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buttterknifeee · 3 years

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Date with Destiny- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: you guessed it bitches its the prom episode with everyone's fav guy Robin (S2 Ep6)

Pairings: Robin!Dick grayson x reader

Word count: 4218

A/N: hey yall I love writing for this series bfgkfhg so if you want my inbox is always open to request!!! love yallll~

Nights in Jump City are the worst time of the day; the sun is long gone and the wind constantly bites at your skin. But it depends on what you're doing to decide whether you like it or not. Sometimes it’s not as bad; that’s when you’re hanging out with your friends, maybe going to a carnival or out partying all night. Sometimes it’s worse, like you being forced to chase after some villain who decided to only operate AT NIGHT. Unfortunately, the latter is true for you tonight.

You slump over in the backseat of the T-Car while Cyborg and Raven sit attentively at the front.

“Why can’t I sit in the front?” you whine, staring at the two Titan’s heads.

“Because I’m the only one that knows how to drive this car and Raven needs to use her telekinesis so we dont die!” Cyborg yells, focusing on the target, who happens to be a guy with a spider for his head that stole a bunch of jewelry.

You groaned and poked your head out the window. Starfire and Beast Boy were up in the air, Robin close by on his motorbike, and you were all chasing the half-arachnid. You stretched out of the vehicle and made punching movements at the criminal, ocean water from the bay twisting over towards him, mimicking your movements. The jets of water just barely nicked him before crashing into the sides of buildings, the teenage spider continuing to scuttle across the city.

You turn your attention back towards the road as the spider guy created a webbed barrier in front of Cyborg’s car and Robin’s motorcycle. You and Cyborg gasp, but Raven calmly holds her hand up towards the road. It cracks, creating a ramp for the four of you to jump over the webs with.

After making the jump, the half spider looks at the car. He shoots webs at you, and its splats on the car windshield.

“I can’t see!” Cyborg yells, swerving the car over to the side. You lurch forward as you finally come to a stop, thankful that Cyborg had installed heavy duty seat belts.

“I don’t see why you can’t let me drive,” you mumbled, stumbling out of the car. You aimed your hands towards the car and a jet of water sprung out from a fire hydrant, cleaning the silk from the windshield.

“I already said it, I’m the only one who knows the inner workings of the T-car! Besides, you don’t even have your license.” Cyborg said, stepping out of the car calmer than before.

“I do too!- You know what, we’ll talk about this later. Right now we need to find the others.” You say, taking in your surroundings. Then out of nowhere, Beast Boy popped out from behind the car.

“Uh hey guys! Kinda got lost back there!” he grins, dusting off silk strands from his arms.

“I’m going after them!” you tell the other Titans, sprinting off into the direction Robin and Starfire went. You flick your wrist as you run and water from the fire hydrant trickles out and forms a wave that you could ride on, like an aquatic skateboard.

You catch up to the two as Starfire gets shot down by the spider teen’s webbing. You make eye contact as you pass her, unsure whether to help her free.

“Just go!” she yells, already beginning to rip the webs thanks to her brute strength. You nod and race forwards to catch up with Robin. You find his abandoned motorbike and look up to see him chasing after the villain using his grappling hook. I’m trying to help him, but I can barely catch up to him, you grumble as you will the water to shoot you into the air, almost like a hydro-cannon. You bounce from roof to roof, inching closer to the Boy Wonder and his pursuit with the villain.

You were right under Robin when the spider-guy shoots some type of laser at him. Suddenly, he freezes up, and begins to fall, knocking you down with him.

“C-can’t… move,” he grunts, on top of you in mid air.

“YEAH NO SHIT” you yell, still stuck under him. Ok ok, options… you think, time seems to slow down around you. I can’t make a geyser because that’d take too long. I like Robin but not enough to break his fall, hmm…

You notice the grappling hook in his belt. You yank it out and shoot it at the wall you just fell from, wrapping your other arm around Robin. Your arm feels like it was about to fall out of its socket as you abruptly stop, hanging in mid air with Robin safely in your grasp. Starfire catches up with you, having broken free from the webbed trap. She helps you down and brings you to where Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Raven stood.

“He is okay?” Starfire asks, holding Robin in place while you catch your breath.

“He will be. The venom’s effect is only temporary.” Cyborg says, examining the Boy Wonder, who was still frozen in a climbing position.

“Getting away...we have to...go after him!” Robin musters, but almost falls over doing so.

“You mean, we have to go after him,” Raven corrects him.

“Yeah, you gotta wait until that stuff wears off,” you say, knocking on his frozen arm to prove your point.

“But-” Robin begins, but Beast Boy cuts him off.

“Dude, we can handle it. The guy's got a spider for a head. Not like he's gonna be hard to find.” he said. Robin didn’t say anything, which was code for a reluctant agreement. Cyborg, Raven, and Beast Boy agreed that they would go after the spider thief, while you, Robin and Starfire return to the Tower to get Robin sorted out.

Later at the Tower, you watched in utter horror and amusement as Starfire shook Robin while holding his feet. He hung upside down, making random yelps of pain as she did… whatever she was doing.

“Um Starfire?” you say. “You know I have healing powers… I could just heal him if we need to.”

“Nonsense Aquagirl!” she chirped as Robin groaned. “There are few problems that Tamaranean acupressure will not solve. Don’t you feel better Robin?”

“Uhhh yeah, thanks.” he said, getting back up to standing position. “Now we can focus on our other issue.” He pulls out his T-communicator.

“Titans! Any luck on finding our jewel thief?”

“We found something worse,” you hear Raven’s voice from the communicator. A live cam of the scene pops up on the living room TV screen. They were at the bridge near Jump City’s Bay; hundreds of cars pass there per minute. You noticed something was near the bridge cables, and upon closer inspection, you realized that it was thousands of moths gnawing at the bridge support. As more cables broke, the bridge grew more and more unstable, cars beginning to slide around.

“Titans go!” you hear Cyborg say, and the three of them run towards the giant cloud of bugs. Unfortunately, they were no match and could barely put a dent in the population.

“Uh, we’re gonna need backup.” Cyborg says to the communicator. You were already out of your chair and adjusting your wrist gauntlets.

“We’re on our way,” Robin says, the three of you making your way to the door. But a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Don't bother. Even if you defeat a few of my children, you won't be able to stop me from releasing the entire swarm.” the villain you recognized as Killer Moth said, his face appearing on the screen. “Unless you want your city reduced to a moth-eaten wasteland, you'll do exactly as I say.”

“What do you want?’ Robin asked, brows furrowed.

“My demands are simple. The city will declare me ruler, the Teen Titans will surrender, and Robin…” he starts. You flinched at the mention of the Boy Wonder’s name. What could he want to do with Robin? To step down as a hero? Admit defeat? Reveal his identity???

“... will take this lovely young lady to her junior prom.”

Huh?

“Hi Robbie-Poo!” said a girl who appeared on the screen next to Killer Moth. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, was wearing pink pajamas, and although you had just met her, you could already tell that she was a bitch.

“Um… What was that last part again?” he asked, clearly not expecting that demand.

“Um Robin?” you ask. “Who’s this girl and why’d she call you… er, you know.”

“Her name is Kitten,” Killer Moth gloats. “And you will take her to prom.”

“This prom is the matter of a duel, yes?” Starfire asked, not very assimilated in American culture. “Robin eagerly accepts!”

“It’s not a duel, Star. It’s a date.” Robin patiently corrects her.

“Oh”

“Robin! You can’t do this!” you say, looking at him through his masked eyes. “Isn’t that right Starfire?”

“Oh yes!” she agrees. “You mustn't accept!”

“We’re gonna need a minute,” Robin sighs, pulling the two of you away from the center of the room. You stare at him, arms crossed.

“This is so stupid.” you begin. “What kind of villain makes a superhero go on a date with some girl? And what kind of parent names their child Kitten? There’s no way you’re actually going to go to a dance with some random chick!”

Robin doesn’t say anything about your comments, but opens his T-communicator again,

“Cyborg, report. How bad is it?” he asks.

“Bad! We can’t hold 'em much longer!” Cyborg yells through the communicator. “If you’re gonna do something, do it quickly!” You stared at the floor, knowing what he’s gonna have to say to Killer Moth’s demands.

“I have to do it.” he grimaces. You stayed silent as Starfire reacted.

“WHAT?!” she yells.

“It's the only way to save the bridge. The only way to give us enough time to stop Killer Moth.” Robin explains. Starfire looks at you and back at Robin.

“But you do not even have the feelings for her!” she protests, looking straight at you.

“I’m sorry, but I have to, as much as I don’t want to. And I really don’t want to.” Robin says, walking back towards the screen.

“So do we have a deal?” Killer Moth grins, as much as a person with mandibles can.

“I’ll take the girl to prom.” Robin says grimly.

“Don’t tell me. Ask her.” Killer Moth says, referring to the blonde girl still pasted on screen. Even though you couldn’t see Robin’s eyes, you could tell that he was rolling them.

“You’ve got to be-”

“Do it!” the villain yells. Robin sighs.

“Kitten, was it?” he asks.

“Meow,” she replied. You almost threw up when she said that. You could see Robin reacting in the same way.

“Right. Will you...go with me to the prom?” he said, his voice showing his utter disgust.

“Oh, Robbie-poo! I thought you'd never ask!”

I can’t do this you thought, as the screen finally blipped off. Robin calmly pulled out his T-communicator and projected it onto the screen. Raven picked up, Beast Boy and Cyborg crowded around her. You could see in the background that the moths were no longer gnawing at the bridge. He told them that he bought them some time, telling them to find out what he has planned. Then he shows them a picture of Kitten.

“Who is she?” Raven asked.

“She is a manipulative gremlock not worthy of Robin's time.” Starfire pouts.

“Yeah, she's a bitch too.” you add.

“She's got some kind of connection to Killer Moth. Find the connection, and I bet you'll find him.” He said, turning to you and Starfire. “Aquagirl and Starfire will join you to help with the search.” you rolled your eyes; Is he seriously going to do this alone?

“Hey, what about you? Aren’t you going to help us?” Beast Boy asked.

“I can’t. I have a date.”

You and Starfire were going to prepare for your mission when she shoved you into her room. You’ve forgotten how pink all her furniture is, from the curtains to her pillows. She whips out her T-communicator.

“Starfire what are you-” you begin, but she shushes you.

“Starfire to Raven,” she says into the communicator. “Please note that I will be the only person joining you, as Aquagirl will provide Robin backup on his date!”

“Um… okay.” Raven says, then hangs up.

“What??? I’m supposed to help you guys, remember?” you protest. “And I thought you had a crush on Robin??” The alien girl took you by your shoulders.

“Aquagirl, my feelings for Robin have long dissipated, but I am sure you still have the feelings for him!” she chirped. “Do not worry, four Titans are more than enough to defeat Killer Moth! You should go to the prom of non-duels!”

“B-but what do I even wear? Prom dresses were not on my shopping list.” you argue.

“Oh do not worry Aquagirl, you may borrow mine!” Starfire opened her closet to reveal a rack of sparkly dresses, all in different colors. You eyes glittered in awe.

“Ok, I’m in.”

You spent the next half an hour getting ready for the prom. You picked out a blue dress with black lace and black gloves that went out to your elbows. Your suit was camouflaged underneath, just in case you needed to ditch the dress.

“Oh you look wonderful!” Starfire cheered. You blushed, looking at yourself in the mirror.

