was pretending to take all the blame so it’d be a better explanation to all your friends. A relationship involves both parties, and while there were special exceptions, this wasn’t one of them. Something was clearly wrong with you, and you were okay with that. You were just tired of Testuro attempting to take everything onto himself.

“I thought it’d be best to come clean with you,” he says, throat hoarse from lack of hydration. “I know you would question it and I haven’t done anything, I swear, I know you’re amazing and don’t deserve to live a lie and—”

“Do you want me to say ‘thank you’?” You interjected quietly, morosely. Your hands slide open the underwear drawer and take out a week’s worth of underwear, bras, and bralettes. “Do you want me to express my gratitude in your honesty for telling me that you don’t love me anymore? You can easily buy a trophy online and make the inscription yourself. ‘Most honest man alive’? Is that what you want?” You ask, tone flat and not possessing the least bit of amusement and humor.

“Can’t you give me some time? I’ll try, I’ll try to figure out what went wrong, and I can love you again. We can still get married and everything, but please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving forever, Tetsu. I’m just gone for a week, maybe more.”

“Where are you even going?”

“That’s none of your business,” you quickly reply, defenses back up as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You pick up all the toiletries you can, the ones that would be allowed in your carry-on. Strangers won’t care about your missing skincare routine and your complexion not looking its best.

“What if you get lost? Or kidnapped? What if people ask—”

“Easy. Just tell them I had a last minute business trip, family emergency, whatever floats your boat.”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying? I—”

“This isn’t just about you!” You snap, whirling around to look at him for the first time in the last hour or so. Testuro notices with a pang in his heart that your cheeks have sunken in slightly since he broke his revelation to you just last week, the eye circles darker than ever. But your eyes are soulless, dead, no shine or spark that he’d wake up to every morning even muddled with sleep.

“You can’t just expect me to be okay and continue to bend over backwards for you without question. The least you could do is give me my time, give me some space to think about all of it. That’s the bare minimum.”

And with that, you zip your suitcase shut, grab your passport (even though you probably don’t need it), keys, wallet, and phone, and walk as quickly as you can to the front door. The scheduled Uber will arrive in just a few minutes, and as you slip into a pair of flats, you can hear the creak of the bed and Testuro’s padded steps nearing you.

“Just be careful, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything. You’re still one of the most important people to me, so just – text me at some point. Let me know you’re alive at least.”

“You need to rest. You’re on call tomorrow,” you digress while opening the door.

“(Y/n)—”

“I’ll text you. Promise.”

And the door shuts behind you.

Your relationship with Akaashi Keiji is…hard to explain. In fact, you’re not even sure what to refer him as in your life. Anytime you spoke of him or attempted to explain, you’d fumble over words and draw blanks. While it was irritating and aggravating at times, you learned to just accept it.

Akaashi Keiji was the neighbor down the street, two years older, and someone who had known you since you were 8. Your moms were attached at the hip not longer after you moved to Tokyo, and that meant holidays were spent together, impromptu get-togethers and dinners were a common occurrence, and you saw him frequently at school. He was a quiet soul, gentle, but reserved. In fact, most of the things you knew about him were secondhand conversations from your mother talking about the family, because honestly his mom was basically your second mom now, and your mother trusted you with everything. His past, his troubles, his personality all relayed through your mom from his own, and when you saw him in the hallways, he wasn’t much of an enigma to you. Many other girls had found the mysterious air around him to be attractive, that the pretty setter who only ever smiled around his volleyball team and kept a tight circle of friends had something significant beneath the layers.

Keiji grew up with you, playing Smash on the Wii to pass time as your parents gossiped away. Sometimes, you’d play an intense game of Monopoly with him, a game that typically tipped in his favor. He never said much about himself, always relayed more about others that overlapped in your lives. The most he ever spoke to you about was when it came to teachers at school, even giving you some of his old notes and pointers. But even you could tell that he kept his guards up, and you wondered if he even classified you as a friend.

Your go-to explanation of Keiji’s standing in your life was a family friend. But that insinuated you were close with him, which you weren’t at all. No matter how many times he walked home with you (mainly at the pushing from his mother), no matter how many times he was forced to entertain you at dinners and holidays, no matter how many times he gave you a small smile in school, there was such a large gap between the two of you. He always seemed so different around his team, like they had the privilege of knowing the real him, and at times, you felt…jealous.

And the weird thing is that you can rely on him somehow – whether it be because he’d get an earful from his parents if he didn’t help you when you asked it or out of the goodness of his heart, he was simply always there. Sometimes, you were bold enough to text him about a show he talked about in the past, and he would reply quickly as if your unexpected, rare text about something benign didn’t faze him at all.

Yet despite the distance, despite the lack of any semblance of an actual friendship with him, he was the first one you thought of when all this happened. He was the one you wanted to see – maybe it’s because he was the closest thing to home, and you didn’t want to go back to your parents explaining everything. It’s been a while since you’ve been back in Tokyo, ever since you moved to Sapporo for your job and Testuro got matched for a residency at a hospital there.

At 7PM on a Friday afternoon, past the baggage claim with the sunset beaming in through the sliding glass doors, you stare at Keiji’s contact on your phone, thumb hovering hesitantly over the call button. You could count the number of times you’ve called him on one hand, but this was an emergency, right? Is this why your heart is pounding against your chest, so anxious that you feel like you’ll break into a cold sweat any time soon?

You jump into the deep end.

Your hand nervously brings the phone to your ear, waiting with bated breath as the dial tone echoes in the chamber of your brain. Part of you wants him to miss the call so you can avoid this awkward conversation, but another part of you desperately wants him to pick up as if he’ll be able to save you.

Oh god oh god oh god, you panic as the tone stops, there’s a pause, a rustle, and then a hesitant, “—Hello?”

You didn’t plan this out. You’re not ready for this. Shit, what are you supposed to say?

“—hello? (Y/n)?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Wow, you’re a terrible conversationalist.

“…um, I haven’t actually. I was about to warm up some leftovers?”

Your eyes focus on the taxis driving by, picking up passengers as they get waved down. Maybe you should just find a cheap hotel nearby, continue this conversation tomorrow.

“Well…I’m in town, actually. I just landed about 30 minutes ago and realized I didn’t have anywhere to go and I don’t really want to call anyone else and I don’t exactly know who else to call so I just, um, thought about calling you and asking if you’ve had dinner? Which if you’re busy and stuff, that’s totally fine, I should’ve texted you beforehand instead of springing this on you and—”

“(Y/n), it’s okay, alright? It’s okay. I’m not busy, so you can stop by. Did my mom ever give you my address?”

Keiji’s brief attempt to calm you down works, surprisingly. You allow yourself to take a deep breath despite the stale airport air, but it was some much-needed oxygen. This is going to be okay, Keiji doesn’t hate you quite yet.

“N-no, she never did.”

“That’s fine, I’ll text it to you. My place is about 30 minutes from the airport, I’d recommend getting a taxi instead of an Uber. I’ll order some delivery—”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You still like the miso ramen from that shop not far from your house, right? They opened up a second store not far from where I live.”

How did he remember that? You’re pretty sure your own mother had forgotten that fact by now.

“Y-yeah, I do,” you smile to yourself. “I still think about it sometimes.”

“Sounds good then. Get here safely then.”

“Okay. Thank you loads again. I’m sorry for all this—”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Not 30 seconds later, a text arrives to your phone with an address, a keycode for getting past the main door, and other relevant instructions.

Keiji’s apartment is exactly as you expect it to be – prim, proper, neat almost to a fault, with minimalist decorations. The apartment complex he lives in is rather high-end, if the security guards standing outside the main entrance indicated anything. You almost feel completely out of place or like a bug on the wall as you step in after him, a rather comfortable silence between the two of you. His kitchen is spotless and almost sparkles back at you, and the only thing that seems out of place are the containers of your ramen he so kindly ordered for you.

“Your place is really nice, it’s really…you,” you comment, setting your stuff down at the door. Keiji indulges you with a quiet laugh, making sure that there wasn’t anything that would be in your way. His glasses are perched on his head, an old monochrome t-shirt on his shoulders and sweatpants hung low on his hips, yet in this apartment that almost seems like it should be in an interior design magazine, he looks at home. His ethereal beauty, the softness in his eyes, the gentle up-turned strands of his hair – he belonged here.

“The ramen came not too long ago, so it’s still hot. I’ll go ahead and put it together, you can put your jacket on the couch.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Instead, you fold your jacket over your suitcase and quietly make your way into the apartment. Straight across from you are doors to a balcony – darkness had long taken over the city, so you see nothing but your reflection at first. But as you near the plexiglass, the reflection disappears into the view and you almost gasp from the beauty of it.

Blinking lights, flashing billboards, and the brightly lit Tokyo Skytree peer back at you. It only hits you now how much you’ve missed home, and that even though Sapporo was one of the largest cities in Japan, it still wasn’t Tokyo.

“I never get tired of it,” Keiji chimes in while carrying your bowl of ramen to the dining table.

“It’s an amazing view, I can see why you’d live here,” you reply while moving away from it. The table also has two empty wine glasses, and just as you’re about to ask him why they were there, he returns with a newly opened bottle of chardonnay.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to restock the wine fridge, but I knew I was going to kick myself for not having a bottle of that dessert wine we had before you went off to college,” he said with mirth and amusement. “You remember that one?”

“Yeah,” you nearly splutter, almost flushing that once again, Keiji was remembering details about you that you didn’t even know. “Your mom wanted to throw me a graduation dinner and you made it back in time after finals. And she had a bottle of it and between the two of us, we probably drank most of it. Our parents said it was too sweet.”

He nods and sits across from you, elbows on the table as you mutter, “Itadakimasu,” and start eating. You finish your meal silently for the most part, making small talk here and there. Keiji refills both of your glasses and the two of you sip the wine demurely, and while he seems okay with the lack of an explanation, you’re struggling to find the right words.

“So what’s with the impromptu trip to Tokyo? Are you going to see your parents?”

“Should I try to lie to you?”

“It’s up to you.”

Oh, okay then.

But he looks expectant, as if he knows you wouldn’t lie to him – in fact, you’ve never lied to him before. There was never any need to, but did that just mean neither of you ever cared enough?

“Something happened with me and Testuro. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but at the end of the day…I just needed to get away, as cliché as it sounds,” you laugh brokenly. Keiji continues to carefully observe you with a stare that you can’t escape. “I don’t want to tell my parents – you know them, they’ll ask a million questions. Without thinking, I booked a ticket to Tokyo and…now I’m here.”

That was a lie. How are you supposed to tell Keiji that he was the first person you thought of in an effort to run away? You and Keiji have never gotten personal before, he made sure of that. The last thing you want to do is weird him and scare him off.

“…did he cheat on you?” Keiji asked. His voice is darker in his inquiry, deeper than you’ve ever heard before. He has his hands folded in front of his lips and his eyes harden. Testuro may be an old friend to him, but you were in his life longer.

“Nonononono,” you quickly wave off. This isn’t the time to slander your…boyfriend? Could Tetsuro still even be your boyfriend if he no longer has any feelings for you? “Nothing like that.”

“That’s good to hear. If you want, you can tell me another time then. You’re welcome to stay here until you go back to Sapporo.”

You look up at him, eyes incredulous. Could Keiji really be this comfortable with you?

“I wouldn’t mind staying tonight, but I can stay in a hotel for the rest of the week that I’m here.”

“Nonsense,” Keiji refutes, standing from the table and taking your wine glasses to the sink. You follow with your bowl and he starts washing them before you can even offer. “Mom would kill me if she knew I let you pay for a hotel when I have a perfectly functioning bed you can stay in.”

“I mean, if it’s not a bother…”

“It’s not. The futon’s pretty comfortable, I’ve definitely fallen asleep on it plenty of times.”

“We can switch, I would never let you sleep on the futon for a whole week.”

“If you say so then. But for tonight, you can take my bed. Let me grab you an extra towel so you can shower. I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” he says while drying everything off, folding the kitchen towel neatly before heading off to his room. He returns with a large, soft grey towel and you shyly take it from him with a word of thanks, but he stays there in front of you, waiting for something.

“I’m really glad you picked up the phone,” you whisper softly, feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’re entering uncharted territory for the two of you, and this could either kill or strengthen this odd distant friendship. “I meant it when I said I didn’t know who else to call. You were the first person that came to mind and just…I don’t want to make this weird, like you can kick me out,” you begin to ramble. “Don’t feel like you’re obligated to take me in because your mom would be disappointed if you wouldn’t, you’ve already put up with me for over 15 years and it’s fine, I can be on my own and—”

Smooth, calloused hands delicately hold your face, large palms and nimble fingers cupping your cheeks. Your words die on your tongue as Keiji stares straight into your eyes, holding your gaze until your breathing calms down to a steady, languid pace. “You’re my friend, (y/n). So it’s good that you called me.”

“I’m your…friend?” You ask unsteadily, feeling a sense of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms with the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go shower.”

“Okay.”

You’re fast asleep before Keiji finishes his own shower, his bedroom door left ajar as the hallway light beams through. He pauses in the midst of drying his hair with a towel, letting it bunch and hang off his neck as he cautiously pushes the door open. Keiji notices your even breathing and how much more relaxed you look in sleep. You’re curled up on your side with the blanket pulled up to your face and he can’t lie: it’s adorable and cute, and he shouldn’t really be thinking these things.

He sits on the edge of the bed in the little space that’s provided, lithe fingers reaching out to brush back a few stray wisps of your hair. Watching you sleep pulls him back into a fond memory he’s kept of the two of you, one that might’ve held very little significance to you but meant something so much more to him. He knows you know him well, he knows how much his mother babbles on about him, and adults were more prone to gossip than the rowdiest of teenagers – he’d be painfully oblivious if he didn’t think you knew that much about him, or more than the average friend.