She flew you over to the prom location, which was on a boat. Water, you thought. Perfect. You looked at Starfire.

“Thanks again for, uh, everything.” you said sheepishly. She smiled.

“It is the no problem!” she says. “I will see you afterwards!” And with that, she flew off into the night. You sighed, holding a corsage for Robin in your hand. You hear the sound of a motorbike. Robin appeared in view; he was still wearing his mask, but his usual outfit had been replaced by a tuxedo. He was still stoically frowning, probably due to not wanting to be here, but something about him just makes your heart skip a beat.

You walked over and tapped his shoulder. He flinched at your touch, but calmed down as he realized that it was you.

“Aquagirl?” he asked, eyeing you up and down.

“Um, just call me (y/n) for today, don’t want to raise eyebrows.” you winked. You pinned the flowers onto his lapel. “It’s my first prom, so I got you a corsage.” It’s true; this is your first prom. You were supposed to go to your junior prom this year, but of course, being a superhero kinda distracted you from that.

“Aqu- (y/n)...” he began. “You’re supposed to be helping the others track down Killer Moth.”

“Well, you said that our job was to investigate that b- uh, girl. And there’s no better way to do it than up close.” you grin. “Besides, Starfire insisted that I backed you up, you never know if you need saving, right?”

Just then, you heard a loud honk from a car. You turn to see a pink limousine pull out. Out stepped an even pinker girl, Kitten. Her headband, dress, corsage, and heels were all an obnoxious pink. She scoured the scene until she found Robin, fiercely waving at him.

“Yoo-hoo! Robbie-poo! Your Kitten has arrived! Me-ow!” she yells. You both physically cringe at her words. Robin leans over to you before he leaves.

“On second thought, maybe I will need the savings.”

You purse your lips as Robin leaves, reluctantly linking arms with the girl. You open your T-communicator.

“Cyborg,” you say. “Robin just entered the boat with Kitten. “How’s it looking on your side?”

“Poor guy,” he says sympathetically. “We just reached Kitten’s house. Going in now. Nice dress by the way.” You grin.

“Thanks man. I’ll be watching him just to see if he needs any help.”

“Got it. Cyborg out.” the screen blips to black and you close your communicator with a sigh. Time for prom.

You awkwardly shuffle onto the boat, making sure to stay a few meters behind the two. Luckily, no one noticed that you didn’t go to their school because they were so distracted by Kitten’s yelling.

“OH ROBIN!, YOU’RE SUCH A GENTLEMAN! NOT AT ALL LIKE MY WORTHLESS EX-BOYFRIEND FANG!!!” your fists clenched as she moved closer to the Boy Wonder, all over his arm. Why did we let her take Robin to the prom again? I’d rather see that bridge collapse than whatever this is.

You stationed yourself at the punch table, pouring yourself a drink. The two were talking at the table. You knew Robin didn’t want to be here in the beginning, but what if he changed his mind? What if, somehow, he falls in love with Kitten, and then you are never gonna have a chance with him?

“OF COURSE ROBIN I’D LOVE TO DANCE WITH YOU!!!” Kitten yelled, the two of them moving towards the dance floor. Your cheeks burned with anger, and maybe a little bit of jealousy. You clenched your fist again, and the sickly pink punch from the punch bowl shot into the air. The couple next to you who was about to get some punch slowly walked backwards away from you. But you didn’t care. You stomped away from the punch table.

You were leaning at one of the clothed tables as you glared at Robin and Kitten dancing away. You don’t even know why you felt so angry; maybe it was the fact that they’ve been dancing for 10 long minutes, or the fact that Kitten’s resting her head on his shoulder, or maybe the fact that you’ve never held Robin’s hand before and she is!

You notice him looking at his T-communicator while he was dancing, relieving you of the idea that he was actually enjoying the dance.

“Kiss me,” you hear Kitten say, and you froze.

“Sorry, I don’t like you that way,” he smirks. “As a matter of fact, I just don’t like you.” YES, you thought, smiling from the table.

“WHAT?!” the blonde girl shrieks.

“Killer Moth’s being taken down as we speak. We’re done here.” He pulls away, tucking his T-communicator into his pocket.

“No we are not!” she yells, ripping the corsage off of her dress. The petals fall away to reveal a cylinder, push-button controller. “Daddy’s not calling the shots tonight, I AM!!!”

“Daddy?” you and Robin said at the same time, in shock. So that's why Killer Moth made Robin go to the prom with her.

“And unless you want me to let those bugs out for a late-night snack, you better pucker up!” she makes kissy noises at Robin, her lips inching closer and closer. Robin put his finger out at them as if to shush her.

“Not even if you paid me,” he said, pushing her away and grabbing the controller out of her hand. They fight over it, and you wonder whether to jump in and help. Suddenly Kitten turns her focus away from Robin.

“Fang?” she smiled. You turned to see the jewel thief from before climbing onto the boat, spider head and all.

“That’s your ex boyfriend?” he asked, staring in shock.

“Get your hands off my girl!” he yells, knocking Robin down with his spider leg, Kitten snatching back the controller. Ok, time to act you thought, holding up your hand. A jet of water sprung up from under the boat and hit Fang, sending him flying backwards.

“And keep your legs off my guy!” you yelled, not even sure if you and Robin were on that level yet. “You alright Rob?” you ask as the Boy Wonder stands up.

“Best I’ve felt all day,” he smirked, ripping off his suit to reveal his costume underneath. You smiled; you two seemed to be on the same track in terms of disguise. You ripped your dress off and your costume uncamouflaged, revealing the familiar blue and black swim gear you always wear. You yank off your gloves to show your gauntlets underneath, the spikes swing up into place. You both look back at Kitten and Fang to find them making out; mandibles and all.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you mumble, getting into a fighting position.

“You know…” Robin says, bring the couple’s attention back to you two. “You two make a really bad couple.” Fang charges at the two of you, shooting his webs and venom. One of the webs hit you, sending you to the floor. You used the spikes on your gauntlets to cut yourself free while the spider villain goes after Robin. You finally free yourself as Kitten watches the action.

“Isn’t it romantic? They’re fighting over me!” she swoons. Your cheeks burn hot with anger. Now that you're out of disguise, it's the perfect time to beat her up.

“You’re not worth anyone’s time to fight over!” you quipped loudly, causing Kitten to start screaming at you. She tackles you, and the two of you fall onto the table.

“What the-” you grunt, the air knocked out of you as you crash into the food. You roll over and pin her to the table. You try to reach for the controller, but Kitten smacks a cream pie in your face. She pins you down this time, but you extend your leg to her side and swing, sending her flying across the table. She lands flat on her back, stretched lengthwise across the table. You lunge at her, but she grabs you and dunks your head into the punch bowl. You almost burst out laughing; she was trying to drown you, and you could breathe underwater.

Your eyes glow blue from underneath the punch bowl as the beverage explodes in the girl’s hunched over face. She screams, and you push her into the chocolate cake. She lands on the floor, her pink dress now stained with chocolate frosting.

“YOU.. RUINED… MY… DRESS!!!” she screams, clicking the controller. You gasp in horror, she’s crazy. She runs at you again, screaming and you dodge her, using your water powers to shoot the controller out of her hand. The controller rolls away, right towards the bottom of Robin’s foot.

“Consider yourself dumped.” he said, breaking the controller.

“NOOOOOOO!!!” she shrilled. You rolled your eyes and punched her square in the nose, her falling to the ground.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” you grin at the Boy Wonder, who looked at you in awe.

The other Titans rejoined you as you watched Kitten, Killer Moth, and Fang get pulled into a police van.

“Nobody dumps Kitten! Nobody! You're going to pay for this, Robbie-poo! YOU'RE GOING TO PASAY!!” the blonde girl screamed while being pushed into one of the vans.

“So, no second date?” Cyborg jokes. Beast Boy was sitting over the edge of the boat holding one of Killer Moth’s moth larvae. According to them, the controller Kitten had allowed them to turn into moths, but when Robin broke it, they all turned back into harmless giant bugs.

“So what becomes of Killer Moth’s larvae population?” Starfire asks.

“You know...now that nobody's making 'em all mutate-y,.these things might actually make good pets.” Beast Boy said, poking at the larvae's belly.

“Don’t even think about it.” Raven says, staring in disgust.

You and Robin walk towards some of the students to apologize for ruining their nights when spotlights turn on, the bright lights moving across the floor. The two of you braced for impact. The announcer began to, well, announce.

“And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...the king and queen of this year's prom are...Robin and (y/n)!” Your eyes widened at the announcement.

“I’m back on duty so it’s Aquagirl now! Sorry!” you yelled awkwardly.

“Well um then Aquagirl-” Robin begins, but you stop him.

“I mean, you can call me (y/n), if that’s what you want,” you offered, slightly blushing. He blushed back.

“Oh! Ok, then (y/n) it is.”

“So how about that dance, Boy Wonder?”

“I guess one more dance wouldn’t kill me.”

Robin led you towards the middle of the dance floor. You put your arms around his neck and he put his arms around your waist. His hands were gentle, and was only lightly touching your back, as if he was ready to pull them back at any time.

But he was smiling; something he barely did all night. You both laughed as you awkwardly shuffled across the floor; it's like you had two right feet and he had two left feet so it canceled out. You pulled in a little closer, he hugged you a little tighter. You stared at his masked eyes, imagining them looking back at you.

Suddenly you heard a whistle and whipped your head to see the rest of the Titans nonchalantly watching you two dance. They grinned, waving hello. You rolled your eyes and whipped your hand at them. A small geyser jumped up and landed on the Titans, drenching them. You and Robin laughed, then resumed your dance.

Nights in Jump City are the worst time of day, but with Robin, it’s a whole lot better.

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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Tangled Training//Kirishima

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY!!!

Second part of my Teacher's Pet Series! Summary: Known as the Number 1 ranked Boxer: Red Riot. An injury caused him to chuck his career in, but his bright spirit wasn’t dimmed. Instead, he decided to teach sport study, allowing him to share his passion with the younger generation, thus helping them to a bright future. When you signed up for the boxing course you didn’t expect to see your professor and certainly didn’t plan on fucking him in his gym, but fate works in funny ways. Words:3.9k+

TW:nsfw: mention of an unhappy relationship, praising, riding, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, spitting, bitting, spanking, scratching, him calling you sweet nicknames while having sex (princess, baby, good girl,)

„Miss Y/L/N! Never knew you were into boxing! Happy to see you here, nice form,“ it was no other than your teacher, clad in a white tank top and loose black and red shorts, a pearly smile beaming at you. „Professor! I didn’t expect to see you here,“ you greeted the tall man standing next to the ring, making you taller by a few inches. „Well, it is my gym,“ Kirishima said, throwing the towel he was holding over his shoulder. „It is? When I signed up your name wasn’t mentioned at all,“ how embarrassing. Did you really miss his name when you looked into the gym? „That’s on purpose. I really appreciate my fans, but this is meant to be a safe space, and having it crowded with strangers wouldn’t really adherence that,“ he explained with a smile and stepped into the ring, the high difference now even more noticeable than before.

His black hair was pulled back into a low bun, a few strands slipping out of it and framing his handsome face. A healed cut went down from his brow to below his eye adding to his studly appearance, not to mention his trained arms that were on full display. „How long have you been here already? It can’t be for long, I would have definitely noticed you,“ he took the coaching cushion from the woman you had been training with, fixing them around his hands and turning back to you. „This is only my third lesson, I’m barely at the beginning,“ you told him, a nervous feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. „Mina is one of my best teachers! You’re in good hands with her, but in even better ones with me."

From that moment on you trained with him every other week. As much as the two of you tried to keep the relationship strictly as student and teacher in both ways, the more you saw him the harder it got. You noticed how you slowly started comparing your boyfriend to him, how Kirishima did certain things and he didn’t. Like how your professor would always open doors for you, make sure you’re home safe. He remembered important appointments and ask you how they went, never belittled or made fun of your problems or worries. When you told him your favorite show or book or song he would always look into it because he knew it would mean a lot to you and it would allow him to get to know you even more.

At first, he didn’t even realize what he was doing. While he thought about cutting your relationship, whatever weird state it was in right now, he also thought about how much he enjoyed spending time with you. How much he could potentially hurt you. And the sting in his heart wouldn’t allow that, even if he knew it would have been the better choice. As far as he knew you had a partner, so nothing could go wrong, right?

The day everything changed was no other day than your birthday. Your boyfriend had promised at least five times that he will spend the night with you, party into it, give you your first gift and wake you up with an amazing breakfast. But when the clock turned midnight there was no sight of him, no text, no call, nothing. In the beginning, you thought he might prank you, surprise you and act like it was all a stupid joke. You wouldn’t be a big fan of it but it would be better than him not being there at all. Your phone rang, once, twice. Your best friend had texted you a sweet message, telling you they can’t wait to celebrate and see you soon, the other text was someone from your family telling you the same. At 12:12 a.m. your phone rang yet again because of another text message.

„Hey Y/N! Happy birthday my little boxing champ. I’m proud of how far you have gotten and can’t wait to see how far you’ll come. Just know that I believe in you and if anything happens, you can always count on me! See you soon, hope you get celebrated the way you deserve it.

-Eijro“

You didn’t know what to say, overwhelmed with the current situation. There was no way you could deny the butterflies setting off in your stomach as you read through the simple, yet sweet message. You weren’t meant to feel that way for another person while dating your partner. You especially weren’t meant to be so feel that way for your professor out of all people.

When the clock read 01:10 a.m. you heard a knock on your door. Opening it your eyes fell upon your apologetically looking boyfriend, with a cake and small bouquet.

„Hey babe, I’m sorry for being so late, but I’m here now. I got you your favorite cake and another surprise coming soon,“ he kissed you shortly before walking into your kitchen to put everything down. „Happy Birthday!“ He engulfed you in a tight hug and planted another kiss on your lips, before walking back to unbox the cake. „Thank you,“ you said while watching him cut into it. When you saw the inside you felt disappointment forming in your stomach. „Is that (add flavor you don’t like) cake?“ You asked, hoping it simply looked similar. „Yeah why?“ You couldn’t help but pick up his slightly pissed tone „Oh… It’s just… Never mind, thank you,“ you had definitely dated long enough for him to know what you liked and what not and you remembered clear as day that you had talked to him about this because it was his brother’s wedding and he told you to stop being picky about it. „No. What did I do wrong now? “ he said while rolling his eyes.

And that was the start of a two-hour-long fight, ending in you calling it quits after finding the receipt of the 7/11 around the corner, telling you he brought your presents ten minutes before arriving at your place.

There was no way you could go to bed now, angry tears streaming down your face as you took your phone in your hand, texting the only person you wanted to talk to right now. Not even a minute after you send the text your phone rang. „What’s wrong?“ Was the first thing he asked, voice deeper than usual. „I’m sorry, did I wake you up?“ You could hear him shift at the other end of the line like he was getting out of bed. „That doesn’t matter. Why are you crying?“ You had never heard him so concerned and you felt bad for being the cause of it. „I fought with my bo- My ex and I’m angry and hurt and I don’t know,“ you felt another set of tears ready to roll down and a shaky breath cut the short silence between the two of you. „I’ll be there in 15 minutes, don’t come downstairs before I text you,“ you couldn’t answer anymore. He had ended the call and you starred at your phone dumbfounded.

Before Eijiro’s text arrived you had changed into something other than your pajamas and washed your face to look slightly less like you had just cried your eyes out.

When you saw him standing there in front of his big jeep, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and black hoodie you couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him, feeling his strong arms wrap you in a tight hug after being caught off guard for a second.

„Thank you for coming by,“ you mumbled into his chest, slightly disappointed when pulled away. „Of course, anytime. What would you like do to?“ Kirishima asked, opening the passenger door for you. „Like punching a motherfucker,“ Your eyes fell upon a small box and he picked it up. „You said you really liked this cake, so I thought I get it for you. It’s nothing much,“ the warm smile he gave you was the best gift you had received so far. „But the bakery is on the other side of town, thank you so much!“ to say you couldn’t believe he would do such a thing was understandable, but then again so was getting up for your student at almost four in the morning. „No biggie, really,“ once you were seated he took off, driving to the place you grew so familiar with.

„You can let it all out, punch as hard as you can,“ he told you as the two of you stood inside the boxing ring, his hair tied up again. And you did, you punched over and over again, imagining his face on the red cushions. „I can’t believe I ever thought about a future together with that prick!“ You said in between punches. „What was the fight about anyway?“ It was your birthday and to know it started like that made him sad.

„You won't believe it! Not only did he get the wrong cake and withering flowers after FOUR years of dating, no, he was two hours too late than he promised me. Do you think he called or at least send me a text to let me know he might be too late? Of course, he didn’t. That’s not even the worst part! Do you know why he was too late? Because his ex Stella needed help with her fucking car! He ditched me on my birthday for his ex and about half an hour before getting to my place he remember that he had no present for me. At one point I was so angry because he said a birthday is like every other day and I shouldn’t be mad that he almost forgot. I told him that even you, my professor, remembered my birthday and congratulated me sooner than he did. He said if you were so much better than he was I should just go and fuck you instead and I said: You know what, I might and it would be the best night of my life! Then he called me a whore and I told him I would rather be that than his girlfriend, so I broke up with him,“ you rambled, noticing too late that he had his hands down.

The sudden impact and his improper stand lead to him stumbling and falling back. Worry was written across your face as you kneeled between his spread legs. „I’m so, so sorry, I was rambling and didn’t pay attention, are you okay?“ You were on eye level with him now while you lift his hoodie to look at his rip, apologizing yet again when you saw the red spot. The black-haired man stared at you, half in awe, half in lust. „Don’t worry, I’m okay, I was just caught off guard,“ he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to look up only to find his eyes on you already. „Why did you take your hands down?“ You unwrapped your other hand from the glove, applying pressure to the spot to make sure everything was good. „I just… I was surprised, that’s all,“ „Surprised? Why? Did I do something wrong?“ Your eyes flickered from left to right, breath hitching in your throat as his big hand went to your cheek, his thumb stroking it softly. „You said you might fuck me,“ he chuckled, nose tips now touching „Professor, I’m so sor-,“ before you could say something else his soft, plump lips were on yours, moving in perfect sync.

Every worry, every thought, every doubt vanished within seconds as he pulled your body closer to his. Your top didn’t stop his hand from slipping onto the small of your back and the moment his bare skin was on yours it felt like small electric shocks went through your lower region. A low groan vibrated against your lips as you ground your hips against his, feeling him harden beneath you, his breath was now slightly unsteady.

It could have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care to check, before he broke the kiss, pulling the hoodie over his head after you tugged on it, smiling when he saw the way you looked at him. Not the boxing champion, not the rich man, you wanted him.

Pulling your top over your head before he flipped you over with his arm around your waist and his thigh between your legs allowed him to tease you in all the right places.

Kirishima didn’t hide the pleasure he felt hearing you whine underneath him while he got you rilled up, kissing your body and leaving behind an obvious mark on your chest. You had never noticed how sharp they actually are until they bit down onto your delicate skin, his hands creepy down your stomach into your pants. He wasn’t going to touch you just yet, but the feeling of his middle finger over your slowly damping underwear, ghosting over your clit, close enough to set off soft tingles but never touching you where you most wanted it.

„You look so beautiful,“ he told you, before his lips met yours again, swallowing your soft moans. „Please I need you,“ you were going to buck your hips up in hopes he would touch you but he had you in full control, keeping your hips in place while he dragged his fingers painfully slow over your clit. „Tsk, tsk, tsk, someone is impatient,“ the older man kneeled in front of you, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your pants and pulled them down.

His eyes fell upon the wet spot between your legs and he couldn’t wait to be buried in between your thighs, feeling them shake around him while his name will fall from your rosy lips. „Be a good girl for me and sit on my face,“ his raspy voice whispered in your ears, biting down on your lobe softly. Sensing a moment of hesitation before he took your hand in his, pulling you up after kissing your knuckles.

„Gotta prep you before I fuck you, don’t want my princess to be in pain now, do we?“ Before you could tell him you were ready for him, needed him inside of you, needed him to stuff you full he took your hand in his, wrapping it around his length. The further you went up to his thick length, the more you realized that you were, in fact, absolutely not ready for him. „Told you so,“ his chuckle was cut short when your thumb circled around his sensitive head, but your deviant attitude was cut short when he grabbed you and put you in place. Now you kneeled on top of him and red eyes looked up to you through thick, dark lashes „Don’t think for one moment that you are in control, I could throw you around like a rag doll,“ there was no doubt in your mind that he could and would and as much as you liked the sound of it right now you wanted nothing more but to feel pleasure.

Kirishima was taking his sweet time, worshiping your thighs with bites and kisses. Whenever he would switch from left to right he would make sure to blow cold air and kiss just below your for attention begging clit. Your squirming appears to only make him go longer until you broke.

„Please Eijiro, I can’t take it anymore,“ your voice was cracking, almost as if you were about to cry and maybe you were because he touched you everywhere but where you most needed it. „Keep being good for me and use your words,“ „Please eat me ou-“ as if that’s all he waited for he spits onto your pussy before attaching his lips around your clit, cutting you off with your own moan.

He gave you cunnilingus like a mad man, your wet cunt the only medicine for his sickness. Never would you have thought that it could feel so titillating to have a man between your legs. It was as if the only thought in his brain right now was your pleasure, nothing else, just the need to make you cum. His slick muscle would lap out every once in a while, dip into you to taste more of you, ere it reappeared where it started, flicking up and down, left and right, things you never even knew off. Your first orgasm came crashing down in less than five minutes, but he was nowhere near done with tongue fucking you. It was after your fourth orgasm that he stopped, only for a minute to bite your folds gently and look at the mess he created.

You were going to stand up, or at least raise yourself from his mouth to allow yourself to calm down from the immense pleasure seeping through your body leading to Kirishima tightening the grip around your legs.

„Just a little more princess, you can take it,“ another few kisses were planted on your inner thighs. „It’s so much,“ you breathed, your body still shaking. „I know, but it’s your birthday. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t fuck you properly, huh?“

And while the thought of overstimulating you so much you would cry and beg for him to stop sounded absolutely ravishing, he knew he had to wait a little longer. The last thing he wanted you to do was to cry on your birthday, again.

Only when he started tugging on his hair harshly did he realize how strong he was holding you down and he was sure there will be bruises the next day. By the way, you were moaning his name you didn’t mind though, so he raised his hands up slightly just to come back down with a loud smack. Another one. And another one. If he is going to die because you squeezed his head he would die doing what he loved. Eijiro could feel how close you were again and considering he was going to pound into you with as much of him as you could take a bit of stretching would be the second-best preparation.