But it’s comforting to him, sometimes. Knowing you, how kindly you think of others, he might not have to explain what he’s feeling in the moment. You would be able to know, and that soothes him to some degree.

Maybe he had a little bit too much wine as well, but ever so subtly, motions steady and unhurried, he deftly leans closer and closer until his lips brush the apple of your cheek. He lingers for no more than a few seconds and sits back up, gazing at you before standing. His hands adjust the blankets and make sure you’re properly tucked in. He pads away, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible as to not wake you.

And when he’s found a comfortable position on the futon with his most comfortable throw blanket, he realizes, begrudgingly, that this week will fly by too fast for his liking.

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sunaswife · 4 years

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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: To be added to the taglist please send an ask. Comments and dms will be unintentionally ignored/forgotten. Also if you have sent an ask to be on the taglist. I am not ignoring you I add people onto the taglist when I update a new chapter! <3 love youuu

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter six

Suna was completely in shock and he was overwhelmed. He just froze. What can a man do when his ex tells him he is a father, let alone the father of two toddlers.

He immediately thought about the trauma you must have faced, being pregnant and alone. He also thought about how much he’s missed already, he wasn’t there for their day of birth, their first steps, first words, he’s already missed so many birthdays.

All he ever wanted was to be a father, especially to be the father of the children he made with the woman he was in love with. Was it truly a blessing or a curse?

Surely you don’t want to get back together and live like a perfect family behind a white picket fence. He’d have to learn how to push his feelings aside for these kids and share custody of them somehow. Before he could even speak you were walking away and he quickly turned.

Why aren’t his legs moving? What’s pulling him back? Is he afraid of this responsibility and commitment? Of course he is. He doesn’t want to be a shitty dad, will he be able to raise them correctly? How if he’s always busy training and practicing. All his free time is dedicated to napping.

His heart truly broke the second time ever when he saw those grayish eyes looking back at him with such hurt and betrayal. They screamed that they needed him. He didn’t know how but he felt it. He decided that he was going to take a step and work things out with you. Maybe not romantically but he really wants to be in his kids life.

“After all this time and trouble I went through. You’re gonna let her walk away again?” Atsumu’s annoying voice filled the silent hallway. “Fucking bastard.” Suna seethed and turned with a glare. Osamu knew his brother fucked up and decided to be cautious in case Suna decided to land a few punches on his brother like the last time Atsumu has pissed off Suna.

But as Atsumu braced himself for a comeback or for a fist to meet his face he was met with Suna’s back as he ran to catch up with you. When Suna turned the corner he saw the staff parking lot and he began to run even faster.

If you leave it’ll be too late.

When he made it in the parking lot he stopped and used his height to his advantage and he looked around. He couldn’t see you anywhere. “Y/N!” He called outloud and his voice echoed. “Y/N!” He repeated. He was about to continue walking through when a car backed up and quickly breaked so that they wouldn’t run over the man. You looked through your mirror and saw Suna standing there and looking around like an idiot.

Your heart clenched yet you felt butterflies at the same time. He came, not for you but for the kids. You really hoped and prayed that he would come, and he did. You parked your car and you got out. He sighed in relief and neared you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I want to be in their lives I really do.” He exclaimed.

“It’s fine, Rin. I’m glad you want that.” You smiled softly.

For a moment he got lost in your eyes, and yours in his. It probably lasted less than a minute yet it felt like a eternity. Neither of you could turn away or say something else. It was comfortable and warm.

All of a sudden your phone rang and your finally blinked and turned away to answer your phone. “Did suna find you?” Jamie immediately asked. “Uh we were talking just now....” you said awkwardly and he stood awkwardly as well. “Ok good if not I was going to give him your number.” She sighed in relief and you rolled your eyes. “Alright I got to go, the kids have school in the morning.” You said and you both hung up.

“So I would love to stay and chat..ya know about the kids but they’re asleep already and they have school.” You mumbled. “No it’s fine I completely get it. School is important...are you available tomorrow? It’s off season for me so I don’t have any rough practices, only gym. I want to talk with you before meeting the kids.” He said and you nodded. “I’ll text you when to come over when I get home.” You told him and he nodded. You both exchanged numbers but Suna didn’t really seem that satisfied.

“Be safe. Text me when you guys get home safe.” He said and his eyes widened. “Okay, I will.” You smiled softly and he saw as you entered your car. You slowly pulled out and you drove away.

“Tsumu has her social media in case you’re curious.” Osamu spoke up causing Suna to jump. “What the hell dude, don’t just scare me like that.” He placed his hand over his chest and Osamu laughed.

“Come on, let’s go.” Osamu said and Suna nodded and walked away.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.” You muttered and slapped yourself as you drove. Your kids were already asleep so they couldn’t hear you having a mental breakdown on your way home. “Mommy you said a bad word.” Akira pointed out and you glanced at the mirror. “Sorry about that. Don’t repeat it okay?” You asked and she nodded. “I know I know.” She mumbled and look at her signed volleyball with a bored expression. “Is daddy going to be in our lives, now?” She asked and you sighed softly.

“Well we talked and it sounds like he wants to be there for you and nii-chan..he’s going to come over tomorrow while you’re at school so we can talk like adults. Then when you come home he’ll be there to hang out with you guys and you guys can get to know eachother.” You said hopefully.“I don’t like him. Why couldn’t Sakusa or Atsumu be our dad. Even that guy you were with earlier with the suit is fine. But dad is a jerk. He made you cry.” Rini huffed and your eyes widened, were they awake the whole time?

“Hey, I know you don’t know him but your shouldn’t disrespect your father like that. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have had you guys. You two are the best things that has ever happened to me. You’re a Suna, once you get to know your dad I know you’ll be proud that I put your last name as Suna not Kageyama.” You told him and he scowled.

“Can you tell us more about dad?” Akira asked and you nodded. “What do you wanna know?” You asked. “Why did you fall in love with him.” Rini immediately asked, “Well he was sweet and funny, he loved anime and we were in the same class. He also taught me how to love volleyball again after my grandpa died.” You said smoothly. “What position did he play? Did he go pro?” They asked. “He was a middle blocker and he was really good. He still is a middle blocker and yes he is pro.” You said and Rini gasped. He’s more of a middle blocker type of fan. And Akira prefers setters. Even when you or Tobio teach them volleyball. They choose those positions.

The whole drive they asked about him and you answered the best you could, you can’t tell them everything but they were satisfied and they had a better understanding. They did get upset with you for not telling Rin that he was a father since the beginning but they understood that he broke your heart and you didn’t really want to see him.

When you got home you texted Rin that you arrived. You quickly bathed your kids. Dressed them in their pajamas and read them a script from the new anime you’re going to be on. (They liked listening to the scripts rather than bedtime stories)

After reading three pages they were already knocked out and you gave them a kiss. You fixed Akira’s fox plush in her arms and made you way to Rini’s bed. He was hugging a green piggy with a crown from the angry birds game and the moon made his face glow. You stood there in shock and you imagined second year Rin sleeping like that with the pig plush with the crown that reminded him of you.

You quickly rubbed your eyes to see second year rin turn back into five year old Rini. “I need some wine.” You muttered and kissed his cheek and fixed his blanket. You took out the phone from your pocket as you made your way to the bathroom to take off your makeup and start your nightly routine.

You chuckled but quickly slapped your hand over your mouth. Why was it so easy to text Rin again after all this time. Isn’t it supposed to be awkward? Why are you so comfortable?

You quickly typed an awkward goodbye and he scratched his head confused but replied goodbye as well. He really wanted to continue talking to you more.

After you changed into your pajamas and finished your nighttime routine you made your way to the kitchen and you grabbed the half full wine bottle.

You held it to your chest as you made your way to your office/studio and began reading the script and answering some emails involving the character you’ll be portraying for the new anime. You celebrated a few weeks back when you got the offer and sighed thinking about this certain character.

You’ve read the manga already but it wouldn’t hurt to re read it to get a better feel of the characater right? You took a sip from the wine bottle as you found the first book of the manga. In your endless shelves of books.

“Alright Emma let’s go on an adventure.” You sighed and began to read The Promised Neverland.

Also don’t forget that I love you and you’re worth it <3 Idk who needed to hear this today :)

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#haikyuu suna #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarō #miya atsumu #suna x reader #haikyuu x you #miya osamu #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #suna smau #suna au

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

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It's okay, I'm here, I'm real

indulgence and vent based on a event that has happened to me somewhat recently but it's been long enough that I've gotten over it but still sucks that it happened - reminder, just because there are bad experiences with weed doesn't mean it's evil, just means be careful and smart about where you get and much you take - how you feel whilst doing it can heavily influenced what kind of trip you'll have

Be smart and responsible, know your limits and always have someone you trust with you

Mammon is irresponsible as always and Lucifer is there to comfort him. Big brother is going to make sure he's safe and okay whilst he goes through a bad drug trip because no matter how much they argue and insult each other they will always have each others backs

Angst/comfort

Warning: weed, bad drug trip, angst, sudden panic attacks, detailed descriptions of trip, drugs, taking too much drugs, heavy dissociation

It wasn't supposed to be like this; he thought it would be fine. He forced himself to breathe. Slowing his sudden gasps as his heart spiked. He could feel his mind blur as the weed finally kicked in. It hit him all at once and his skull pounded; the left side of his face was buzzing like a hive.

He mentally cursed at himself for being reckless but they were such small brownie slices! He didn't expect it to hit this hard.

He wanted to break down and sob his heart out but he had to stay calm; he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was marching down to his younger brothers room. Snarling to himself as he knew he was going to confront mammon ONCE AGAIN this week; he really wished that he would just be responsible for once.

The eldest demon threw open the door.

"Mammon, I said keep your habits in your own room! I had to stop Beel from eating every single brownie you left in the fridge-"

His lips immediately flew shut; his eyes landing on the rigid form of the younger demon. Eyes screwed shut and Barely keeping his breathing steady. Lucifers eyes landed on the plate beside him; already able to connect the dots.

Lucifer slowly approached, trying not to stress mammon even further. Mammons eyes opened once again; they were glassy and obviously he was holding back tears. The whites of his eye already turning red.

"how- how long has it been?"

"What do you mean?" He sat down beside him, watching closely to the males expression.

"I heard you coming and I closed my eyes and now you're here- how....how long did I have my eyes shut for...?"

Lucifers chest clenched; he always seen Mammon get hurt or in an unpleasant situation but this was breaking his heart. Mammons hands were shaking as he was trying grasp the world around him; nodding to himself as he was gripping to any spec of reality he could get.

"only for a few moments, mammon."

"seriously?! It felt like hours." He laughed, leaning back on his bed, still dazed.

"How many did you take? You're obviously not having a good trip, I haven't seen you like this since you first started."

"it was only 4! And they were tiny! Did you see em?"

He did, in fact see them. That was the whole reason he was even here; because he saw a pile of mini brownies all wrapped up and stuffed lazily into the fridge. He announced his annoyance just seconds ago but he can't blame his brother for not processing it all; he wished he would be more careful.

"I did....I did see them, let's get you comfortable."

He helped mammon take off his jacket, shifting to grab a nearby hoodie. He sniffed it to make sure it was still fresh through he was mammon didn't care at this point. After putting mammon in the hoodie he guided him to lay on the bed.

Mammon felt another sharp spike of panic seeing his brother leave his side. Weakly grabbing out to him as tears rolled down his cheeks, Lucifer patted his hand. Softly reassuring him he's not leaving. Lucifer pulled the blanket over his brother before taking off his coat, neatly placing it on the chair.

He mumbled sweet 'im here' as he came back to his brothers side. Crawling on the bed on the other side of him and laid down. He embraced mammon from behind, the other male gripping his brother's arms as he let out shaky sighs of relief.

You see, mammon was so relived. Why? Because Lucifer felt real. He was real. His clothes, his hold, his arm - it all felt real. He desperately clung to his brothers arms as he got comfortable in his bed. Lukcily, it was big enough for the both of them but it was still somewhat a squeeze.

But right now that didn't bother Mammon. He just needed to feel something solid. The world around his was weightless; false. All just a blurred background to trick him. More tears came out; curling into himself as he mentally reminded himself that it'll all go away. This feeling wil go away.

"I hate.....I hate feeling like this again....it's been centuries since I've had one this bad- I hate it - I hate it so bad...."

"I know, I'm here, just get some sleep - it'll make it go away faster."

Lucifer leaned his forhead against the back of mammons head. Giving him a gentle squeeze. For a moment Mammon panicked; Lucifer sounded like how he did in his dreams. Those dreams never ended well for him. He always got hurt.

Together, they breathed in and out. Slow steady breathes coming out if the both of them.

"I know but- whenever I close my eyes I feel like I'm dreaming - I can't - I can't tell the difference..."

"I'll tell you how long it's been, just rest."

"it's been an hour, Mammon, go back to sleep."

Despite his reluctance, he nodded. Mammon closed his eyes, trusting his brother. He laid there; unable to tell when he was finally asleep. It was strange because he wasn't tired at all and yet it was effortless. Or maybe it wasn't; he had no idea. It was all just darkness within darkness. He could sense the world shifting as he kept his eyes closed.

Finally, he awoke. Feeling more refreshed and for a few moments - sober. He felt fine. Normal. Grounded. But those feelings weren't going to last. Lucifer noticed his awakening, patting mammons arm and sighed tiredly.

"it's okay, I got you." Lucifer always had him, no matter what.