One, then two fingers slipped inside you easily, your juices coating his fingers, clenching around them while he stretched you open as good as he could. Tilting over to the front when your fifth orgasm of the night hit you let him loosen his hold over you, pulling you into his lap once again.

„You did so well, I’m proud of you,“ soft strokes over your back helped you calm down, the stars in front of your eyes slowly disappearing „Had enough?“ He asked you, thumb going over the red spots he had left behind. „No please, I want more,“ to prove your point you went back on your knees and kissing him deeply. His tongue in your mouth allowed you to taste yourself on him whilst your hand pulled his thick cock from his sweatpants. Pre-cum made the angry, redhead glister in the soft light falling from the hanging lamp above you.

Pushing against him slightly signaled him to lay down and he did, watching you as your upper body rose up. You looked so beautiful on top of him, letting him see you in your full glory and he wished this moment would last forever so he won’t miss a single detail about you. Your eyes were fixated on his meat that was between your hands and in a way you looked love drunk, just only for his dick.

Positioning yourself over him, your hands guiding his tip along your folds. He kept you steady by holding your waist because your legs were still weak while pushing yourself down, feeling every inch entering your throbbing cunt.

„There you go princess, just like that,“ it took everything inside of him to buckle up and push the rest into you, but he knew he can’t do that for the first time between the two of you.

Halting for a few seconds when you had him balls deep in you allowed you to take a shaky breath. It felt like his dick specially designed just for you, his length hitting all the right spots, his thickness filling you up in the best way possible.

„Everything okay?“ Kiri asked, drawing circles on your hips. „Yeah, you’re just so big,“ the moment you started riding him, moans slipping out of your mouth with no break in between was the moment he lost himself.

Pulling you down to him, both hands across your back, and in the very second putting his feet to the ground allowed him to push into you over and over again with his full length. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans and screams, provocations and his name echoed from the walls. It only fueled him more.

Nails dug into his flesh, leaving marks all over his body in an attempt to not lose yourself completely while waves of pleasure crashed through you.

„You’re doing so good baby, I’m proud of you. Taking me so well,“ every once in a while he would moan as well, the feeling you clench around him, close to your next orgasm. Delivering a smack to your ass sent you over the edge, having you dig your nails even deeper, leading to him going harder. Kirishima could feel himself getting closer to his own release as well, but he wanted you to come one more time.

„Look at me, I want you to look in my eyes while you cum,“ you turned your face to the side, noses touching. You couldn't look straight anymore, eyes droopy as puffy, spit-covered lips fell open as yet another moan slipped past them. „You like this don’t you? Of course, you do,“ he grunted, spanking you again. Angling his thrusts slightly different made you almost blackout as he hit a certain spot over and over again. „One more okay? I know you can take it“ A feeling you had never felt before started forming in the pit of your stomach as stars blurred your vision almost completely.

Your scream was swallowed by his lips on yours, his hips snapping up every second, chasing his own orgasm. And when he saw you laying on top of him with a light film of sweat, eyes slightly watery, mouth agape, and messy hair he came painting your insides white. Sloppy strokes stopped and you could feel his lips on your forehead, then your lips. They weren’t as lustful anymore, not as harsh and demanding, rather soft and sweet as if you were a delicate flower. Such a contrast within nothing more but a minute.

„You did amazing,“ he whispered, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. „How about I carry you upstairs, hm? Shower and eat some of the cake as breakfast?“ All you could do was nod your head, feeling his strong arms underneath you to pick you up. „I was right,“ you mumbled with your head on his shoulder. A red door swung open, revealing a small hallway and lift to put a code in. Waiting for the elevator to open he looked down at you, asking what you were right about. „This was the best night I ever had,“ a small, exhausted smile made its way to your face. „If you’re not too bruised in the morning just wait till round two,“ he mumbled against your forehead, feeling your arms tighten around his neck.

©Kirishoshego//do not repost on any platform

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oniku-niku · 3 years

Text

Headcannon} Shoto Playing With Your Hair

It was a long day being the pro-hero Shoto.

With handling crime all over the city

And signing autographs for fans who see him on the street

And dealing with his agency yelling at him for doing some damages to a few properties around the crime areas

He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was go home

To see you

The beautiful you

It was rare for Shoto Todoroki to miss someone in his life

But then he happened to stumble upon you several years ago

And since then he finds himself missing you every day the moment he leaves for work

He thinks of being at home and enjoying a dinner with you while he’s apprehending a criminal on the street

He thinks of you every time something at a store catches his eyes

He sees you and him in every couple that he notices on the street

Wishing that he was on a date with you instead of beating up some criminal who thought they could take him in a fight

So yeah, Shoto Todoroki is such a clingy boyfriend

And he himself knew that

But he doesn’t care

The moment he walked through the door to your apartment

He was calling out your name

Meeting you in the kitchen

His arms wrapped themselves around your waist

And he nuzzled his face in the nape of your neck

Mumbling out a “Hi, my love…” into your skin

Your left hand flew up to give him a gentle ruffle of his hair before asking him to set the table for dinner

Though the conversation tonight was at a minimum

You were tired

He was tired

And there was nothing more comforting than to get in bed and just doze off

So, after doing the dishes and getting changed into comforting clothes

The two of you head off to bed

Leaving the showering for tomorrow morning

You burrowed yourself into his left side

The warmth from his quirk easily settling you into a slumber

His arm was wrapped over your shoulders as he laid back, giving your forehead a peck

He couldn’t help but let his rough, gentle fingers run through your hair

Nails coming down tenderly on your scalp for a light massage

Smiling when he heard you purr in your sleep with delight

He then pulled his hand back

Allowing locks of your hair to weave through his digits as he watched them fall back into its routine

“So soft…” he hummed in his head

Fingers pinching together a small group of the strands before his index finger wrung them into a loose twist

And as quickly as he did that

He let it go again

His eyes admired the way your hair was able to retain its original form

All throughout the night, in order to lull himself to sleep

He kept twirling his fingers through strands of your hair

And he eventually did fall asleep

With his left hand still in tact with the locks of hair that he had twisted around his finger

When the two of you woke up the first thing you notice when you got up was the tugging of that one lock of hair

The movement woke Shoto up as well and he watched as the hair fell from his fingers

You gave him a quick kiss before moving to the bathroom to freshen up

When glancing into the mirror, you burst out into giggles before calling for him to come in

His eyes widened when he stepped through the bathroom door frame to look at you

There were parts of your hair that stayed curled from his attention last night

But the one that was the most curled was the one that was kept wrapped around his finger all night

The heat from his hand pressed it into a curl

“For what it’s worth. You look adorable.” he tried to excuse with a smile

“You’re lucky I work from home because not even a shower can fix it before then.” you booped his nose before the two of you started your morning

And that was that

Shoto loves you so much

The moment he stepped out the front door for work

His entire mood changed back into the quiet, stoic Shoto that everyone else knew

But every time he set off

He reminds himself that he has you to look forward to at the end of every day

A/N} This is my first headcannon ever so I apologize if it’s not done well. And also I’m sorry Anon for getting back to you like a week late. Thanks for reading, your love is appreciated <3

[Blog Master List]

#shoto torodoki #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki headcanons #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki fluff #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #bnha todoroki #bnha headcanons #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha x you

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years

Text

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 1

Author’s Note: Had this idea living in my head rent free so hopefully I don’t butcher it.

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

Part 1 , Part 2

“So, where are we going again?” Bucky asked Sam, confusion written on his face as he leaned back in the front passenger seat of the car.

“You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.” Sam answered, his eyes glued to the road and hands gripping the wheel.

“But we’ve been driving in the middle of nowhere for an hour now.” Bucky fussed while staring at the never ending green grass that passed by, clearly irritated with Sam’s lack of details.

“I too would like to know where we are going.” Zemo spoke up only to add to Sam’s annoyance.

“YOU don’t get to ask questions.” Sam glared at Zemo through the rear view mirror before staring back at the road. He was starting to get fed up with their questions and lack of patience.

The three men had been driving with their windows down for what felt like hours through the Scottish countryside, watching the green highlands pass by. Though they admired the beauty of the landscape, they were extremely anxious to stretch their legs and get to their unknown destination. Not to mention, they were starting to get a little hungry as well.

“Are we there yet?” Bucky broke the silence after some time.

“We get there when we get there.” Sam snapped, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel a bit too hard. He was really looking forward to getting out of the car and away from those two.

After a short while they neared a small seaside village. The place was not that busy, save for the few locals and fishermen going about the cloudy day.

Sam drove on a little further before finally reaching a quaint stone cottage that sat on a hill at the edge of town, overlooking the ocean. He pulled up next to the 60s convertible cream colored Volkswagen Beetle that had a surfboard tied on the roof, parked next to the cottage. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out, stretching his legs as the others followed suit.

Sam smiled to himself as he walked up the path leading to the front door and glanced upon the flower garden and the decorations out front. He knew for sure this was your place. The other two quietly followed behind while looking around the residence, from the neatly kept garden and the vines that crawled along the house, to the fishing equipment hung up on the side, down to the handmade birdhouses and the wind chimes and sun-catchers that clinked melodically against the ocean breeze, including the collection of garden gnomes. The place reminded the men something straight out of Jane Austen’s novels, not that they’d like to admit they knew such a thing.

Sam stopped at the front door before turning to the others with a pointed finger. “Now whatever you do, don’t stare.”

“Wait what?” Bucky scrunched his nose.

“Just don’t.”

Sam paused for a moment, thinking of how to explain this situation to you before tapping on the wooden door. No answer. Sam could feel Bucky glaring at the back of his head, ready to scold him about how this was a big waste of time. So he knocked again, this time calling out if any one was home.

Before Bucky could open his mouth there was rustling coming from inside and the sound of someone knocking into furniture before a faint “ow” and “fuck” of a woman’s voice made Bucky and Zemo glance questioningly at each other. Where the hell did Sam lead them to?

The locks on the door were fumbled with before opening up to reveal your head poking out from behind.

“Sam?” You breathed out. You were slightly out of breath and your hair was disheveled with strands falling out of your bun at the front from under your silk scarf. The sleeves of your button up blouse were rolled up at your elbows, revealing your dirt covered arms. You were working on your vegetable garden in the back before you were interrupted by your unexpected visitors.

Bucky stood behind Sam and couldn’t help but widen his eyes when he saw you. He only met you a few times during the threat of Thanos and before, but the interactions he had with you were very brief. All he knew was that you were a good friend of the Avengers, especially Thor, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Tony and Steve and now apparently Sam. But after Thanos was defeated you disappeared and nothing was heard of you since.

Zemo glanced out from behind Bucky and tried to remain hidden behind the super soldier once he recognized your face. You weren’t exactly an Avenger and you weren’t on Earth when he tore the Avengers apart, you were helping Thor at the time and little to everyone’s knowledge, you were also defending your planet against an inside threat. But you had heard of him through your friends, and though you hadn’t met him, Zemo knew you would strangle him once you spotted him.

“Hey y/n.” Sam smiled at you, calling you by your alias name. He knew who you were through Steve, but even then, he didn’t know everything about you and about the recent events that took place in your home planet that still devastated you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, wiping your hands on your apron. There was a reason you chose to live all the way out here, and though you gave Sam your new address, you didn’t expect him to bring company.

“I came to see how you were doing?”

“Bullshit.” You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you wanted to check up on me you wouldn’t have brought someone.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but decided against it, refused to meet your stern eyes and looking down at the ground instead with his hands in his pockets. He often forgot how well you were able to read people, almost as if you were telepathic. Little to his knowing, you were in fact a telepath but decided against telling him. You’ve known people who became uncomfortable when finding that detail about you and noticed how they tried to avoid you, constantly guarding their thoughts when around. If only they knew you never bothered to do such a thing because you respected their privacy and because you’ve seen things in people’s heads you wished to forget. You’ve only ever used your telepathy when it was absolutely necessary. Straightening up, you finally took a better look at the other man behind him and instantly recognized him as Bucky.

“Barnes?”

“Hi y/n.” Bucky smiled shyly at you as he looked into your eyes. And that’s when he noticed for the first time that your eyes were different from when he last saw you. Your irises were now a shade of purples and blues with flecks of gold that spread out, a reflection of the stars and the universe. So that’s what Sam meant when he said to not stare. But could you have just been wearing contacts? Bucky’s stare was cut short as Sam noticed, glaring at him and clearing his throat before elbowing him in the stomach.

Suddenly, there came the sound of a little girls squeals coming from inside your home, startling the men except for Sam. And before they knew it, a small girl in overalls who looked to be of 6 years of age sprinted through your legs and out the door. “Uncle Sam!”

“Oof! Athena wait!” You gasped against the impact as you tried to reach for her.

“Hey hey little Athena!” Sam smiled as he picked the excited girl up into his arms before setting her on his hip. “How’s my favorite little warrior?”

“I’m helping Mommy with the garden! See!” She squealed in delight before showing off her dirty hands.

“I can see that.” Sam chuckled. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“God, I’m so sorry Sam. She’s covered in dirt.” You tried to apologize with an embarrassed face.

“Hey no worries.” Sam smiled at you. “Some dirt is not gonna kill me.”

“Mommy who’s this?” Athena questioned as she looked at the man next to Sam.

You looked at Bucky and gave him a look that questioned what name he would prefer, to which he nodded and mouthed Bucky to you.

“That’s Bucky sweetie.”

“Hi Bucky! I’m Athena!” She stuck her tiny hand out to for him to shake, a big grin plastered on her face from meeting new people.

“It’s very nice to meet you Athena.” Bucky smiled as he gently shook her hand, making her giggle.

The scene made you smile to yourself as you pushed a strand of your hair behind your ears. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Sam and Bucky decided to pay a visit.

“Mommy who’s the man in the back?”

The man in the back? You looked to Sam and James with a raised brow before craning your neck to see who the third guest could be, only to tense up and clutch the door frame, forcing yourself to not go over there right now and throw him off a cliff.

“What the hell is he doing here?” You glared daggers at Zemo as he watched you with caution, before you turned to Sam.

“I can explain.” Sam tightened his jaw as he saw your expression.

“Athena, sweetie.” You turned to your daughter with a gentle smile. “I want you to go up to your room and clean up okay?”

“Okay mommy.” Athena looked back at you with a worried look as Sam set her down.

You caressed her head as she walked in, watching her go up the stairs and waiting for the sound of her bedroom door to close and her shower to turn on before shutting the front door behind you.

“Are you out of your goddamn minds?” You glared at the two, trying to not yell, your fists balling up in anger. “What in the three hells is going on?”

“Look y/n. He might be of some use.” Sam tried to explain.

“So you broke him out of prison?!”

“Well technically he got himself out.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to think that this wasn’t such a good idea and felt guilty for coming here.

“Oh? So what? He magically decides to join your little boy band? The Wakandans are after his ass in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Look I get it. Working with Zemo sounds like a terrible idea and you have every right to be upset. We just need a place to lay low for now. Just...hear us out.” Sam responded with a pleading look.

You stood there with a hand on your hip, squeezing your eyes shut while you pinched the bridge of your nose, not even caring that you still had dirt on your hands.

“Please y/n.” Bucky spoke up, making you look up at him. “Sam wouldn’t come here if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

You looked between the two, rubbing your chin in contemplation as you thought everything over. Bucky was right. Sam would never try to purposely put you in harm’s way.

“Fine.” You breathed out. “You can stay for the night. But you are going to tell me everything. Every last detail.”

“I promise.” Sam looked to you as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Well come on then. Get in.” You nodded your head towards the door as you opened it, letting Bucky and Sam in before putting yourself in front of Zemo and blocking him with a threatening look while speaking in a cold tone. “I swear to the gods, if you so much as try anything, I will bury you alive in my backyard and use you as fertilizer to grow fungi.”

“Y/n what the fuck.” You heard Sam utter from inside.

Zemo gave you a bewildered look and decided to keep quiet as you stepped aside to let him in, watching him closely as he went in. You stuck your head outside again, looking around for any bystanders and making sure the men were preoccupied before muttering something in Ancient Greek, waving your hand around and moving your fingers in specific gestures as a clear glass like film covered the area around your home for protection. You did another once over before going back in and closing the front door, readying yourself for the conversation you would have with Sam and Bucky.

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Hi, may I request headcanons or drabble about gom when they find that their s/o is wearing their teiko’s jersey please? Sfw or nsfw is all okay

A/N: OOH I like that idea my dear anon! I tried to come up with as many different scenarios as I could, so I hope that I was succeesful... please enjoy! (*¯︶¯*)

Tags: GoM x reader ✅ fluff ✅ implied nsfw ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

ok so, you were sleeping over at his house today and you wanted to put something of his on, so you looked through his closet, and amidst his many shirts you found something you immediately recognized as his former basketball team’s jersey

you were simply curious how it would look on you so while Kuroko was in the other room preparing something, you went over to the big mirror in the hallway and looked at how surprisingly fitting his jersey was

“(Y/N), I finished prepa-“

“Tetsu, perfect timing! Look what I found!” you said happily and twirled around a few times, showing off your new find

he remained silent at first and just looked at you with his typical poker face, then he slowly walked up to you and gave you a back hug, burying his face in the crack of your neck

“God (Y/N)...how can you be so cute...?“ he silently asked and peppered your neck with soft kisses

you couldn’t help but giggle at that ticklish sensation which provided a great diversion for your boyfriend, who let his hands slowly slide down your body’s most prominent traits while his blue eyes stayed glued to how smooth your reflection looked like

his reaction was pretty cryptic and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was even happy or simply annoyed, so you asked him if you’d done something bad

Kuroko remained silent at first and then out of nowhere took your hand and began walking back to his own room

“T-Tetsu? What’s wrong?”

“In situations such as these it’s better for me to just show you the results of your little dress up instead of using words, don’t you think?”

with flushed cheeks you simply squeezed his hand and followed him back into his room, knowing that you’ll be in there for quite a while...

Kise:

you two went on a small shopping trip together and before you knew it time had slipped past your hands and it was already dark outside

Kise, as the caring boyfriend he is, invited you to stay over at his apartment and you agreed

while you were sitting on his bed and checking your social media he sorted out his closet saying that if he continued buying so many clothes he’d have to buy a second and much bigger one

when he usually did this, he separated his garments into two piles: one was clothes he’d give away to charity organizations and the other one was for you and his friends to choose out of

just as he was about to throw another one of his shirts you noticed a very familiar-looking piece of fabric

He must be quite out of it to throw this away...

you secretly took his jersey out of the pile, got up from his bed, and sneaked out of his room (which wasn’t a challenge really, with him being overly concentrated on whether to give that blue jacket away or the black one)

you headed straight for his bathroom and changed into his Teiko jersey

it fitted you quite well, sure it was loose at some parts but that was to be expected

after looking at yourself in the mirror from any possible angle you decided to go back and surprise him with your getup

“Kise, I think I might’ve found the perfect one for me...what do you think?”

he glanced back at you and just as he was about to turn away he halted, mouth agape, his expression a mix of pleasant surprise and full of adoration

within a couple of seconds, his arms were wrapped around your body, lifting you by the hips and covering your entire face with kisses

“I didn’t know you loved your jersey this much.” you joked as you played with his yellow and soft strands of hair

“Who said I was this happy just because of the jersey, huh?”

he twirled the both of you a few times before lying you down on his bed and getting on top of you, both of his arms trapping you beneath him as he brought his face down to your exposed collarbone and began trailing it up with his soft lips

“Though I’d love to continue watching you have it on, it’d be quite a shame if we got it dirty with what’s about to come, right?”

Midorima:

living together with a strict man such as him proved to be quite the challenge at times, but you somehow managed

he was a very tidy and clean person (his behavior almost bordered in perfectionism) so having a multi-shelved closet where his clothes were sorted by color, their individual usage as well as his personal preference wasn’t surprising

you once wanted to take a shirt from him and after begging him for what felt like hours he finally gave in, but under the condition that he’d get to choose one for you

so to put it simply: you never properly saw how his closet looked like from the inside and now that he was taking a shower you couldn’t withstand the temptation to sneak into his room and finally take a peek

thanks to his pedantic ways you were quick to grasp the structure he’d used and there was one particular pile of clothes that caught your eye, namely one which consisted of nothing but his basketball uniforms, all of them neatly folded and judging by the smell they were freshly washed as well

you smiled to yourself as you remembered that your typical tsundere boyfriend also had some softer sides on him that brought such rare but heartwarming behaviors to light

with utmost carefulness you took the very first jersey from the pile and held it up, revealing the dark blue number 11

looking at it now you wondered if it’d still fit him and just before you stormed out of the room to ask him, you thought of a better idea: putting it on yourself

with that said and done you sneaked back out, sat on the couch in the living room, covered yourself with a blanket, and pretended to play something on your phone while you carefully watched your boyfriend from the corner of your eyes

the moment he entered your shared bedroom you decided to wait a couple minutes until he’d dressed up so that you could surprise him with a hug (but the main reason was that you were scared of how he’d react if you not only snuck up on him while he’s still drenched and naked but also had a jersey on that he’d spend so much time taking care of)

you softly knocked on the door and heard a muffled sound that most likely prompted you to come in, so you did

luckily his broad back was facing you as he was busy cleaning his glasses and you used that opportunity to wrap your arms around his tall figure

there was no reaction at first but after just a couple of seconds he silently asked you whether something was wrong

“I have a small surprise for you, so could you do me the favor and...look at me?” you whispered in a rather sheepish voice

Midorima didn’t answer, but you heard him placing his glasses down on the nightstand so you took that as a signal and loosened your grip around him

“(Y/N)...! That–“

your small surprise had shocked him quite a bit and even if he didn’t say anything clear about it, it was pretty obvious that underneath his big palm, which was covering his mouth, a small blush was forming

the two of you just stood there silently and after what felt like an eternity he just sighed and sat himself down on the bed, burying his face in his hands

Now that’s a reaction I didn’t expect...

you were disappointed and sad of course so you muttered a silent apology and made your way back to the door

“(Y/N)...who said that you could leave?”

with a surprised but confused expression on your face, you looked at his sitting figure

Midorima leaned himself back and gently pat a spot on his muscled thigh

“I want you to strip for me...but make sure to keep my jersey on and when you’re finished, get your cute ass over here.”