"an- an hour-?!" His voice squeaked, pain coming out as he let the words echo in his head in disbelief.

Was eternity really only an hour? Was this how it was going to be? He'd wake up every hour still experiencing this awful trip and unable to tell if he was even actually awake.

Mammons tried to go back to sleep; his legs suddenly twitching and jerking. He couldn't remember when that happened. But he was being persistent; sleeping was going to fix this. He was sure belphegor would be amazing at this.

Next time his eyes opened; they immediately went for the clock that's by his bed. He was vaguely aware of the time before he closed his eyes; but at what time did he close his eyes? Was it the first time he closed his eyes or the most recent? When was the most recent?

He whimpered and groaned to himself, moving his hair out of his face. He was able to see through his fringe but it felt odd - it was like looking through a TV screen. Everything behind his hair was far away but yet, he could still see it if it was up close. Being free from his hairs tricks he got to have a another moment of being sober.

Lucifer was sleeping. He spend the past couple of hours just staring at the wall, not wanting to disturb mammon. Soon enough he always went to Dreamland; bored of waiting. But somewhere in his brain he could still sense the world as If he was conscious; sensing mammon was once again awake.

"It's been 3 hours - it'll be over soon." His voice was groggy but mammon was thankful the change didn't make him panic.

He is legs kept twitching and moving. He couldn't stop it. His body was just moving on his own. Lucifer moved one of his arms much to mammons dismay; grabbing a water bottle Asmodeus left not too long ago. He handed it to mammon.

"Drink, you'll need it."

Mammon was in no position to say otherwise. His mouth dryer than a dessert. He chugged down the water until he felt satisfied; closing his eyes once again and let himself drift through sleep and uncertainty.

Next thing the both of them knew was Mammon was keeping close to the edge of the bed. Mumbling about falling off the edge. But he couldn't move; he kept hunching like was going to throw up. He kept taking large gulps of water as he his mouth kept drying up in moments.

Lucifer rubbed his back, trying to keep him from throwing up. That would only cause the poor demon to have a panic attack and he didn't need to be struggling to breathe mid way through barfing.

Thankfully; time flew by at last and it was the next day. Both brothers still snored as they held onto each other. The other brothers checked in to make sure they were okay, mammon had plenty of water and Lucifer has some snacks to eat.

It was going to be okay

He was okay

Thank father it's okay

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bombyxluna · 4 years

Text

Omega Mammon X GN!Human MC

This is more of an intro to the series, which is why is a lil bit longer and more explanatory.

We’re here to break sub gender norms!

I don’t know how many parts this will have but I want it to be angsty.

No NSFW yet :P

CW: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Talks of heats/ruts/sub genders

The Devildom is, for a lack of a more fitting word, strange. Though, you suppose, being surrounded by demons should be.

There’s too much you don’t understand still. Three months have passed since you arrived - or were kidnapped? the jury is still out on this one - and it feels like an eternity of time and too little all the same.

Demons, as it turns out, have very different customs and rituals from humans. So do angels. You are in the least thankful for the classes, but every other student in them seems well versed in the basics, while you float about unsure of what’s happening. Hell, even Luke knows more than you, and he hates demons. Not to mention he’s a child. Double low blow.

The classes would be going a little bit better if you only had time to actually study for them. Though you do suspect that Diavolo doesn’t actually give a shit about grades and this entire school is a mockery to appease his peaceful plans, you're still stuck in what’s basically hell and having to go to what’s basically hell’s undergrad school. Great.

The least you can do is prod around for some demon knowledge. You know, just in case. Because things are getting weirder by the day, and sometimes it feels like it’s all an ongoing inside joke you’re not really a part of.

Also, because of them.

Living with demons wasn’t exactly unexpected, but living with the Seven Rulers of Hell - well, six of them, was.

Despite initial impressions, you’re quickly figuring out there’s more to each of them than the public eye could see. Something lurking below their perfectly crafted personas, that is reserved only for the ones in close proximity to them. Only for family.

You’re not family, but you’re definitely in close proximity.

It’s easy to tell how much they hide behind masks. Lucifer, as far as everyone else knows, it’s the always serious and stern big brother that will never crack a joke or play around. The entire foundation of that statement could be torn down with one single picture you had, of him playing with Cerberus.

Leviathan, despite actively trying to kill you over a book series since - no, you’re not over it - is more than the shut-off otaku who is otherwise known as the Admiral of the Devildom’s marine. He is also clumsy and shy, and he goes on tangents about what he likes, and he is friendly.

Satan, known as the hot-headed brother who has a tendency to overwork himself into humor changes and explosive arguments, is a reserved person, a cat lover, an erotica reader, and an absolute dork.

Beelzebub, though he whines about food a lot, is far more than just the hungry brother who also happens to be a jock. He’s a carebear, a very attentive listener, has great movie recommendations, and an amazing cook.

Asmodeus, who may look lust-driven and shallow to the onlooker, but is caring, a hopeless romantic, a good friend and brother, and even a little insecure.

And then there’s Mammon.

At first, you didn’t know what to think of him. He acted high and mighty, too strung up in his high horse to look at a human such as yourself. When Lucifer put him in what was basically the task to babysit you, it’s safe to say you were annoyed.

But then, you started to pick up on things. Small things. Unnoticeable to those who aren’t looking, but that become increasingly clearer once you realize them.

He’s clingy. With his brothers, with you, even with his credit card. Though he never lets himself linger, when he hugs you, it’s tight and crushing, like he needs to be as close to you as possible. When your arms brush together as you walk about, he blushes.

His brothers tease him. A lot. To the point, it’s painful to even to you sometimes. He laughs through it all, but you can see the drooping at the corners of his mouth, and how the giggles don’t reach his eyes.

And he’s scared. At least, that’s what it seems like to you. He puts up a front of being this big, angry, scary, and powerful demon such as his brothers, and though you certainly don’t doubt the powerful part, the angry and scary seem faulty.

It’s intriguing. One day he’ll be all over you and the next he’ll act like he barely knows you, avoiding your eyes and only answering in curt answers. Sometimes his PDA is off the charts - he’ll throw arms around you, stick close, pull you closer when you’re walking together - and others he acts as the smallest of touches burns him like it pains him to be so much as near you.

And there is that smell. It lingers on him but not on his brothers, like a perfume stronger than anything else. It doesn’t make any sense, though, because you’re pretty sure it’s not perfume. You’ve seen him spray himself before leaving in the mornings and it’s not the same smell. It’s something else, a light waft that emanates from him in waves, but no one else seems to pick up on.

He’s a puzzle that refuses to fall in place, and all you want to do is figure him out.

Solomon sits down in front of you with a loud gruff, dropping a small pile of stacked books on top of the wooden table in the library. The librarian shushes him when the sound echoes through the empty halls. Asmodeus hot on his trail, carrying nothing but a bag. He sits down as well, eyes all but sparkling.

“MC!” He sings. The librarian shushes him.

“Hi, Asmo,” you make space on the table, putting your bag on the chair next to you.

“Ready to cram years of demon biology in one afternoon?” Solomon asks. He smiles wickedly as if he thinks it’s actually possible to do so, and you feel a little bit like a prey caged in by a much, much more astute predator.

You asked for help with the subjects, and maybe you’re already regretting it a little. “Sure,” you answer, trying to sound determined.

He smiles. “What are you seeing in your class?”

Solomon picked different classes for the year, and while you were fine with not doing whatever the hell goes on in advanced alchemy, it’s a little bit of a bummer to not share even one class with the only other human around.

“I’m not… really sure,” you slouch on the seat, ready to give up. Why can’t the world be like the movies and you can spend an entire year just looking out the windows and being pretty? “Subgroups? Or sub genders?”

“Oh,” he says softly, flipping through one of the heavier looking books.

Next to him, Asmodeus is pulling out a notebook filled with post-its and notes made in glitter pens. You suspect he didn’t come to lecture you, and that suspicion is confirmed when the notebook is discarded as soon as it showed up, apparently being pulled out only because his bag was on the smaller side and his pink switch-like video game was at the bottom of it. He sighs dramatically, lowering the music coming from it, and laying his chin on Solomon’s shoulder.

Yeah, definitely not here for you.

Solomon slides the open book towards you, marked on a page titled Subgenders then starts flipping through the next.

Asmodeus watches as you read over the basic introduction.

“It’s not hard,” he says, voice bubbly even though the words game over can be read on his screen, “It’s a little tricky to separate, but you get the hand really quickly.”

It’s not actually all that hard to figure things out. Solomon, despite the borderline chaotic ways he chooses to explain things, is a fairly good teacher. You manage to grasp the three sub genders and the differences between them in no more than a couple hours - a record if you’re being honest.

And Solomon had been right. It’s not hard to separate them. Alphas are, generally speaking, the “dominant” gender. They’re easier to anger and natural born fighters. They experience ruts, can mate, and have knots. Most of the royal court are alphas.

Omegas are the “lower” gender - though according to Solomon, the idea that one is lower to the other is being more and more fought againts and discussed in the realms - they’re conflict solvers and are seem as sweeter and more fragile. They experince heats and self lubricate. Most of the common demons are omegas.

Betas are a middle ground. They don’t have scents as strong as alphas or omegas, and aren’t easily affected by ruts or heats. They can still mate, however, and are often seem as level-headed and good right hands for alpha leaders. They’re rare. Barbatos is one of them.

And then there’s the Apex, the “alpha of alphas” as Asmodeus described them. An alpha so powerful he stands above all others, in the top of the “food chain.” That’s the category that fits Diavolo.

“So… what are you then, Asmo?” You ask, folding your arms above the book Solomon had highlighted to you.

Asmodeus perks up, bright as ever. “I’m an alpha, of course! Can’t you tell?” He gestures to himself, manicured nails gleaming under the bad lighting.

“What about you?” You turn to Solomon. He hadn’t mentioned anything about humans having sub genders, but you kinda wish that was possible, although you couldn’t tell why.

Asmodeus pulls Solomon closer by the arm and beams. “He’s my omega!”

Solomon shrugs him off with a low chuckle. “Don’t make me slap you.”

“Kinky,” Asmodeus points a finger to him, smiling wide. He pulls Solomon again, by the shoulders, and lowers his turtleneck, revealing a bite. “I didn’t lie, though.”

Solomon pushes him off with a scowl, covering the mark with his hand. “Yeah, yeah.” He waves Asmodeus off, adjusting the clothing.

You chuckle at them but say nothing. It’s clear Solomon doesn’t want you to.

Asmodeus pays his scowl no mind, resting his head on Solomon’s neck. Solomon sighs. “I’m not anything. Humans don’t have sub genders. We didn’t evolve to them, so we end up in somewhat of a grayscale. The closest thing to us would be betas.”

“Then we… claiming and that stuff… we can’t do it?” Your eyes trail to Solomon’s neck, but the bite is covered.

“Not really,” he sighs, “this was an exception.”

“And why’s that?” Asmodeus hums, leaning over Solomon. Their faces are almost touching.

Solomon sighs again, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m a demon’s whore.”

Asmodeus smiles, so much that little dimples show up at the corners of his lips, and he claps. “I love you so much.”

You roll your eyes, making a vomiting sound when they kiss. Lowering your gaze, you read over the title of one of the chapters.

“Hey,” you look up again, catching their attention, “what about your brothers? Mammon has a different scent, is he an omega?”

Asmodeus splutters, looking exaggeratedly shocked. He chuckles, strained. “Of course not!” He waves hands in front of himself, almost hitting Solomon in the face, “We’re all alphas.”

“Oh,” you say. It doesn’t make sense. None of the others have a scent like Mammon’s. It’s a little sweet, but seems clouded, slightly sour in the corners.

“I don’t get it,” Asmodeus muses, tapping a finger to his chin, “humans don’t really feel our scent, how can he be different?”

His gaze is closed off on you, analyzing a little too much. It makes you feel like an ant under a magnifying glass, “I uh… he just does.”

Solomon stares at you but doesn’t comment on it, even if it looks like he wants to.

Asmodeus hums in thought, gaze still sharp on your every movement. Then, he smiles, almost artificial in its wake, “Well, whatever!” He slaps a hand to the table. At this point, the librarian gave up on shushing you.

Solomon is still staring at you. You move a little. Being watched like this makes you feel kind of squeamish.

Asmodeus is staring at Solomon, and then at you, resting his head on a palm. He hums again, stretching his arms over his head, and then he’s up, pulling Solomon with him. “We should get going!I wonder who’s on dinner duty.”

You blink. Dinner was still far away. Your study session just got cut short, and while you have no idea why, it feels like it’s your fault.

As you close the book and gather your things alongside them, the word seems to call you again. “Being an omega sounds painful, though,” you close the book, “heats and all.”

Solomon scoffs. He closes his notebook, sliding his bag over a shoulder. “That makes it more fun.”

Asmodeus tsks, waving Solomon off, “Don’t listen to him he doesn’t have a soul.”

Solomon neither confirms nor denies this statement, instead only giving you an amused chuckle and a tilt of the head.

The feeling that you did something wrong, crossed a barrier you weren’t supposed to, clings to you. But still, it makes no sense.

There’s something different about Mammon. You have to figure out why.

The first thing you notice is that you’re missing a pillow. You’re back from a week filled with classes, ready to drop in bed and sleep the entire weekend when you realize something seems off. You look everywhere, but the pillow is nowhere to be found.

Then, a couple of days later, the thin blanket you keep for movie nights and long study sessions is gone.

It progresses like that. The throw you use to warm your feet. Your favorite stuffed animal. A fluffy winter jacket.

When you ask, fed up with this little prank, none of the brothers seem to know where your things went.