Aomine:

you woke up rather unpleasantly

your entire body was sore, some spots hurting more than others, and to top it all off you had fallen asleep naked, too tired from last night’s fun to even cover yourself with a shirt or something of that sort

while you were questioning yesterday’s events your boyfriend continued sleeping peacefully next to you and sometimes a silent snore escaped past his lips

watching someone who was either sulking or grinning like a madman on a daily basis sleep like a small child warmed your heart

you gently caressed his cheek, moved some of his hair strands away from his forehead, and let your fingertip gently glide across his most prominent facial features

if Aomine was awake he’d rarely let you do all of these blandishments, but luckily he slept as deep as a bear during hibernation

you could’ve continued forever, but your body was starting to get cold so you got up as carefully as you could and tiptoed over to your boyfriend's closet and began rummaging around for one of his shirts, which easily covered half of your body

while you searched every possible corner of his rather messy closet you stumbled upon something rather surprising

at the very back, you found his Teiko jersey which in comparison to the rest neatly folded and smelled of detergent

you couldn’t hold back a cheeky grin as you remembered how he’d told you he wasn’t the sentimental type of person and that there would be no reason for him to own any keepsakes from his junior high days and yet despite all that he’d taken such good care of it

just as you were about to put it back in, a brilliant idea crossed your mind

you put his jersey on and walked towards his sleeping figure, moved the blanket aside, and then got on top of him, carefully lying on top of his upper body

the sudden weight on his chest disrupted his peaceful sleep and in accordance with that a low groan resonated from him

“Mm babe....what’s wrong..?”

“Good morning Aomine my love...care to open your eyes for me, I got a small surprise prepared for you.”

he grunted as he wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you further towards him, and whispered: “Just give me five more minutes and I’ll look....promise”

you pouted but refused to give up nonetheless and continued with your caresses from earlier, though this time you also planted soft kisses along his collarbone and his neck

he enjoyed it at first and even hummed in satisfaction, but as your lips trailed down lower, his abdomen tensed up, and even if he wanted to keep his eyes closed his curiosity failed him rather quick

just as you were about to continue you felt his hands take a tight hold of your hips so you looked up to him and were met with a pair of wide deep ocean blue eyes

a mischievous grin spread across your lips as you showed him your little surprise

“Look what I found, mister I’m-not-a-sentimental-type-of-person.”

and he did look, Aomine was in fact so flabbergasted that his mouth stood agape for quite a while, but no sound whatsoever came from him

“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d like a surprise of this caliber? Don’t all of your pinup girls have that boyfriend shirt segment?”

just as you were about to get off of him he suddenly took a hold of your shoulders and within a matter of seconds flipped the position the two of you were in

you now found yourself under him, exposed to his cheeky grin and a rather lewd gaze that caused him to lick his lips with relish while he let his hands run down your entire body

“You just know how to rail me up don’t you babe?” he cooed as he slowly pushed his knee between your legs, “sleep’s overrated when I have someone as perfect as you waking me up like this, right?”

Aomine kissed your lips and smiled down at you “Now...be a good girl and let me thank you properly”

Murasakibara:

wearing something out of this purple-haired giant’s closet was never an option for you, the main reason being the obvious body build difference between the two of you and the second was because of Murasakibara himself

every time you went over to his apartment and wanted to stay overnight he’d cling to you saying how warm and fluffy you were and continuously refused to let you go

the first few times you had tried to wiggle out of his grasp but unfortunately, he was the stronger out of the two of you so with no other choice left you remained enveloped in his arms until sleep caught up to you

as time went on you steadily gave up the fight and simply let him do what he wanted

and then one faithful night Lady Luck seemed to be on your side since Murasakibara fell asleep before you, the poor soul must’ve been quite tired that even his usual iron grip around you loosened quite a bit

at first, you couldn’t help but smile at his vulnerable yet cute expression but after just a short while your mind truly grasped the possibilities that had opened up to you

with a small smile, you carefully got up and walked over to his room

you silently closed the door behind you and couldn’t help but chuckle at the slightly ridiculous situation you found yourself in, regardless you continued with your task and opened his closet for the first time ever

it was surprisingly empty and clean (with some minor exceptions, but that was to be expected) so you found yourself questioning just why your boyfriend was trying to hide his small collection of clothes from you so desperately

at first, you simply looked through his differently sized shirts, and just then you saw a bright blue one and wondered why you had never seen him wear it

after pulling it out you finally realized just what you were holding

His Teiko jersey...?

you were quite surprised, to say the least since Murasakibara good to never talked about his junior high days let alone even mention them

he had a mirror right next to his closet so you stood in front of it and placed the jersey in front of yourself

it was quite large for your own measurements, but luckily his former build hadn’t been as muscular and tall as that of right now, so you seriously contemplated on putting it on

you removed the shirt you were wearing and replaced it with his jersey

the fabric reached the middle of your thighs and its v-neck was so low that you could see some of your cleavage

your cheeks reddened at the sight, your embarrassment prompting you to remove it as fast as possible, and just as you were about to do it a low and drowsy voice called out to you

“(Y/N)-chin...? What are you doing?”

as you turned around to the source of the voice, you looked directly into the purple eyes of your giant boyfriend who was towering in front of his bedroom’s doorframe

“A-Atsushi! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to-“ you stuttered as you tried to remove his shirt, but before you could even lift it his big hand took a grasp of your own and held it

“Don’t.”

that was all he said before pulling you into his broad chest and embracing you

he began kissing your neck and even after you reluctantly asked him what was wrong and if he’d been mad all he did was remain silent

after a while you felt his big and slightly rough hands wander underneath the jersey, exploring your naked skin and touching it carefully, afraid that you’d break if he got a little rougher

it felt good and you felt safe in his arms, but you didn’t mind if he didn’t hold back entirely

when you told him these exact words he immediately picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips

“Atsushi, w-wait!”

“Sorry (Y/N)-chin, but you look way too sweet right now and you know me...whenever I see something yummy I just need to have a taste.”

and with that, you were carried back to the couch for a long and pretty busy night...

Akashi:

the first time you mentioned Teiko he actually smiled and offered to show you some of his keepsakes himself

you agreed of course and just some moments afterward he brought a medium-sized box to you and began showcasing all objects he kept from his junior high days

Akashi really had his way with words, he knew that disclosing as little as he could about everything would make you more curious than you already were...and he was absolutely right

you asked him about the photos with his teammates, about some of his gold medals, about some of the books he’d kept, and so on

in the end, he pulled out his jersey, looking at it with a nostalgic expression, and as soon as he’d noticed your wide eyes and seemingly interested demeanor a smile spread across his lips as he handed the piece of fabric to you

while he told you some funny stories about it you couldn’t help but wonder whether it still fitted him or not

“Would you like me to put it on for you?” he asked you, which made you realize that you’d accidentally spoken out loud

“N-No it’s fine, I was just...thinking aloud that’s all!”

he giggled and gently caressed your blushing cheek, leaning closer to it so that he could plant a soft kiss on it, but unfortunately for you, the two of you were interrupted by one of his butlers who apparently needed something from his red-haired young master

neither you nor he could hide the obvious disappointment from your expressions, but with no choice left but to step out for a bit, your boyfriend left the room

you sat there at first but when you looked at the jersey that was halfway in the box you got curious about whether it could fit you, so after making sure that the coast was clear you changed your top and looked at your reflection on the glassy door of one of his shelves

surprisingly it fit you almost to a T and it was just now that you realized just how different the two of you were built

this new realization is what took you so long to notice that the man you were thinking about had returned and was looking at you

“And here I thought you wanted me to put it on...”

hearing his voice made you immediately freeze up, as you felt the heat rise to your face you slowly turned around and saw his gentle yet mischievous smile

“I-It’s not what it looks like, I just...I just wanted to–” you stammered while your fingers entangled themselves in the hem of his jersey

Akashi began to close the distance between the two of you and with each step he took your embarrassment grew and grew until it reached the point where you just wanted to sink in a hole somewhere

meanwhile, your boyfriend had reached you and let his hands gently glide along your torso with a never-ending smile

he directed his eyes to the reflection of your back, pulling you into his chest, and was now doing the same he did beforehand

his gentle touch relieved some tension from your shoulders and you couldn’t help but whisper his name, an action that made him tense up now

“(Y/N), I need you to remain quiet for a bit, or else I might lose that last bit of control I have” he hissed out as you felt his grip on you getting stronger

“I-It’s ok Sei, just let me remove your jersey and we can go to your roo–”

your chin was suddenly jerked upwards, red eyes peering directly into your own as he answered in a low voice: “Who said that we’ll do any of it? I’ve already locked the door and removing the jersey would ruin most of the fun, don’t you think?”

#knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb x reader #gom x reader #knb fluff #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #━𝙺𝙽𝙱

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

Sleepy Love Letters // f.w.

fred weasley x reader

requested: yes

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none, fluff

A/N: oh good lord. I am literally so behind on requests of all kinds. I guess i’ve just really needed a break. I am (obviously) writing again, but I am taking it much slower than I had been and it’s truly just because I get burnt out and tired so much faster lately. This fic is from my 1.1k sleepover (i believe) which was back in feb, but I still have stuff from my end of the year party from late dec / early jan. Basically, at this point I’m working through things as I get the time and motivation for it. It’ll all just be mixed in. If you’re waiting for a fic, headcanon, blurb, letter, etc. just keep your eyes out for it on my blog OR you can always check the events and their respective tags under my navigation to find it. I am either working on it or getting my way to it. I promise. Thank you, seriously, to every single one of you that have sent requests in for misc. events or when I had my requests open - it means the WORLD to me and I am going to get to it. I just need the time. Anyways, that’s enough of my heartfelt blubbering. I hope you guys like this fic! Xx

A/N 2: I’ve had this saved in my drafts for weeks now and I’ve been dying to post it. I’m not really sure why I haven’t yet, but here it is!! I hope you like it just as much as I do!

“Y/n, how do you think you did?!” Fred asks as he catches up with you walking out of the great hall after your charms exam.

“Good. Didn’t think it was too hard at least.” You reply, stifling a yawn.

Fred notices and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. The two of you have been friends for years and he knows you're exhausted even if you won’t admit it.

You’ve always spent hours upon hours studying for a test, often opting to stay up real late at night. He can’t even count how many times he and George have come back from detention or setting up a prank to find you passed out at one of the tables in the common room.

It only got worse when it was a final. Fred had found you not only passed out in the common room with a book open in front of you or on your lap, but he’d see you with a book shoved in your face as you ate or anytime you had some free time. He’d watch as you almost obsessively run through flash cards.

He adored how dedicated you were to getting good grades, but he often worried about what you were doing to yourself staying up way past the point of exhaustion or eating the bare minimum as you were too focused on the book in front of you. You weren’t taking care of yourself the way you should and it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m sure you did more than just good, sweetheart. You excited that it was the last one?”

“Thrilled. I can’t wait to be able to spend the summer going to the lake and camping. You and George have any plans?”

“Not many as of yet. I’m sure George is going to try to find any excuse to see Angelina.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement with the redhead. The two of you have only watched George and Angie dance the line between friends and dating for a year and a half now. They were closer than ever to being together, they just wouldn’t quite admit it to each other.

Walking into the common room you were glad to find it quiet. You’d hate to admit it out loud, but all you really wanted to do is go lay down and maybe sleep for a bit.

“Come hang out in my room?” Fred asked, nodding towards the stairs for the boys’ dorms.

He watches as a tired smile fills your face before you give him a small nod.

“Yeah, alright. You have any products you need testing?”

He chuckles, a loving smile on his face in response to your question. Even though you’re dragging your feet and look about ready to pass out, you’re still asking about him and his passion.

“Not today. Maybe later next week though. I just like your company.”

“I like yours, Fred.” You giggle, following him up the stairs.

“Well obviously, princess. Who doesn’t love having me in their company?” He chuckles, opening the door to his dorm.

“Good Godric,” you roll your eyes. “I think you need to check that ego of yours.”

“You love my big ego though, yeah?”

You shake your head as a smile finds its place on your face. You can’t help but let out a yawn as you take a seat on his bed while he sits down at the desk, watching you get comfortable.

“It definitely makes you interesting, Freddie.”

He smiles, watching as you stretch out, slowly making yourself more comfortable.

“You alright, y/n?” He asks as you let out a soft groan as you curl up in your side.

“Yeah. I’m just really tired, Freddie. Haven’t slept much lately.” You mumble, eyes already closed lightly.

“I’m sure, princess. You just rest for a bit. I’ll make sure you’re up in time for dinner.”

“Thank you.”

He smiles, watching as you tuck one of his pillows under your head. He’s always found you adorable when you’re sleepy. The few times he’s caught you napping in ginny’s room at the burrow, or on the couch down in the common room while your friends all talk, he’s felt his heart melt.

Not wanting to be creepy, though, he turns his attention to a joke product he’s been working on, listening to the gentle breathes leaving your body as you fall asleep.

~.~

You’ve been asleep for about a half hour now and Fred can’t help but admire you. Every time a little groan leaves your lips as you adjust your position, he can’t stop a smile from growing on his lips.

That’s not even mentioning how adorable you look curled up on his bed. Your laying on your stomach, with one leg stretched out while the other is pulled up to your side as you hug a pillow under your head and towards your chest. Your hair is sprawled out over his blankets, afternoon light reflecting of the silky strands.

He watches as your torso slowly rises and falls with your steady breathes and your eyelids flutter with your dreams. He watches as you ever so gently situate yourself from time to time.

He is so enamored with you at the moment he can’t help but want to share his feelings with the world. He’s loved you for a few years now, but he’s never dared let on he does in case you didn’t feel the same. He can’t fathom losing you as a friend, so he never wanted to share something that might make the relationship awkward.

He’s never even told George how he feels about you. When he realized just how deeply he felt for you, he promised himself that he’d keep it quiet. For all you and George knew, Fred only thought of you as a good friend and nothing more. Sure you both knew that he cared for you and would do anything you ever asked him to, but you would never guess that Fred wanted to be able to call you his - that he wanted to be able to hold you and kiss you and shout to the world that he’s dating you.

Fred sighs happily as you continue sleeping, feeling his heart swell with love. Godric how you made him feel.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s written a few words.

Y/n, sweetheart -

Godric, I love you.

He feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as he reads over what he wrote. He couldn’t possibly have written that right?

Looking over at you cautiously to find you still fast asleep he sighs. He checks the time finding that dinner is still over an hour away. Maybe writing out his feelings wouldn’t be so bad? It’s not like anyone would be seeing them right?

~.~

You giggle as you shut the door on your two best friends as they stumble over each other up the stairs.

As soon as you three stepped off the train, Fred was asking you to come over for a few days, not wanting to part ways quite yet. Writing out his feelings did the exact opposite of what he was hoping. Instead of feeling relieved and getting them out of the forefront of his mind, writing out his love for you had only made him crazier for you.

It was insane how much he felt for you and he couldn’t imagine having you disappear on him so quickly. Hence why he asked you over and you’ve been at the burrow for about three days now.

It’s been amazing spending time with your two best friends without the stress or schedule of classes and tests.

Currently you were trying to escape their wrath for a harmless prank you pulled on them this morning which may have resulted in them both getting drenched in water.

“Y/n, sweetheart, can you let us in our room please? We really would like to change out of these wet clothes.” Fred asks sweetly, attempting to get you to show yourself to them.

“Not yet. You’re going to attack me soon as I do.”

“We won’t. Swear we won’t, right george?”

“Right, Fred. Just let us in.”

“I don’t trust you two.” You admit, trying to catch your breath as you back away from the locked door.

“Why not? We’ve never given you a reason not too.”

“You’re joking right? Must I remind you about your birthday?” You deadpan, taking a seat at their desk in an attempt to protect yourself. If they tried to attack you, you at least had an arsenal of pens and pencils.

“Alright, fair enough. We promise no tricks. Just unlock the door.”

“I really don’t want to. At least I’m safe right now.”

You hear a mix of chuckles and a groan as you curiously look over the contents of the desktop. You frown when you spot a folded piece of paper with your name on it.

Why would they have a paper addressed to you? And what would even be in it? It’s not like anyone has anything important enough to put in a letter for you. If they have something to say they just talk to you.

Without questioning it, you pick up the paper and start reading it.

Y/n, sweetheart -

Godric, I love you. I’ve loved you for ages now but I’ve been far too worried about ruining our friendship to tell you. The only reason I’m writing these words now is because I know no one but me will ever see this.

“Y/n? What’re you doing?” Fred questions through the door when you get too quiet.

I can’t imagine a life without you, y/n. You’ve been the best part of mine since I met you on the train in our first year. The way you’re so unbelievably kind and fun to be around is just one of the many things I adore about you. I could write you a list, but it’d get to be quite long.

Merlin, I wish I could tell you how I feel. I want to scream it to the world I swear. I want to be able to hold you, and kiss you, whenever and wherever. I want to go on hogsmeade trips with you and buy you a butterbeer and be one of those couple’s you’re always fawning over. I want to get you gifts just because I want to see you smile.

You can hear the door click as one of them unlocks it, but you pay no attention to it.

I want to be the one you talk to about anything and everything. I want to be the one to comfort you. I want to be the one to make you smile. I want to fall asleep and wake up beside you each day. I just want you. I’ve wanted you since the middle of second year, but I’m sure you don’t feel the same. I just needed to get this all off my chest.

I love you and I hope you can tell even though we’re friends. I love you, y/n. So much.

“Shit, princess. Y-you weren’t supposed to read that.” Fred sighs from behind you.

You jump slightly at his proximity, not expecting him to be right behind you.

You look up at him as he paces across the room, looking over to George before back at Fred. You frown as you watch him tug at his hair.

“Freddie?”

“Hmm?” He acknowledges, still pacing.

“Will you please look at me?”

“What’s even got you like this? What could you have written that’s so bad?” George questions, walking to the desk as you walk over to Fred.

You watch as Fred chews on his lip as you stand in front of him. You see the anxiousness in his eyes and you’ve never once been more reminded of a scared puppy as much as you are now. Fred looks absolutely terrified, only further proven by how he’s shaking slightly.

“Fred, do you really feel that way? Do you love me?”

“I, uhm, yeah...I-I do.”

You smile, pushing back some of his hair that’s stuck to his forehead from being drenched as you wrap your arms around his neck in a hug.

“You should have told me ages ago. I’ve loved you since second year, too, you goof.” You giggle, kissing his cheek before burying your face in his neck.

“What?”

You pull back to look at him, finding him sporting a look of utter confusion as he stares at you, mouth open.

“What?” You chuckle, cocking a brow at him as you smile lightly.

“Y-you like me too? Like you actually like me? More than as a friend?”

You hear George chuckle to the side of you, drawing both of your guys’ attention.

“Godric, Fred. Never would have pegged you as a sap.” He snorts.

“Be nice, George. Believe it or not, it’s actually really sweet. Write a love letter to Angie and see how quickly she swoons.”

Fred chuckles at your repose while George scoffs, although there’s no hiding the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

You watch as George grabs some dry clothes before leaving the two of you to yourselves.

“So you actually like me too?”

“Of course I do, Freddie. Haven’t you ever noticed how much the girls would tease me when you were around? They were teasing me about you.”

“Bloody hell. They’ve done that for years! I thought it was just how they were.”

“I mean, it is, but they tend to get a bit more obnoxious about it when you’re around.”

“So you really like me too?”

“Yes, Freddie. I like you too. I just need to ask, when did you write that?”

He chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck as he gives you a half smile.

“After our charms final....you took a nap in our dorm, remember?”

“Mhm. Your bed was really comfy.” You giggle, a blush rising to Fred’s cheeks.

“You looked really cute sleeping in my bed and I, well, I may have gotten a little overwhelmed with emotions.”

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Godric you’re adorable, Fred.”

“Not as adorable as you, princess.”

“I beg to differ.” You giggle, smiling as he brings you into another kiss, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you pull away you press your foreheads together, smiling.

“So, do you think you could write that list about the things you adore about me?”

He can’t help the chuckle that leaves his chest as you smile adoringly at him.

“I’ll get right on it, love. Right after I change out of these clothes since someone decided it’d be fun to prank the pranksters this morning.”

You giggle, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before you leave him to let him change clothes.

“I’m glad I found your letter, Fred.”

“I am too, y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.” You smile as you close his bedroom door. Who would have guessed that Fred Weasley would declare his feelings for you in a love letter? One things for sure though, you’re saving that paper and cherishing it the rest of your life.

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#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #theweasleyslut's 1.1k sleepover

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

A Night of Discovery

pairing: hybrid!Taehyung x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere au, smut

synopsis: For a learning trip, a seemingly innocent fox has taught you to never trust a predator in one day.

warnings: noncon, mention of murder, sadism

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok so i may have made a moodboard to make up for how bad this is, SUE ME 😭 the request (spoiler warning)

The road is bumpy as the bus navigates through the looming forest, endless pine trees passing by your eyes in a blur. Chatters swirl in the fresh cold air, windows slightly cracked open as you try to sleep for the nth time with your head leaning against the smudged glass. You jolt awake each time, and it’s been two hours since your first attempt because of the reckless driver in the front. You’re clutching your backpack in your lap as you fantasize about the summer, your upcoming graduation.

Being in your final year of high school, the stress has been eating at you, but your biology teacher had the sheer niceness to give her students a break by taking you on a field trip to a marine zoo. It’s related to your syllabus, studying about marine ecology and all, and you were given the freedom to choose an aquatic animal of your choice to make a project on. You aren’t the least bit excited, because the zoo is so huge that your parents had to pay for the night you have to spend in a motel. Walking for hours and searching for one interesting fish is not at all thrilling.

Your body lurches forward when the driver abruptly hits the brakes. You take out your earphones as everyone stands up. The bus doors open with a hiss from the rush of air as students step outside one by one. You are sluggish when you hop on the cement, and the zoo is huge in front of you. The glass panels complement the surrounding greens, and you can catch the crashes of the waves from the shore behind. You can’t see it, and the environment is rather lonely except for the building close by: the motel next to the zoo.

Ms. Kang is directing your classmates to the motel first, and you’re about to follow before you stumble on your shoelaces. You crouch down to tie them, and when your teacher looks back, you say, “I’ll be there in a second!” When they’re inside, you decide to stretch your limbs after sitting in a stiff chair for so long. You walk to the woods by the parking lot, curious about the sights under the grey clouds. The weather is rather gloomy, and it doesn’t exactly help you feel better until you step on the grass ahead of the road. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and start touching the tree trunks out of boredom. It isn't entertaining, but it's relaxing.

A distant growl snaps you out of your sightseeing and you search around with your eyes for the source. The sound is very peculiar, and it has you feeling slightly nervous but undoubtedly curious.