Your pact with Mammon is still somewhat fresh, but you find yourself going to him, if not for a solution, maybe to complain.

The door is open when you arrive, pushing it inside without ceremony.

“Mammon, you’re not going to believe-”

The words die on your throat. There, spread on top of his bed, twisted and fluffed together into a carefully crafted bundle - no, your mind provides, a nest. This is a nest - are all your missing items, and, sitting on top of them with a flushed face and big eyes, is Mammon.

Oh.

Turns out you were right.

“MC, I, I…” Mammon fumbles upwards, all but stumbling in the mess of blankets and pillows he has apparently snatched not only from you but from his brothers as well. There are even some pillows you don’t recognize, cow patterns all over them.

“Mammon…” it’s all you can say. You have never dealt with this before, but the answer to your question was clear as day, right in front of you.

Omegas nest when stressed or needy. Came Solomon’s voice, a memory from the lecture just a week before.

“You’re an omega.” You say, in a surprised whisper, cogs turning on your mind and finally fitting with each other.

Mammon’s face falls and his breath hitches. “How do you know about that?”

“In class… we went over the basic biology of demons and…”

He gulps audibly, eyes darting to the floor. “Then you know.”

You can almost feel the question marks forming around your head. “Know what?”

“How disgusting this is,” he gestures to the nest. His face is still reddened, voice bordering on wet, “I took your things without telling and I… I used them, my scent is all over them and now… I’m sorry, MC.”

“Mammon…” you reach towards him, but he steps back.

“You probably want them back, right?” He chuckles dryly with no real humor. “It’s okay, I get it. People don’t like when omegas get all needy, I know that.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes tugging at his lips. “You can take them, I’ll just…” he points to the door, “yeah.”

And then he’s gone, leaving behind the same smell you came to associate with him, only much sour in its wake. Your pact mark burns, glowing a faint yellow tone. You stand next to his bed, confused and feeling like you managed to fuck up even more.

Masterlist

#obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon avatar of greed #mammon x you #obey me!#obey me mammon fanfic #obey me fanfic #omega mammon #obey me shall we date #mammon scenario #aboau

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chaseatinydream · 4 years

Text

pirate king (25) || atz

The door to the sickbay creaks as you enter.

Yeosang is the only one lying in the cots, the other injured crew having cleared out to give the navigator some space and reduce the risk of infection. That must explain why there’s nobody here, but that’s all the better for you.

You pull out a small chair and sit next to Yeosang, mentally preparing yourself for what you’re about to do. The sickbay is dark so you can’t see Yeosang’s face very clearly, but you reach for his fingers, giving them a tight squeeze.

He doesn’t respond.

You exhale, gripping his hand tight as you study him for a moment. He’s so silent, so still that you can count every eyelash that sweep his cheeks, watch the way his chest rises and falls as he draws weakened breaths. His skin is a waxy white, pale and bloodless, and you raise a hand to trace every part of his face.

His skin is unnaturally cool under your fingertips.

For minutes you simply sit there, watching him. It’s a silent, intimate moment, your fingers intertwined with his, you breathe when he does and wait for it to happen. Only when your hearts start beating in tandem do you finally apologize.

“I’m sorry, Yeosang-hyung.”

You remember the first time you had met, when he’d taught you how to address different people on board, when he comforted you before your first battle. A man of immense intelligence, great knowledge and a sagely wisdom. A person of infinite kindness, compassion and innocence. Your crew mate. Your family.

You bend down and rest your head next to his, hand in his. For some reason, you already know what is going to happen, you can feel it in your veins, from the way his every breath begins to weaken, from how every heartbeat is slower than the last.

You won’t be able to save him in this stage with only a limited offering of your energy. Pouring what energy you have into his body, in your emotional state now, is only going to mess his body up even more. You’ll wait, wait of his body to completely drain of his own energy, let his entire body still before you return him what he gave you; the gift of life.

An eternity passes.

Yeosang is approaching death.

A strange calm washes over you, as if you’re standing at a beach with the tide lapping at your feet. You watch in silence as Yeosang’s life slips away little by little, like sand in an hourglass, falling away with every passing second. It’s almost time.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him, gazing at his shut eyes as the sound of your heartbeat seems to meld with his. Something in you reaches out, like a wandering, probing hand, flowing through your joined fingers, up Yeosang’s arm and into his body. You search for him, an intangible soft warmth that you can only describe as pure, holding onto it as tightly as you can. “Thank you so much for saving a wretch like me.”

A part of Yeosang’s inner consciousness shifts, something in him starts to struggle to awaken, as if he can feel what you’re intending to do. Of course he can. Both of you are now connected almost as intimately as any two human beings can possibly be. The two of you are physically touching, you inhale when he exhales and your hearts beat together.

There’s only one last thing left for you to do.

“No!”

You can feel him thrashing against your hold on his soul, even if he doesn’t physically move the least. The most primal part of him, his subconscious, his memories, his character, his morals all rolled into one, the part of him that make the man before so wonderfully and uniquely Kang Yeosang. It’s fighting against you, because it knows what you want to do.

You want to redeem yourself.

You can feel his heartbeat weakening from the strain of pumping blood through his entire body, the way his organs are slowly starting to shut down one by one. The tie his soul has to his mortal body is fluttering weakly, struggling to hold on as he desperately tries to survive. You’ll wait, wait for his heart to stop.

Every heartbeat echoes in your ears, each one growing fainter and fainter.

“I’m sorry, everyone.” You murmur softly, closing your eyes. You remember Wooyoung’s face of utter betrayal, the way he had been afraid of someone he would once have died for. You see the bloody back of your captain as he endures the whip. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I’m sorry that this is the only way I can make amends. I promise after this… you won’t ever have to deal with me again.”

There’s a final thump, and then absolute silence.

Yeosang is dead.

You can feel it begin to happen. Every life supporting reaction in you slows all at once, the magical energy used to power your own body being drawn away from your limbs, gathering right above your heart like a small flame. The warmth grows steadily, until you feel like there’s an actual candle being pressed against your bare skin, and then the liquid heat suddenly streams down your arm and into Yeosang, leaving a cold, freezing sensation in its wake.

Ice seems to fills your veins, frost creeping over your body starting from your toes. At first, it’s merely uncomfortable, but then it soon grows into a painful, cold burning in your flesh. You ignore it and press on.

Suddenly you feel Yeosang’s body jerk upwards like a miracle come true, the whoosh of air entering his lungs, a loud, powerful heartbeat echoing in your ears. Ecstasy fills you, but then the draw changes.

Like a riptide, where your energy had once been streaming into him, the tides suddenly shift, and you feel his survival instinct desperately drawing on any source of energy it can get to save him.

The only one it finds is you.

Equivalent exchange. A life for a life.

A dam breaks in you and in a second, you feel the energy that was once flowing through you being torn away by him. You don’t fight back, letting him take everything from you have, weariness flooding through your limbs. Something snaps in you and you feel something warm trickling from the side of your mouth, but you’re too tired to care.

Sleep… Just let me sleep…

Suddenly, colours and shapes swirl together in front of you, voices echoing here and there, fading in and out. You’re confused for a moment, before the bright, vivid streaks flash before your eyes, and you’re one with the man that is Kang Yeosang.

You walk down a set of marble stairs, arms laden with thick, heavy books. You’re dressed in an expensive, fine wool coat and a pair of reading glasses perch on your nose, through them you see a maid scurrying across your path. She stops immediately upon seeing you, bowing low with a basket of laundry under her arm.

“Young master.” She greets politely, but you can see her glance away shiftily. You frown.

“Where is Father?”

“On another voyage, young master. He left yesterday.”

Disappointment sinks in your chest. That’s the third year you haven’t seen your father’s face. But you force your face into a smile. “I understand. You may go.”

The maid bows again and scurries off.

Years pass in mere seconds, flashing past your eyes.

You’re older now, sitting at a desk and poring over navigational books as you jot down notes on paper. You need to study hard and become a navigator fast, so that you can finally be of some use to your father and accompany him on his voyage to hunt down the legendary Pirate King. A knock sounds at the door, and you remove your glasses, glancing at the door.

“Come in.”

Another maid walks in, bowing before you. “Master will see you now.”

Ecstasy blooms in your heart, it’s been six years already, and you’re finally going to see the face of the man you call Father. When you stand and walk over to the door, there’s a new spring in your step, a joy that you can’t shake off. But before you can leave the room, the maid taps you on the shoulder and passes you a tin of creamy beige colouring.

“For your…” She gestures at the birthmark beneath your eye, and your heart sinks for a moment.

Darkness swirls before you, and then you’re at sea once again.

You’re standing on the deck of your father’s ship. The red rose emblem on this sail has been shredded by enemy cannonfire, as has the mizzenmast. The Pirate King stands before you, younger than you had ever expected, a young boy almost your age. He points the musket at your father, and for a moment, fear runs through you.

“Please, spare me and my men.” Your father begs and anger fills you at how he, the commander of one of the best privateer fleets in the Royal Navy, is bowing to a mere pirate. But the young pirate simply chuckles, loading the musket in his hand.

“Why should I?”

“I can offer you a trade.” Your father offers, almost desperately, and you see the pirate’s eyebrow raise. He pauses in raising the musket.

“What can you give me that I can’t take for myself?”

“A navigator.” Your father declares, and your heart sinks in your chest. “If I give you my navigator, let me and my crew go.”

The pirate’s eye narrows and he adjusts his eye patch. “Is your navigator not one of your crew?”

“No.” Your father says, with so much surety. He’s giving you away to a band of merciless pirates, who might enslave you, torture you, even kill you. Fear shoots through you.

“Father-”

“Shut up, boy!” Your father snaps at you and you can only fall silent, the Pirate King turns to look at you appraisingly with a single green eye. He contemplates the deal for a short moment.

“Throw in your navigational maps and we’ll make it a deal. If you refuse, I can always let Wooyoung play target practice with you. I assure you he’s itching for something fun to do.”

Your father’s eyes darken, but he can’t refuse the offer.

“Fine.” He spits, shoving you over roughly. You lose your balance, but the captain catches you.

These aren’t yours. There are Yeosang’s memories.

Then the noises and shapes flash past your eyes too fast for you to make out anything anymore, and you feel your own heartbeat starting to slow as Yeosang’s becomes more steady. You’re so tired, all you want to do is close your eyes and rest…

The door opens.

“Captain, I was thinking we could try to- What in the world are you doing!?”

San’s scream is hazy, as if you’re deep in sleep already, but you can hear the frantic desperation and horror in his voice once he realises what you’re doing. You hear the sound of something being knocked over in the background, but you’re too tired to care. Then something thick and hard shoves you hard to the side, off the chair, and you don’t have the energy to move. You merely topple off the chair, crumpling to the ground like a rag doll.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae!” This is Wooyoung’s voice, you register sleepily. The shackles on his wrists dig into your back as he supports you against him, just like the time you got shot. You’d never tell him this, but getting shot in the ankle was one of the best things that ever happened to you.

Ah, you’d wanted to ask him why he wore the shackles, but you suppose you’ll never get the chance now. Your tongue feels too heavy to move but you force it to anyway, desperately needing to ask one last question before you can go in peace.

“Is Yeosang okay?”

You see his mouth move before you, eyes wide with terror and worry, but you can’t hear him. The purple in his hair is starting to return, peeking through the henna he dyed his hair with. For a moment, you think that may be your favourite colour in the whole world.

“Stay… Please… Don’t… You need… Stay awake…!” His words fade in and out. Something wet and warm falls on your cheeks, but you don’t know what it is. Is he still angry with you? You need to apologize to him, then you won’t bother him anymore.

“Sorry for lying… Love you, Wooyoung…” You murmur sleepily, and every muscle under you stiffens in shock.

“Chin Hae-” He begins to say, but then your eyes close. It’s warm here. You could just stay this way forever. The world around you finally fades into nothingness.

And then everything turns white.

The roar of the ocean fills your ears.

You are sitting at a beach. The same beach you see every time you close your eyes. The beach you reach every time you try so hard to gain your memories.

You’re here once again.

Your feet dangle in the cool water as dark brown runs with every lap of the tide, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the sand as you feel each and every grain beneath your rough, slightly deformed fingertips. It’s late at night, the stars have come out, a sprinkling of diamonds in the inky black sky. You stare at the necklace around your neck, the tiny clear cut crystal taunting you with its contents.

He’s coming.

You feel him before you see him, his footsteps sending vibrations through the fine grains of sand as he moves towards you.

“I didn’t expect you to see me off, ******.”

His name is in a language you can’t speak any longer, not with this tongue. He smiles fondly at you, his eyes twinkling like stars in the sky.

“You won’t tell them?” He asks, but he already knows what you will say.

“They won’t understand.” You answer, gazing at the sea with a look so fond and yet so sad. His smile becomes a little wistful as he gazes at where he can’t reach.

“They’ll try to stop you.”

Your smile matches his exactly, eerily identical. “I know.”

“I wanted to do it for you.”

The way he says it makes you know it’s so much more than just a simple action, more than just a parting gift. You look at him, and an aeon of understanding passes between you from your shared gazes alone. A smile curves at your mouth.

“Alright.” You breathe into the night air.

His face is nothing but a foggy memory, browns and greens swirl where his features should be. But his eyes. His eyes glow such a unique shade of green, twin pools of liquid viridescent emeralds, one that nothing and no one else in this world can replicate. You love him so much, more than the human tongue could ever describe, the opposing force to everything you are.

Your other half.

How could you ever forget him?

In his hand, he raises a dagger and presses the tip against your chest.

You press your face into his neck, a sad smile on farewell on your lips, his other arm embracing your body, pulling you tight against him. You’re leaving your other half behind, your very soul screams, but its call is too strong for you to resist.

“I wish you all the luck in the world.” He says softly, his voice caressing your ear more tenderly than any lover’s embrace. You nod, burying your face in his chest, seeking his comfort.

“I'm scared.”

“I love you more than anything else, ****.” He whispers intimately into your ear, his voice warm and strong as it has always been for as long as you've existed. His thumb brushes against the crystal on your necklace, burning and etching words into the cold silver.

When he pulls away for a moment to look deeply into your eyes, you feel a single tear fall down your cold cheek for the first time, tracing a dark line in the brown of the clay.

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The blade sinks into your chest.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #jongho #wooyoung #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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tonightthestarsalign · 4 years

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love you to the moon and to saturn

This started out as a kid!fic because of @thedeathdeelers talking about a juke baby in this post. It did not end up there. It’s much more of a character study I think. In fact this is roughly 2k and 1.5k happen before Julie ever gets pregnant. Idk what to tell you.

I might try this again sometime and actually write something about the kid, for tonight though, this is all I have.

That electricity he felt the first time he played the guitar is back, but stronger than ever. He can feel it pulsing under his skin when he looks at Julie. She turns to smile at him and he feels like floating. He just might have been wrong about what being in love feels like.

or: the three times Luke fell in love.

Luke finds the love of his life at age 11. His parents buy him a guitar for music classes in school and there’s no looking back. He learns the chords the instructor teaches him with the kind of determination and focus that his parents have never seen on him. The boy that can never focus on anything for more than ten minutes suddenly spends hours sitting in a corner and trying again, and again, and again until he can place his fingers exactly the way he should, switching between the chords faster and faster.

The day he finally plays the first melody is burned into his memory for the rest of his life. The feeling of pure joy cursing through his veins is something unlike anything he ever experienced. There’s always the feeling of electricity under his skin, but with his hands on the guitar, it rushes into his heart and makes him feel alive in a way nothing has ever done before.

He goes home that day, his fingers bleeding from the strings, and tells his mother he found the love of his life. Emily yells at him until her voice gives out. It’s their first fight of many.

He dies only six short years later and in his final moments he’s glad to have found love, even with how short his life was, because how could something ever surpass the feeling he got when he had his guitar and a song?

His stomach is cramping, tears are rolling down his cheeks and he is happy he’d gotten to experience the thrill of being on stage, the feeling of people singing his lyrics back to him. How could something have ever made him feel more?

He gets a second shot at life, or at least something close to it, when they tumble from the black room into their studio. Technically the studio is the same, the changes are slight, but noticeable. The plants all over the space, the chairs on the ceiling, their instruments missing and the cute girl register in his mind, but he doesn’t really care. He is back here by some magic and he is going to use his chance. When Julie tells them that it hasn’t been an hour but 25 years, he does falter for a moment. Why would the universe not only give them a second chance, but why 25 years later?

Not soon after he finds out they can still play and people can hear it and all the questions go out the window. What does it matter why he is here? What does it matter if he isn’t actually alive, when he can still do the thing he loves most?

The next morning he hears Julie sing and something in the back of his mind tells him that he was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t actually in love with music. Julie sings and his heart that has been silent ever since the black room, throbs once in his chest.

In the following days they spend an intimate moment in the kitchen, sing together on stage and write songs together and that little voice in the back of his mind gets louder and louder. It gets to the point where he can barely ignore it anymore.

She tells them how important the school dance is and Luke in all his rage and thirst for revenge ruins it. They go to Caleb’s club and miss her dance. He looks at Julie’s disappointed face when they finally make it to the school and the pain in his chest comes close to the night he died. He feels like the worst person in the universe.

Somehow, she forgives them. He’s not sure he deserves it. But he is slowly but surely realizing Julie Molina is a better person than him and so of course she forgives him for hurting her.

It’s when they are at Eats&Beats and they sing about knowing they can make it and closing their eyes when his heart throbs once more. Julie’s voice rings through the room and the words echo in his head. He looks at this girl that he’s only known for a couple days really, and he realizes that that little voice might have a point.

Even though she has forgiven him, his little stunt with Caleb almost costs him dearly. The jolts keep getting worse and when he finally tells her about what’s happening, she looks at him with wide, sad eyes and it breaks his heart. He swears to himself that we will do everything in his power to make sure she nevers looks at him like that again.

They try to save themselves by performing at the Orpheum and it’s a n incredible rush to stand there on stage, to do what he never got to do while alive but the second they take their bow, he realizes that it didn’t work.

Julie finds them later that night, on the ground of the garage where they poofed to because they have nowhere else to go. She begs them to take Caleb up on his offer and on her face is that same look that he never wanted to see again. He pushes up on his feet and walks up to her and tells her that no music is worth making without her.

And really, while once upon a time he thought music was the love of his life, he now looks at this fiery, beautiful girl and knows, that while he no longer may be technically alive, he is much more in love with her than he ever was with music.

But then again, it is hard to say where music ends and Julie begins.

Julie throws herself at him and he doesn’t even think about it as his arms come up and catch her. It’s a couple moments before he notices that they’re touching. She pulls back a little, and it’s like a magnetic force that makes him follow her. If he could, he’d never let her go again.

It’s only later that night, that he realizes his heart is beating again.

He gets an actual second chance at life because the person he loves more than anything pulled him back from the death.

She kisses him the next night, on her porch underneath the starlight. It’s still fascinating to him that they can touch, so when she steps closer and takes his hand, his breath catches. She tugs softly on his hand, until he stumbles a step forward, right into her space. There’s only inches between them, and she has to tip her head back a little to look into his eyes. He never realized how much shorter she is.

She looks up at him with those wide brown eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” She whispers softly and all Luke can do is nod. Julie pushes up on her tiptoes and then their lips are touching.

It’s not Luke’s first kiss, not by far. But it feels like it’s the first one that matters.

The sky is full of stars, but the brightest one is right here in his arms.

Afterwards everything happens so quickly that even looking back it feels like only moments passed.

Ray gets them set up with passports and social security numbers so they can go back to school. Andi Park calls again and they end up with a contract and a label. ‘Stand Tall’ gets released as a single and hits no. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Half a year later, in the middle of Luke’s senior year they drop their first album. They spend the summer touring. Several more tours and albums follow and by the time they’re hit their early twenties all of them are set for life.

Julie and him get married one autumn afternoon. The ground is dappled in flickers of light from the sun passing through the colorful leaves. Julie is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The simple white dress looks ethereal against her skin. Her curls tumble down her shoulders and Luke can’t believe she chose him.

He stumbles through his vows, cries at Julie’s and slides the ring on her finger with a ridiculous smile on his face. Alex, Reggie, Carlos and Flynn whoop when they kiss at the end of the ceremony. Ray is smiling, his cheeks wet from tears. It’s everything.

They buy a house a couple weeks later. It’s close to the shore, with a nice backyard for the puppy they adopt. Biscuit is a golden retriever and when she looks up at Luke in the shelter from where she’s hiding underneath a blanket, he knows he’s taking her home with them.

They get two rocking chairs for the porch where they spend their evenings with Luke’s acoustic and their shared songwriting notebook.

Julie tells him she is pregnant two years later. Luke cries.

Elena Rose is born in the middle of the night a couple days before christmas. Luke looks at the little bundle on Julie’s chest and forgets to breathe. His heart thumbs in his chest. His wife’s hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she is obviously exhausted. She looks the most beautiful he has ever seen her.

Slowly he steps closer. Elena is sleeping, her little fingers flexing against Julie’s skin. Her face is a little scrunched up and there’s a tiny tuft of dark hair on her head. He looks down at this living being he created and feels like his heart might burst. She is barely a person and still he loves her. He loves her so much it could span eternities and galaxies, life and death.

“She’s gorgeous.” He mutters.

“I know.” Julie smiles. “Come here.” She pats the bed beside her and Luke is all too willing to slide in next to her.

“I can’t believe we made her.” He says.

“You want to take her?” Julie asks.”I’m going to be falling asleep pretty soon.” She doesn’t even wait for his answer, instantly passing over the little body. He doesn’t even get the chance to hesitate before she’s in his arms. Julie drops her head on his shoulder as he settles Elena on his chest.

His daughter opens her eyes and looks up at him with wide blue eyes. His heart swells in his chest.

They get to take her home two days later and Luke puts her down in her crib. She’s wiggling a little, her hands and feet moving in her sleep.

He leans against the door frame to his daughters room and watches her sleep, still unable to believe that he brought this life into the world. There’s a melody in his head and he’s itching to write it down, but can’t bring himself to look away from her for even a minute.

Julie steps up next to him, leaning against his side.

“I never thought I could love anything more than you.” He admits quietly.”But she’s…”

Julie smiles. “I know what you mean.”

He presses a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Sometimes I can’t believe how I got so lucky. I died in 95 and here I am, 35 years later with more than I could have ever wished for.”

“The universe has been kind to us.” Julie agrees quietly.

And as he stands there, with his wife in his arms and his daughter asleep in her bed, he sends a thank you to whoever might be listening.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #my fic

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magicrowiswritingstuff · 4 years

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“Stars” - Din Djarin x gender-neutral!reader

Summary: When you look up at the stars, these are the moments you miss him most.

Warning: sad thoughts? idk, can’t think of anything else

Category: hurt/comfort

Words: about 1.500

Note: This piece got... deeply personal. I wrote it when I was unable to fall asleep, thinking about everything that happen in my life in the past two years. It also ended up being very experimental too, sooo hope y'all will like it! Note 2: No use of (Y/N). And while reading through it I didn’t find anything regarding gender so this is tagged as gender-neutral! Hopefully I didn’t miss anything… if I did feel free to tell me so I can correct that.

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“Stars” – Din Djarin x gn!reader

It was one of those nights again. The rain, that had been pounding against the windows only minutes before, had reduced to a faint thumping now. But the normally so soothing sound just blended in with the hard beating of your heart against your ribs and menacingly echoed back in your mind. Louder and louder and louder, the longer you laid on your back and just stared up at the ceiling. Your mind was numb, your body heavy and stiff. You had been lying in bed like that for hours now, since the sun had settled. Already well before the storm had even started, the storm outside that had subsided by now. But the storm in your mind was still raging, fighting, clawing at the walls inside your head. The thunder was crying and screaming in your ears, shaking ever fiber in your being as it tried to break free. But the lightning kept your body rigid and pinned against the bed like arrows. Arrows lodged into your limbs and heart, burying itself deeper and deeper with every sharp breath you took. You couldn't find any rest.

Almost mechanically you sat up and swung your legs over the edge. With your hands on your knees, you stared at the floor. With your bare feet on the cold wooden floor, you just stared. You blinked. Blinked until your mind finally found its focus on reality again. There was no storm anymore, not outside and not in your mind. It was okay. You were okay. You nodded and stood up, tiptoeing to the front door. The moment the fresh air, soaked with the smell of nature, rich and strong and full of beauty just like it usually was after a storm, filled your lungs you finally woke up even though you hadn't really been sleeping for days. But your mind finally awoke after hours, days of just going through the motions. You stretched out your arms and felt the last few drops of rain hitting your skin as you sighed. The stone that had been attached to your heart for weeks now and had dragged it down into the depths of a dark and angry ocean, pushing you underneath the water, had gotten lighter. You felt like you could breathe again. You sat down on the edge of the porch, not caring that the wood was still wet from the heavy rain earlier and stared up at the sky. Most of it was still covered by dark clouds that were hanging just as threatening above your head as your thoughts. Thoughts that bubbled on the surface every now and then. Thoughts that kept pounding on the door, breaking down the door, always returning, always promising to be back. Thoughts you couldn't escape from. Thoughts as slow as the clouds but eventually moving on, revealing the light of the stars to you. You placed your elbows on your knees and put your head in your hands as you watched the stars. Such small points of concentrated light that were trapped in a seemingly eternal dance. Twisting and turning and swirling around each other viciously in a dance far too slow for your eyes to see, for your mind to understand. From your place on the wet, wooden porch they seemed almost stationary. They were beautiful. They were lonely. Thousand and thousand klicks apart, always dancing around each other, almost never meeting, never touching, never connecting. They were beautifully dancing with one another yet they were lonely. Lonely just like you. And whenever you looked up at the stars lighting up the dark night sky, were you reminded of that. Whenever you looked up at the stars you were reminded of him. In these moments, when you felt like the only witness of that tragic dance, did you miss him most. You missed him with every fiber of your being, with your whole heart that was longingly beating against your ribs. He was up there, traveling among the stars while you were down here. Patently waiting for a return, you could only hope for. Maybe he was dancing around you like the stars were around each other. Seemingly so near but not close enough to meet. You missed him. In these moments you would give anything to see him again. To watch the light of the sun reflect off his armor, almost blindingly bright and sharp and in such a dominant manner that just wasn't him. Not with you at least. He would never show it anyone else but you knew there was a soft core and heart beating full of love underneath that hard beskar. You knew it because you had felt it drum underneath your fingertips. You had felt the hidden skin littered with scars, some small and some big. You always felt the love in the way he moved with you, hands gently cupping your face, placed on your hips or tenderly wrapped around your middle. It never felt restricting. It always felt right. In his embrace you felt like you knew where you were supposed to be, what to do, who to be. All because you knew the man underneath the armor. His gentleness, his patience, his caring nature. You had seen the man without the armor. When you spoke the promise, when he exposed himself to you, when he finally revealed himself, you saw the warmth in his eyes. The fear of rejection carved into his furrowed brows. The nervousness of being seen in his lips that were pressed in a tight line. And whenever you looked up at the stars, were you reminded of that and so much more. And in these moments, you missed him most. You sighed and wiped away the tears that had silently began to roll down your cheeks. You hadn't even noticed when you had started crying, too lost in your thoughts. So, lost in your thoughts you didn't even notice the figure walking up to your right. A silent shadow creeping closer and closer. But you didn't feel the threat, you didn't feel the tingle on your skin that would have normally warned you. Because there was no threat. You still flinched when you heard the shadow clear his throat, your head snapping to your right. The moment your eyes landed on the shadow they grew round and large and your mouth fell open in shock, not believing this was real. But the only thing you could do was stare. "Riduur." His voice was a faint sigh. A soft, relieved tune echoing in your ears. Just how you remembered it. Just how you had longed for it for what felt like eternity. He was so close, only a heartbeat away, closer than the stars would ever get to be in their dance. All you would have to do was to stand up and run, bypass the distance. But your body was frozen. You had to be dreaming, right? You blinked, trying to decipher if you were hallucinating. But he was still standing there, fully dressed in beskar that reflected the light of the moons that had fought their way out of the clouds. It wasn't harsh this time, not like how the sunlight normally reflected off of him. It was a soft stream of silver, a small brook slowly filling up with water again in spring. Just as refreshing to your eyes and mind as it would be to step into the cold water of that brook. You weren't dreaming. "Din." Your voice wasn't as faint or soft as his had been. It was full of pent-up emotions that slowly but surely broke down the walls of your mind, spilling over the edge like a waterfall. Choked up and scared. But when he placed his hands on the sides of the helmet and removed it with such a haste, such a powerful longing, the fear and doubt disappeared. They were pushed underwater and out of sight. He let the helmet fall to the ground at the exact same moment you jumped up. And then you ran, finally bypassing the distance, finally ending the dance. He wasn't able to take even one single step forward, had only enough time to reach out, to catch one of your hands with his and pull you against him, to him. And the moment you touched the electricity shot through you with the force of a lightning. Your heart stuttered against your ribs as you crashed against him, finally meeting, finally touching, finally connecting in a fervent kiss.

_________________________________

Taglists:

Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty

Din Djarin Simps: @theflightytemptressadventure / @sarahjkl82-blog / @remmysbounty / @cali-beaches-wakes-and-boards / @idekah / @freeshavocadoooo / @dindaddy / @wonderless-screwup / @helena-way07

If you want to be added/removed/switched to another taglist at any point just let me know!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #gender-neutral reader #reader #x reader #star wars x reader #hurt/comfort #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian oneshot

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sweetalnazar · 3 years

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After an eternity, I updated!

CHAPTER 2: A HOUSE, A SHOP AND A HOME

Summary: After the defeat of the Devil, Aisha and Salim catch up on all they’ve missed, including the fate of the home once shared with Asra

4.3k words. Family Fluff/Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Tw for discussions of trauma and abandonment

Lowkey Mine/Asra/Muriel.

Other Notes:

- Mine uses she/they, but only ‘they’ in this setting. Asra alternates between ‘he’ and ‘they’

- 'Foreign' words are generally not italicized, to reflect the multilingual nature of the characters

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Chapter 1 || Read on AO3 || Tip Jar 🌟

Their home was no more.

In Aisha’s memory, on her street by the heart of Center City, was the little two-storey house squished between a bathhouse and an apothecary, the place she called home.

The kebab stall down the street, the scent of smoked lamb drifting through the air as she passed it by on the way to the palace. The neighbour opposite her, who grew a rich garden on her balcony with her wife, and gave Aisha a flower each time they met. The sound of the neighbourhood children kicking balls in the streets and chasing each other in the evenings.

The creak of the door hinges that never agreed with Salim’s oils, no matter what formula he used. The colorful tapestries from their families, a parting gift, that decorated the walls, as well as the numerous paintings, from Salim’s hand, from Aisha’s, and of course, Asra’s. The music echoing through their house in the evenings, the strumming of her qanun and Asra’s little hand beating on the riq, Salim’s beautiful voice accompanying.

All of it, every single bit of the house that held all these memories, had been reduced to rubble and broken brick, just like the rest of their neighbourhood.

There was a year of powerful lightning storms in Vesuvia that had led to fire, and the crowded buildings smooshed together, unprepared for such a hazard, was like kindling in a fireplace. Flames engulfed everything in their path, and when they couldn’t, the burning buildings and structures collapsed on their neighbours, leading to almost their entire neighbourhood being destroyed.

According to Asra, he and Muriel––one of his partners––had run away to the east docks during the blaze, closer to water where it was safer. When they returned, there was barely anything left of the neighbourhood, much less the house.

Salim gulped his tea down, to the point he started coughing. Aisha thumped him, once, before switching to alternating between patting and rubbing his back.

“T-that’s something, Asra,” he said, the shock still clear on his face.

“Haha, yeah…” Asra stared awkwardly at his own teacup.

“Revani anyone?” Mine interrupted, holding a plate of brown squares, topped with crushed walnuts and pistachios. “I got a really good recipe from Selasi, so me, Asra and Muriel tried making some.”

Grateful for the interruption, all three at the table took a piece each.

It had been a month or so since the defeat of the Devil, the triumphant return of Asra and Mine, and at long last, Aisha and Salim were catching up on what they had missed since their disappearance almost two decades ago.

The two of them had asked Asra to see their old home, the very first house they had moved in as young newly-weds ready to start their new life.

Instead, he had brought them to the magic shop.

He had gestured for them to sit in a corner of the shop, where a couch and armchairs surrounded a rickety table opposite the counter. While Salim and Aisha took the couch, he had taken an armchair, the one closer to his mother’s side.

With Mine perching on the armrest by his side, and Muriel––quiet as always––sitting by the counter, Asra began regaling the tale of the house’s fate; from the landlord kicking him out, to new tenants, to its demise.

While the palace had remained constant, almost assuring in how little it had changed, much of the city had transformed.

The Coliseum cast shadows across Goldgrave, obstructing the view of the arts district and its colorful antics. Red Street, once the pride of the Heart District and the Count, had been abandoned. Meanwhile, the bustling Shopping District had turned sullen and gloomy, the overflowing waterways mirroring its new name of the Flooded District.

Then there was the little island far off-shore that loomed on the edge of the city, a reminder of darker times. Even the land itself had not stayed the same, the ebony, almost black sands of Ash Beach now bleached gray by the remains of the deceased.

Everywhere she looked, there was nothing but change.

Old stores and restaurants Aisha and Salim had frequented were long gone, the shops now on their fourth or fifth newest venture.There was almost no trace of the Vesuvia Aisha had come to love, the city she had stepped into for her first big project away from home; when she and Salim had been young, newly married and determined to prove their skill away from their families.

Or at least away from Aisha’s family, the renowned Alnazar name.

“Basbousa,” Salim spoke, breaking her train of thought.

She stared down at the cake in hand. Below the brown crust was a familiar buttery yellow.

“I thought I recognized the smell!” Salim went on, holding his piece up enthusiastically.

“It’s a little burnt, sorry,” Mine apologized. “We weren’t sure how hot the oven needed to be, since well, none of us usually bake.”

As Salim and Mine continued making small talk, Aisha took a bite, and her eyes widened.

“Orange blossom syrup,” she said, surprised.

“Just like you made it,” Asra said. He gestured to the cup of orange blossom syrup to the side. “Pour half the syrup while it’s hot––”

“And leave the rest for serving,” she finished. Her chest tightened, a little, and she smiled down at the small square cake.

“I––I didn’t actually remember the name,” Asra confessed. “People in Vesuvia call it ‘revani’, but I always called it the orange blossom cake. Or the cake with semolina butter.”

Aisha laughed. “I remember! You were always trying to eat the entire butter slab while we were baking.”

“What do you mean ‘trying’? They were halfway through their second slab when we caught them that one time,” Salim pointed out.

“Asra!” Mine exclaimed, staring at them with wide eyes. “You didn’t .”

“It tasted nice when I was little,” Asra shrugged. “I liked how the texture felt when I gnashed the butter between my teeth.”

From the counter, there was a snort, and Aisha could have sworn Muriel mumbled, “...typical” under his breath.

Meanwhile, Mine rose to their feet, taking a couple of cakes on their plate, and went over to the counter, squeezing Asra’s hand before they left.

Salim took a few more pieces, munching happily, and Aisha did the same, placing another square on her plate.

“Back to our original topic,” Aisha said, “what happened to the house after that?”

“Oh.” Asra stopped, putting down his plate and taking a quick gulp of tea. “Well, it was kind of abandoned for a long time. Until Melaka––that’s Mine’s aunt––came along.”

“Then…”

Asra nodded. “That’s right. She built the shop right over where the house was.” He leaned back in his chair, and pulled the shimmery curtains behind him away to reveal the view from the large open window.

At the back of the shop, hidden by the tall storefront and the surrounding walls, was a courtyard. Garments flapped gently in the breeze from the clotheslines in the center, the clothing all different sizes. To one side, there was a collection of beakers and jars, as well as larger rectangular containers. They were all filled with dirt, plants of various sizes and types sprouting from them.

“Is that––” Salim squinted, “––another building back there?”

“That’s the kitchen,” Mine said.

“Our main kitchen,” Asra clarified. “It’s where we put the ice box and the big stove and everything. There’s a sitting room too, to eat together.”

Aisha blinked, playing over Asra’s last sentence in her mind.

Had that been an invitation?

“Oh, that’s where Lucia and Hayrünnisa used to live,” Salim said. “Nisa would always give you seeds when she saw you, Asra.”

“Seeds?” Aisha said. “Didn’t she usually give them those little flower crowns and rings?”

Asra’s eyes darted down, looking sheepish.

“Oops, sorry, Asra. It was supposed to be a secret.”

“What was?” Mine said, leaning over the counter, their elbows almost at the edge. Muriel pulled them back, but they stayed standing, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

“I think we’ve heard enough about my childhood,” Asra said, red dusting his cheeks.

“No, we haven’t!” Mine said. “Right, Muriel?”

Muriel nodded. If Aisha hadn’t known any better, she would have said his smile was almost teasing.

“It’s not as embarrassing as you think it was, Asra,” Salim said. “It was very sweet in fact.”

Asra pursed his lips, looking conflicted.

Aisha reached out, slowly taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. Asra snapped his head to look at her, startled.

“Habibi, we don’t have to talk about it if you truly don’t want to,” she told him gently. “But I must admit...I would very much love to hear this little secret of yours.”

Asra chuckled, squeezing her hand back before she released him. “OK, mom. I guess...it has been long enough.”

“Tell us!” Mine said, bouncing faster now, the pink-tipped dark curls resting on their shoulders bouncing higher.

“..calm down,” Muriel muttered, almost fondly, as he placed a hand on their rotund hip and attempted to get them to sit.

“Now for the story,” Asra clapped his hands, his face still a little red as he began. “I saw er, Nisa––”

“Aunty Nisa,” Salim corrected.

“Yeah, Aunty Nisa was always giving you flowers, mom, and I, I wanted to do that too. A whole bouquet of flowers that I grew on my own.”

“You wanted to make a big balcony garden just like hers.” Salim shook his head. “It took a while to talk you down too.”

“It’s true,” Asra laughed. “Dad convinced me to start small. He would let me borrow the beakers and jars from your lab. We’d get some dirt and I’d put them on the ledge under my window where you couldn’t see.”

“So that’s where all our equipment went!” Aisha said, smiling at her husband. She placed an arm around his shoulder, pressing herself closer. “And here I was, half-convinced you were melting them down for some explosive new experiment.”

“Aisha, I would never.”

She gave him a knowing look.

“...without telling you first, that is.”

“That is true. I do dislike not being privy to the workings of your beautiful mind, ya qalbi.”

“Of course, ya a’youni. How could I ever do anything without my eyes to guide me so?”

For a while, there was silence, as Aisha and Salim gazed lovingly at each other, lost in the other’s eyes.

Up until Muriel cleared his throat, mumbling, “...Getting mushy must run in the family.”

“Shh, Muriel,” Mine whispered loudly, elbowing him. “It’s romantic . Let them be!”

“Anyway,” Asra said, “So that’s my little secret, mom. I hope you, er, liked it?”

“I loved it, habibi. Thank you, it was very sweet.”

“We should try that again.” Mine bounded up to the chair, settling on the armrest again. “Growing a flower garden. We could get a few more beakers––oh, a proper plant bed maybe? Portia has a great garden, we could ask her for tips and stuff!”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Um, I mean, if you’d like, mom and dad.”

Aisha blinked, confused for a moment, until the meaning clicked. “You want us to garden...together?”

“Only if you want to,” Asra quickly clarified. “It’s fine if you don’t, it really is.”

“Not at all, Asra,” Salim said. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

Aisha nodded firmly.

Asra smiled, then faltered, looking down. Before either Salim or Aisha could ask him what was the matter, he had pulled Mine close, whispering into their ear.

They bobbed their head, before their attention turned to Aisha and Salim. “We were also wondering if the two of you wouldn’t mind joining us for dinner sometime. Yknow, once in a while, we could sit down around the table and um, just enjoy a family meal.”

“A little get-together sort of thing,” Asra added. “Nothing special.”

“Oh, but habibi, that is something special,” Aisha said. “We, we haven’t really had anything like that in a long time.”

“Y-you don’t have to––”

“We want to,” Aisha and Salim said simultaneously.

“Asra,” Aisha began, “We have missed so much, too much, of your life. Every moment we can share with you, even in the littlest ways, they are precious.”

“We can’t make up all that lost time,” Salim said. “But we are going to try and make the most of our present. We can only spend so long lamenting our losses. We want to move forward...with you, Asra, if possible.”

Asra’s eyes glistened in the soft sunlight filtering through the curtain, and Mine put an arm around him, a reassurance.

“There’s no rush, of course,” Aisha said. “We can go at your pace, as you like.”

“N-no, it’s not, it’s not that.”

He cleared his throat, wiping at the corner of his eye with his thumb. Mine undid one of the clothknots from their fingers and offered it, which Asra accepted and dabbed at his eyes.

“Muri, come over here,” Asra waved. “I want you to be closer for this.”

“...fine.”

Muriel shuffled over, chair in hand, before placing it down next to Asra and taking a seat. There was another empty armchair, across from Asra, but it seemed both his partners wanted to stay close to him right now.

Asra took a deep breath, his thumb running over Mine’s knuckles, before he started speaking.

“Mom, dad, I, I spent a long time alone. It was...it wasn’t easy. I had Muri, but we barely got by, especially when we were younger.”

Aisha swallowed, one hand gripping the edges of her hijab as she braced her heart. Neither she nor Salim were not technically at fault, but nonetheless, how could she not feel pain or guilt or grief over what her child, her precious little one, had been forced to go through in the absence of his parents?

How could she not feel responsible for the pain Asra had gone through?

“We had good times, Muri and I, but––but there were a lot of days that hurt. There were a lot of days that were painful and scary.” Another inhale, Mine squeezing his hand. “...But what hurt most of all was wondering if, if you had left me alone on purpose.”

“Asra,” Salim breathed, the shock in his tone mirroring Aisha’s own. “We would never.”

“I know. I know that now. But when I was little and afraid, I had no idea. You just suddenly never came home, and sometimes––sometimes I wondered if it was me. That I had done something wrong, or if there was something wrong with me that made you want to leave.”

Salim opened his mouth to speak, but Aisha raised a hand, wordlessly gesturing for him to wait. Asra still had more to say.

“For the longest time, I believed no one would stay for me.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, dropping into his lap like little pearls, and his lips quivered as he said, “Because you two didn’t stay.”

Asra closed his eyes, exhaling, while more tears dripped down. Muriel passed a handkerchief to Mine, who promptly wiped at Asra’s cheeks.

“T-thanks, Mine, Muri,” he mumbled.

After wiping away most of his tears, Asra raised his head, meeting Aisha and Salim’s gazes.

“Mom, dad, it’s not your fault, but it took me a long time to let people in again. To actually let people love all of me, instead of keeping a part of myself out of their reach so I wouldn’t get hurt. I––I’m actually still afraid, of letting people in. What if they get tired of me? What if they don’t want me anymore? What then?”

Asra had every right to be angry, to be upset, but to Aisha’s astonishment, a smile spread across his face, his expression growing brighter with each word.

“But I don’t want to be held back by my fears anymore. Even if I am afraid, I––I still want to try. Mom, dad, I want to try at us being a family again. I know it won’t be easy, and I know there will be a lot of times where things don’t go the way we planned. Despite that...would you still want to try with me?”

“Of course,” Aisha and Salim answered immediately.

“Asra...you’ve been through so much,” Salim said. “I am so, so sorry for what we put you through. I know the situation was out of our control, but not a day goes by that we don’t regret leaving you alone. You were so young, we should have been there to protect you, to help you.”

“But we weren’t,” Aisha said, unballing her fist and letting her hijab fall back into place. “Habibi, your scars run deep, and neither our apologies or efforts are enough to heal each and every past hurt. You can be angry or bitter towards us, we both understand. Regardless, we will always love you.”

Salim nodded. “No matter what. We might disagree with each other, or argue until our voices go hoarse, or even hate each other for a time, but no matter what happens, our love will never change.”

“To put it simply,” Aisha said, “nothing would make us happier than to try together with you, Asra, to be a family again.”

Asra’s hands flew to his face and he doubled over in the chair, white curls touching his knees.

“Asra?!” Mine and Muriel exclaimed, Muriel jumping to his feet to come closer.

Then, Asra lifted his head, and Aisha understood his reaction.

His cheeks were completely damp, tears flowing freely, along with snot running from his nose. His body quivered with soft sobs he was barely holding in, both his partners hugging him on either side.

He had been such a messy crier as a child, and some things didn’t change.

“I––I’m sorry, I’m just...I’m f––feeling a lot of things right now,” he managed to choke out, attempting a wobbly smile.

“There, there,” Mine said, rubbing his back, while Muriel poured water into his teacup.

Once he had calmed down, though his eyes were still watery, he continued.

“Thanks, mom, dad. Thank you….for everything. I, I never thought I would hear you say that and I just…”

Mine patted his shoulder. “There, there, sayang. We get it. Go at your own pace.”

He rested his head on their chest. “Thank you, dearheart. And you, Muri, love.”

Muriel grunted. He had gone back to sit down, but his chair had been moved closer, in case Asra needed quick comforting once more.

Aisha smiled. “Seems to me like you’ve certainly found many who love you dearly.”

“And I’m lucky for each and every one.”

“As we’re lucky to have you, Asra,” Salim said. “Thank you, habibi, for being the sweetest, kindest and loveliest child there ever was.”

He laughed weakly. “Dad, stop.”

“It is true though,” Aisha said. “Take my word for it, I’m never wrong.”

Asra chuckled and shook his head, affection clear in the gesture. “Mom, dad...I love you. So much.”

Aisha blinked, her vision becoming watery now. She leaned over, grasping Asra’s hand.

Together, she and Salim said, “We love you too.”

The hours seemed to fly by as the conversation carried on, the edges of the blue sky starting to bleed orange soon enough. When Aisha pointed it out, Asra stammered out an invitation to stay for dinner tonight, and Mine jumped to their feet in excitement, suggesting all of them could even cook together.

Naturally, Aisha and Salim happily accepted.

When Asra asked what they would like to eat, Aisha took one look at her husband, and in unison, they answered, “Lamb fatteh!”

In Zadithi tradition, fatteh was a celebratory dish of rice and toasted pita bread, piles of mutton crowning the top and accompanied by savory sauces. Around many parts of the country, it was the Mahrajan dish, for the Mahrajan Qurban, or the Mahrajan Saum.

Aisha had many a happy memory of breaking her fast to a plate piled high with falafel and fatteh and roasted eggplant, family and friends and loved ones all around her, and she could not help but wish her child could also have such wonderful memories too, even if it was a little late.

By sunset, the shop’s kitchen was a mess of splatters and ingredients strewn about, rice sticking to Aisha's hijab while the dark curls of Salim's fringe had stains of tomato paste. Yet at the same time, there was laughter and chatter resounding throughout the whole building, never quiet for a single moment.

And despite the mess, the fatteh turned out beautifully, looking gorgeous as Salim and Muriel brought it out on its large dish, almost dominating the entire coffee table.

Asra closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Quietly, he said, “I haven’t smelled this in years. It’s just as wonderful as I remember.” He opened his eyes, turning to his parents. “I could never find the recipe to make it just like yours.”

“It’s the eggplant,” Salim said, brushing the last of the rice off her hijab. “Your mother loves them.”

Aisha laughed. “It’s the best part. My abi would make it like that.”

“My...grandfather?"

She nodded, her gaze becoming wistful. “It’s been such a while since we’ve seen my family. Your family, Asra. We are planning to reconnect soon...if you would want to.”

Asra bit his lip.

“You don’t have to, habibi,” Salim quickly said. “They are your family regardless, but you don’t have to force yourself into anything.”

“I’ll think about it….but maybe, I would like to meet them. Someday.”

Beside Asra, Mine bumped his shoulder, done with tying Muriel's hair back into a ponytail. “Baby steps, love. Take your time,” they said.

On Asra's other side, Muriel nodded in agreement. With his bangs out of his face, Aisha could see the softness beneath his gruff exterior, the love reflected in the green of his irises as he gazed at his partners. Truly, her child was surrounded by such wonderful people.

“Mine’s right,” Aisha spoke. “You can take your time, Asra. Whether it’s finding your roots in Zadithi, or connecting with us here in Vesuvia, your family isn’t going anywhere.”

Asra’s smile was soft and small, but radiant. “Thanks, mom.”

“Speaking of, can we start digging in yet?” Mine piped up. “I’m starving, and this fatteh smells wayyy too good for just staring at it.”

The rest of the table guffawed, even Muriel chuckling under his breath.

“Dig in, everyone!” Salim said

After reciting a tasmiya, they all began their meal, scooping up piles of rice and bread and lamb and eggplant, drizzling their dishes with ladles of tomato sauce and garlic sauce.

As Aisha was halfway through her plate, Muriel told Asra, “You never did finish the story about the house.”

Asra put down his fork, surprise clear on his face. “Huh? What did I leave out?”

“Why it took so long for this place to be built.”

Asra’s cheeks flushed at this, in a way Aisha was starting to recognize.

“Asra Alnazar,” she said, “what did you do this time?”

“ Nothing ,” he said, though his expression was sheepish. “Things just...took a while. No one wanted this palace until Melaka came along. Once she did, she bought this lot and the one behind, and well, she rebuilt.”

“Despite Asra’s best efforts,” Mine whispered to Muriel, grinning.

“What do you mean?” Aisha asked, ears sharp as ever, before turning to Asra. “Habibi, what do they mean?

The blush grew deeper, his cheeks aflame, and he looked away.

“Go on, Asra,” Muriel said, a little quiet, but a small, teasing smile tugging on his usually downturned mouth. “Tell them all about the hauntings.”

“The what ?” Salim exclaimed.

Asra covered the lower half of his face with his hands, his cheeks aflame now.

Mine cackled. “Go on, Asra. I’m sure your parents will love this.”

With a sigh, he relented. “So, dad, mom, after the landlord kicked me out, I may have been, well, scaring all the new tenants away.”

“With an actual ghost?” Salim said.

“N–no, that was just me, doing some magic. Playing some pranks.”

“Scaring every single resident half to death,” Mine said.

“And sending them scurrying out in the middle of the night,” Muriel added.

“Yes, that.” Asra cleared his throat, continuing in a quieter voice, “And I may have also...committed property damage after Melaka first moved in.”

“ What?! ” Aisha said, her voice going shrill, trying to keep the grin from spreading across her face. “Asra!”

“Don’t forget breaking and entering,” Muriel chimed in.

“Trespassing too~” Mine sang. “I’m surprised auntie didn’t curse you into a toad or something.”

Asra glanced from one partner to the other. “Tonight is just about dredging up my entire embarrassing history, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mine and Muriel replied.

“And we’re enjoying every bit of it,” Mine said, Muriel bobbing his head as well.

“So what happened next?” Aisha interjected. “Were you caught by Miss Melaka?”

“Yep,” Muriel said.

“I was,” Asra admitted. “And then…”

The night passed with stories of past memories, both the ones Aisha and Salim knew, and those they didn’t. And while a part of Aisha’s heart still panged at how much she had missed, she couldn’t help the joy and delight blossoming in her chest.

Perhaps they could not take back the past.

But to be allowed to be a part of Asra’s present, to be able to learn about the sort of person her child used to be and the person he was now, it was a gift beyond measure.

And to know that they were still a family, that he still had a place in his life for them after all these years?

It was beyond her wildest dreams.

––––

Notes Disclaimer: I'm not Middle Eastern or Arab, and much of this is pulled from the internet as well as some of my own basic knowledge as a Malaysian Muslim. Please feel free to correct anything.

Qanun: A type of stringed instrument found across the Middle East, Asia, Africa and southeastern Europe. Riq: A type of tambourine and a traditional instrument in Arab music. It's the national musical instrument of Pakistan Revani/Basbousa: A type of sweet cake popular in the Middle East, and has many names Fatteh: A type of dish that is served differently depending on region. In Egypt, it is a type of feast meal

Abi (ابي): Arabic, from abu (أب)/father, meaning 'my father' Habibi (حبيبي): Arabic, from huub (حب)/love, meaning 'my love' Ya Qalbi (قلبي): Arabic, from qalb (قلب)/heart, meaning 'my heart' Ya A'youni (عيونى): Arabic, from a'in (عين)/eye, meaning 'my eyes', an affectionate petname. *Ya is a word often placed before names/nouns, ie 'Ya Aisha' or 'Ya Habibi'. The closest translation I understand is akin to saying "O Aisha", but not quite accurate

Mahrajan (مهرجان) : Arabic, meaning festival. Eid, the biggest celebrations of the Muslim world, can also translate to festival and in this story, Mahrajan is essentially fantasy!Eid. Mahrajan Qurban refers to Eid ul Adha, while Mahrajan Saum refers to Eid ul Fitri Tasmiya (تَسْمِيَّة): Arabic, a fantasy equivalent to the Basmala. In Muslim tradition, it is common to utter a Basmala before carrying out a task such as before eating

Clothknots: Mine has ADHD and to help with their forgetfulness, they often tie clothknots around their fingers to serve as reminders Sayang: Malay, meaning 'love'. Here, it's used as a petname

#the arcana game #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fan apprentice #asra alnazar #muriel (the arcana)#aisha alnazar #salim alnazar #trauma discussion tw #i absolutely adored writing this #it was such a palette cleanser!#i hope yall like this too #mimi's originals #writing by the mims

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deepperplexity · 4 years

Text

Prompt: 22. Trembling

A/N: So I'm not much for writing young Snape romantically - I much prefer the older one - but I got a little idea for a story and I wanted to try it out. I hope I managed to do the idea in my head some sort of justice and that you all enjoy it <3

Setting: Hogwarts, the day before leaving for the holidays

Pairing: Snape x Reader (both in their seventh year at Hogwarts)

ABBR.: │ (y/n) - Your Name │ (y/l/n) - Your Last Name │

Word count: 3248

Warnings: Harsh Language, Angst, Fluff, Bullying

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Prologue: You have been in love with Severus for nearly two years now, but he had seemed oblivious to you and each time you had tried to befriend him, or even talk to him, he had been nearly cruel in his words as he pushed you away in all manners possible. But you were resilient and would not quit bugging him in your efforts to catch his attention. But, even you had a limit to what you could take and you were balancing on it after such a long time of giving it your best effort to get him to allow you into his life; and hopefully heart.

He was soaked. You heard the laughter and the snickering as he stood absolutely still in pure shock while water drenched him, soaked his clothes and flattened his long black hair. Your heart skipped a beat as tears sprung to your eyes as you stood halfway up the stairs watching him below you. Those fucking Marauders! They're so damn cruel! As that thought ran through your head you heard the howling laughter of those exact people.

Your head whipped around, your eyes instantly locked on James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Lily. They stood on the staircase just above Severus; Sirius and James each held a bucket each that had obviously been filled with the water that had been dumped over Severus. You were fuming, your fists clenched at your sides as you watched them laugh. Except for Lily, she just sneered at Severus with a tired look. How can she just fucking stand there? How cold can a person be? At least the other idiots claim their actions and their ugly sides... But she, you were fuming as your eyes shoot figurative bolts of lightning at the girl who was one of the reasons Severus had not accepted your requests at being friends - or even on speaking terms. You knew that. You knew how he looked at her, and damn it hurt.

"Oy, Snivellus, feeling a bit cleaner?" James laughed out with a high five from Sirius who howled with laughter. Remus chuckled, Peter looked happy and Lily seemed to care more about her nails than the scene that was unfurling in front of her. You clenched your jaw as your eyes switched view and landed on Severus who was still standing absolutely still as water pooled around his feet. Your heart clenched at the sight of him, your stomach twisted and you started to tremble with fuming, glowing, boiling rage. It coursed through your every fibre as your hand unclenched and reached for your wand.

It all happened so fast. Your actions fuelled by the dooming rage that pulsed through you as you directed the tip of your wand towards the idiots one floor up and in the next instant they were soaking wet as a fountain of water spewed from your wand. Fuelled by your raging emotions. Silence fell as the sound of water took over. It only took a single moment to drench them all - and a few bystanders. But they had laughed too so why the heck not?

"(y/l/n)! NO-!" Severus screamed and it pulled you out of the pounding emotions that that locked you in your stance as water finally stopped spewing from your wand. You were panting, your hand and wand trembled as you shook from your own shocking action. You had never done anything like that before. Seven years at Hogwarts and I, I lose control now-?! You thought as your hand lowered while the Marauders were still coughing and trying to get up of the floor as the water had truly flown out of your wand like a wave and crashed into them with force.

You turned your head towards Severus who gawked at you. Except for the sloshing of wet clothes and some coughing, the silence was as thick as morning fog. He looked at you, shocked and perhaps taken aback from your actions. For a moment you were just frozen in place as the realisation hit you. You had stooped to their level. You had retaliated - rather splendidly as well might you add.

But the look Severus gave you wasn't a happy one, it wasn't thankful or grateful. He looked horrified and it broke your heart. Tears sprung to your eyes and in an instant, your legs began moving. You hurled yourself down the stairs as students started to whisper and point. You passed Severus in a rush, unable to look at anyone as you tried to keep the tears from falling freely. As you tried to keep your heart in one piece in your chest.

You barrelled your way through corridor after corridor until you got to the courtyard at the back. You flung yourself through the doors as the faint echo of your name being called reached you. But you ran. Ran and cried. Stumbled and sobbed. Somehow, you ended up at the Whomping Willow at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. You stopped outside of its reach as you heaved for air. Your lungs burned as your cheeks turned wet from tears.

You tried to force air into your lungs, tried to confine the emotions that raged through you like the crashing of waves on a stormy sea seeking to devour all ships. To sink all things and snatch them from the light, clutch them in the deep dark of eternal night. Just, breath, breath, maybe he-, maybe he doesn't hate- no, that look... A sharp pain shot through you, it echoed through your soul as the look on Severus's face flashed before your inner eye.

You sobbed and snivelled as you tried to wipe away the salty tears. Your legs were shaking and your hands still trembled. Your chest felt too tight, yet it could have caved in on itself at the same time from the hollow feeling. How was that even possible? Could you break so badly you turned hollow?

A twig snapped, your head whipped around as Severus called out your name with a hoars voice. as if he had been screaming for a long time. Your eyes widened as he appeared at the top of the hill a little ways away from you. "Leave me alone!" you screamed at him with a broken voice as you were still crying. He started to run towards you on those long slender legs. "(y/n), you-" "Leave me alone!" you screamed again as you started to step backwards. As you tried to increase the distance he so hastily shortened.

"(Y/N), DON'T-" he screamed and you saw that horrible expression of horror again in his eyes and it hit you with such force you stumbled from the recent memory in the Entrance Hall. You were just about to fall when your breath was knocked out of you as something hard hit your back so harshly you landed face forward in the cold snow with a thud. You lost your bearing as your head had taken quite a hit against the ground. The tiny layer of snow did nothing to dampen the blow.

"(Y/N)! RUN!" Severus screamed as you tried to lift yourself up of the ground. What the- but you had no more time to think as a large tree branch slammed itself down right next to you. Missing you by merely the width of a wand. You tried to force air into your lungs after the previous harsh blow as your head spun and your back protested against any movement you tried to force your body to do. Severus shouted at you to move, run, get away - but you couldn't get up.

"MOVE!" he screamed and you rolled away just in time before another branch slammed down where you had laid a mere second earlier. You managed to get up in a crawling position and threw yourself forward with all your strength. You were nearly, nearly out of reach for the damn tree as it slammed its branches down again. The tip of one struck your foot and the force of the blow made you scream out in pain as Severus grabbed your hands and pulled you away from the tree with such force you landed on top of him.

You both laid panting on the wet, cold ground as the tree straightened and stopped flinging its branches around. You tried to catch your breath as Severus held onto you. You barely realized it at first but once your mind became aware of him beneath you, his arms around your waist, his face so close to your own... Your breath hitched, you tensed and you flung yourself off him so fast you had to scramble to find your own limbs in the flailing mess you were.

You managed to get up, somehow, as he rose elegantly despite his long limbs. Your heart hammered as he looked at you. Your mouth went dry as the memory of his horror-filled eyes from earlier flashed by as he still had a slight look of horror etched in those onyx galaxies that were his eyes. You couldn't bear to look at him when he wore that expression you knew came from anger at you, or perhaps even hatred at what you had done. It made no sense that he would be angry with you for defending him but you still saw it, felt it. It couldn't be anything else when his eyes wore such an expression.

You turned around as you hugged yourself. Your back ached, your body shook and you felt fresh tears as they leaked from your eyes. You sobbed as some form of reality hit you that you had fucked up and now, he would never allow you to be close to him. Perhaps now he wouldn't just dismiss you but effectively shut you out... You shivered as the thoughts of his hatred and rejection ran through you.

"Are you cold?" Severus asked and his voice frightened you so you jumped slightly as it came from such close proximity. You twisted your head at the same time only to find him mere inches from you. You froze. Never had he been so close before as he had been that day. Before it was unintentional but now, he had stood himself right by you.

"(y/n), are you cold?" he asked again as you couldn't make a sound. All you could think of, all you could feel, was your pounding heart and his beautiful eyes paired with the long black hair that screamed for you to reach out and run your fingers through it. But you didn't, of course, you didn't do that. But you wanted to, oh by Merlin how you wanted to touch those silky strands. but you merely looked at him as your body vibrated from the shivers as you were without any proper attire to be outside in such cold temperatures.

In the next moment, it was like you realised he spoke to you, realised he was so close, realised he had followed you - called for you and basically saved you from the deadly tree. You took a step back from him as uncertainty crawled through you. How angry was he with you? Did he hate you now? Was that what his eyes were screaming at you? You hadn't a clue and it freaked you out immensely. You felt your face turn pale - from the thoughts, the worry, but also the physical pain you were in as the tree had landed two harsh blows on you.

"Why did you do that?" he asked and his words surprised you, he sounded angry, or perhaps exasperated - you couldn't quite tell as his voice was so damn deep it thundered out of his mouth no matter what he said. "I-, I-" But you found no words. You had never confessed your feelings to him, you had only ever dared hope to perhaps befriend him. Why would he, excellent as he was, be interested in you? You weren't anything special or fancy, nor were you excellent as he was. You were, quite frankly, just you.

He raised a brow slightly at you and a blush crept in as you folded your eyes towards the ground. His was just too deep, too wide, to hexing to look into any longer. You feared you would drown if you kept staring into them as they swirled with black stardust. "You shouldn't have done that," he murmured on a small sigh and you lowered your head as your shoulders shot up towards your ears. "I'm sorry, I, I just wanted to- I couldn't just stand by and watch. They're, they're horrendous..." Your voice was low yet you managed to squeeze out the words through the lump that had formed in your throat.

"They are, you shouldn't have butted in (y/n), you should have just let it-" You whipped up your head with a glare towards him. Suddenly quite angry with him instead. "You shouldn't be treated like that! You shouldn't have to deal with shit like that!" you shouted as he stared at you, "It's not fair! They treat you worse than garbage! I can't- I can't stand it! I can't just look, I can't just stand by and let them torment the one I love-" Your hand covered your mouth instantly without even finishing your sentence.

You stared at him with wide eyes as he did the same at you. Your words felt heavy in the air as your body stiffened, prepared to run for the hills if need be. "You- you what?" Severus stuttered out and your face turned scarlet as he gawked at you. His eyes impossibly large and the usual pale skin a tad flushed. You couldn't help how your heart pounded, how your body trembled and shook - how your entire being screamed at you to run as if your life depended on it. But you were utterly frozen. Your boots stuck to the ground. Your shoulders stiff while your legs felt like jelly.

Well, that's one way to fucking do it, you thought as reality started to entwine with that fantasy world of yours. Just, perhaps not in the way you had wanted it to as Severus yet again looked horrified, or maybe disgusted, you couldn't quite be sure. It was difficult to tell what went on inside of him but it appeared to be negative, whatever it was.

You let your hand fall away from your mouth, it limply landed beside your body as if something just left you, some will or power perhaps. Something, hope or perhaps a dream. "I love you," you whispered as tears once again welled in your eyes, "I love you and I'm sorry to disgust you like that." You exhaled as the tears started to fall. It was over. Your fantasy world where you were by his side, loved by him, came crashing down as if it were an avalanche set on tumbling down a mountainside. You crumbled along with it. As good as buried beneath its weight, as good as dead as your hollow chest felt as if it had truly caved in on itself.

You turned from him, your body felt as if it were not your own. You felt naked in reality; stripped of that one piece of a dream you had held on to for dear life for such a long time. You started to walk away from him only to be held back by slim fingers wrapped around your wrist. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes landed right at his swirling galaxies of onyx and black stardust that looked intently yet harshly on you.

"I told you to stay away," he growled, you nodded, "I told you to ignore me," he continued and you nodded once more. He sighed, deeply. "I told you, over and over, not to butt in." You nodded once more as you wiped away tears from your cheeks with your free hand. The wind swiped over you and tossed about his black hair as you shivered from its frozen fangs that nibbled at you through the thin clothes you wore.

He tugged on your arm, you stumbled a step towards him. When you looked up he glared down at you. "I told you," he hissed, "to stay, away." In the next instant, his lips smashed against yours. Harshly. It took you a moment to realise what happened and then his lips were gone as you gawked at him. "I told you, to stay, away. I told you so many damn times (y/n). So, many, times," he hissed as his arms snaked around you. You looked at him, confused. Yet your body, it seemed to know what to do. As if it were second nature to be close to him. As if the stars had aligned and the world was righted when he was in your embrace and you in his.

His lips pressed against yours again and this time your fingers snared themselves in his hair as you kissed him back. It felt as if life were breathed into you. As if some of the endless universe that swirled inside of him filled the hollow in your chest and leaked out to fill your entire being. "I told you," he grumbled against your lips, "because I knew you couldn't stay out of it if you knew..." He left your lips at the last word as you were both panting. You just stared at him, all your thoughts were trying to make sense of what was happening. Have I been killed by that damn tree and gone to heaven?

His cold fingers stroked away some hairs from your forehead before his lips landed softly where his fingers had just touched you gently. "I knew you couldn't stay out of it, so I needed you to stay away from me. Then, you'd be safe," he whispered as his voice vibrated over you. A darkness curled around the sound, claws stroked your soul as gently as any feather could have.

"What, do you mean?" you breathed out as it was hard to get air down in your lungs when you were so close to him. He looked down at you. The onyx eyes, the hooked nose, the thin lips and the defined jaw. The black curtains of hair that framed his thin face - it was all pure perfection for you. "I mean, you would be in the line of fire if you were with me. And that," he said with a kiss between your eyebrows, "is unacceptable. As, I love you."

Your heart nearly stopped. Your knees nearly gave out beneath you. Your lungs barely remembered how to function. But your lips, they functioned properly as they were slammed on top of his as you pressed yourself into the caring young man who enveloped you in the warmest of embraces. Your fingers snaked between the strands of his hair as his hands held your hips gently yet firmly. I must have died and gone to heaven, you thought as the taste and smell of him overtook you. As you both trembled from cold and heat, from fear and passion - from joy.

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[Dec:2020]

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