You aim to take a step forward until your name is hollered, and you yell, “I’m here!” You hear hasty footsteps until Jimin appears next to you.

“Ms. Kang is asking for you. It’s your turn to check in,” he informs and you’re about to reply until you hear another growl. It’s louder compared to the previous one, and the both of you look into the forest in fright. It’s drawn out, but it gradually grows quiet. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you furrow your brows a little anxiously and eventually enter the building with Jimin.

After everyone settled into their rooms, ate in the café provided by the zoo, the real trip began. You have to admit, the aquarium is gorgeous. The blue light reflecting from the water is easy on the eyes, and you’re fawning over all the swimming fish in admiration. There is a guide with you, and you listen to any information that is related to your favorite animals so far. You note down the names as a requirement from the teacher, and research some on your phone throughout your exploration. It’s actually interesting in the beginning, but you do get somewhat bored when a few hours pass. It’s 7PM when the tour ends for the day, and the rest of your time is leisure.

You’re allowed back in your rooms for the evening, and you rest on the comfortable bed to gain back some of your energy. You’re more interested in the forest just outside, and you take out a box of fruits from your bag before leaving the motel. It’s dark when you munch on a sliced green apple while eyeing the forest. The lights from the motel sign help with your vision and you’re just standing on the empty lot while twirling around absentmindedly. It’s not like you’re close enough with anyone to hang out with them at this time, but it allows you to appreciate the breeze more. You’re wearing a cardigan to keep you warm, and you’re enjoying your time until you hear a whimper.

You stop in your tracks before inching closer to the sound. It’s pained, or at least you think it is, and you take out your phone to shine a flashlight at the eerie forest. More whimpers resound in your ears, and you timidly trudge into the darkness. You yelp when you feel something soft lightly graze your calves, and jump away before seeing it: it’s the tail of a red fox. You gasp in slight fear because you don’t know if you trespassed or are in danger. The fox stares at you, and you stare back until it quietly whines again. “Awww,” you unintentionally coo. You’re scared when it wraps its fluffy tail around you, but you’re not so intimidated when it starts snuggling into your legs. You crouch to level with it and hesitantly bring your fingers to its head. Its fur is so soft that you wonder if it has been tamed.

“You’re so cute,” you gush in a whisper when it leans into your hand. You retract your hand and take out a blueberry from your container and feed it to the fox. Your heart warms just by watching it chew, and you give it some more. This encounter might be the best part about this trip, because the animal is just so adorable. You want to cry from how overwhelmingly precious and pure it seems with its adoring gaze. You’re grinning brightly as you eat with it, sharing your only snack for this whole expedition.

You entertain yourself with it for a little while before deciding to go back. You ignore its protests guiltily and bid farewell, “I’ll see you again, cutie.” It’s already been an hour and your legs ache from bending for so long. You know you shouldn’t be out too late, and as you retrace your steps back to the motel, you hear it run off deep into the woods.

The night is spent tossing and turning in bed because you wanted to sleep early in order to function at 8AM the next morning, but you can’t force it. Surfing through the media or keeping your eyes closed for 15 minutes straight didn’t help in the slightest, and somehow your energy has been increasing instead. The window adjacent to the mattress glares at you with its beauty of the crowd of unsaturated trees. You didn’t bother pulling the curtains because it’s a pleasant view, and the stars that you rarely see in the city shine brightly in the countryside. You think back to your interaction with the fox, and a smile creeps up on your tired face. You want to see it again.

Putting your shirt back on, you’re adjusting your cardigan when you crack open the door of your room. No one’s roaming in the halls, as expected since it’s midnight, but you try to be mindful of your temporary neighbours as you sneakily exit the building. You turn to your left instantly to scurry towards the mysterious forest. You don’t know if the fox is still around, but you whistle lowly anyway. Twigs snap beyond your vision, and you warily wait for something to happen.

An extremely loud growl rips a tiny scream out of you and you immediately flinch backwards. You’re frozen in your spot, almost paralyzed as the growls continue. It’s confusing because the noise is more like an aggressive hiss, and it’s unlike anything you’ve heard before. It suddenly switches to a whimper, a plea. You don’t know if you have to break a fight between two animals, but it doesn’t matter when your curiosity takes over and makes you confidently (albeit feigned) stride into the jungle.

As if your actions are being encouraged, the whimpers grow more desperate and you take slow steps while watching out for any predators waiting to attack. You’re trembling in fear, but then your fox also might need help…

The motion is way too quick for you to process and you let out a blood curdling scream when you’re tackled to the ground. You don’t stop screaming even when your mouth is covered, muffling your cry for help.

“Calm down,” a honeyed rich voice tells you, soothing with its calm tone, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You quiet down and peek at the assailant through heavy lids. A confused hum catches in your throat upon seeing batlike ears that poke through dark hair. They easily blend in together, and you scrutinize his features and notice a swishing bushy tail behind the man on top of you. Terror dawns in your eyes, though the man looks fairly tranquilent by the ordeal.

“You fed me earlier,” he recounts and slowly removes his hand from your face. You’re gawking up at him as he clarifies, “Fox hybrid.” You squeak when his tongue darts out to lick your cheek and chuckles at your expression.

“What a-are you doing?” you snivel shakily.

He gently tucks a stray strand behind your ear before answering nonchalantly, “Scenting my precious doll. You’re so pretty, and kind… and naive.”

Your breaths quicken when he leans into you, but he conveniently misses your lips to bury his face into your neck. The fur on his pointy ear tickles your jawline, and you’re startled when he starts to sniff you. You feel him lick your sensitive skin and clench your fists with a mewl. You’re utterly terrified by the discovery of a new species, who also seems to be very strong and stealthy. He’s handsome, gifted with a heart shaped face and a set of charming black eyes with full lips, but it’s not important when he’s crushing you with his weight to keep you in place. His mouth and nose are all over you as they explore your taste and smell, and his satisfaction is evident with his sighs of bliss.

“I couldn’t get enough of you earlier,” he reveals with a subtle moan, “I've never had the experience of smelling something so delicious. It's fortunate that you're so easy to fool.” The only thing that you do know about foxes is how cunning they are, but you didn’t think one would land you in this situation. You’re heaving to breathe with a struggle, but he pays no mind to it. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

Despite rendering you immobile, he sounds more desperate and needy than you do; as if he’s the weaker one, like the roles are switched. You might be able to use that to your advantage… “I would love that,” you choke out, though you have no idea what he means by his words, “but I can’t move. I-I want to kiss you.” You want to smack your forehead for coming up with such a terrible lie; you don't even know if his intention is to kiss you.

“Yeah?” he drawls seductively and withdraws his knees from your thighs, most likely leaving a bruise from how hard he dug them in. He holds himself up by his palms that previously clung onto your shoulders and limits your peripheral vision. Your eyes trail to his defined collarbone for a short moment, the moonlight casting a shadow over his fine features. “Kiss me then.”

You inhale sharply before raising your leg to kick him, but his reflexes are faster than yours as he prevents it with one knee. He tuts, “I’m offended; I thought you found me cute.” A knowing smile graces his pink lips, and it doesn’t falter even when you open your mouth to scream again. His calloused hand immediately silences you before you can make any noise, and his other hand reaches down to your lower region. “I even wore a pretty outfit for you today. Such an ungrateful doll...”

He tugs on your pajama shorts, dragging them down to your knees along with your underwear. You shake your hand and beg unintelligibly, “Please don’t.” You clench your thighs together, but he forces them open and leans back to take your bottoms off completely. The weather feels like it’s dropped to negative degrees as you shiver and he gently hushes you when you begin to sob.

“Oh doll, there’s no reason to cry yet,” he sighs in fake empathy, “I just really, really want to fuck you.” He heaves his shirt over his head, and that’s when you get a glimpse of his so-called “pretty outfit”. The black garment is familiar because it's the merchandise of an indie band with its flamboyant logo; you know you’ve seen someone else wear it today. He has to use both hands to take it off completely, and once it’s off, your wails echo in the deserted land as he ties it around your mouth. It’s Jimin’s outfit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me. I love having your attention.” His voice is a mere breath, filled with anticipation to touch you.

He slides down to your knees as he continues to undress himself. He’s throbbing under the uncomfortable fabric of the tight jeans, and instead of attacking him with your now free hands, you cover your face stained with tears as you cry. You feel like you’re having a heart attack as your gut churns in defeat; there’s no point in fighting a man who might’ve killed your classmate, a fox no less.

The moment his pants are down his thighs, his stiff length grazes his stomach before he palms it and rubs himself up and down your folds. Your heat is damp with your natural discharge, but it’s so warm and he feels so aroused as a moan slips past his luscious lips. “You must think I’m so rude,” he whispers and hovers over your face, “I haven’t even introduced myself and yet I’m already marking you.”

He whines cutely at a particular tingle before saying, “My name’s Taehyung. I’d love to hear you moan it, but you’re just so naughty.” His emphasis is airy, and you’re terrified by the contrast of his soft tone and rough actions. He’s calculated, but also very reckless; almost amateur as he begins to position himself by your entrance.

Your words are gibberish as you repeat: “No, no, please no!” He clicks his tongue in response and locks eyes with you just before he shoves his cock inside, no adjustment whatsoever as his pitch grows higher in wonderment. He’s down to the hilt, and the fabric in your mouth isn’t enough to drown out your scream of pain. The stretch is excruciating. His eyes screw back as he loses himself in you, and it’s as if he’s lost all control when he starts slamming into you at an unforgiving pace.

As opposed to your protests, he starts chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, my perfect little doll.” He’s never had intercourse with a human before, but it’s not up for comparison when he’s feeling so heavenly because of your tightness. You’re pulsating around him, walls clenching in discomfort because you’re in so much agony. You push his shoulders, but it’s futile as he doesn’t budge in the slightest; he almost appears possessed, but his loud moans disprove the theory.

He can’t form coherent words, and neither can you. If you weren’t in such a shock, you’d be encouraging him to be louder in case anyone is nearby to help you. You thrash under him, but your movements are limited because of his firm build. You beg and beg, but he is animalistic with his chase for his high. The sound of slapping skin have no pauses in between because of his pace, and dare he admit that the predator in him enjoys your attempts at getting away. It makes it so much more fun for him, but he’s unable to savour it from how your pussy sucks him in so deliciously. "You feel so fucking good, I'm going crazy."

Once he’s gained some of his sensibility back, he latches onto your neck to lick and bite you. You pull at his hair to yank him away, his canine teeth sinking into your flesh for a second before he moves onto another spot. His torture is endless, and his growls scare you enough to remove your hand and shake like a leaf under him. He wants to taste all of you, and you can't serve as an obstacle.

“Pet my ears,” he grunts, “touch me, touch me, dolly.”

The initial pain is starting to subside, and your thoughts are coming together although they’re hazed. You’re still aching, but you know he just dropped you a hint; the sooner he’s satisfied, the earlier this nightmare ends. Your fingertips stroke the back of his twitching ear. His fur is so velvety, and petting him is the least bad part about this experience. You must be doing something right, because he’s getting so noisy that there’s no way someone would miss you now. You suck your teeth with a hiss as he sets an impossibly rapid rate, rearranging your guts with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries breathlessly. His release washes over him as spurts of cum paint your throbbing walls in white, and you’re relieved that this is the end.

His intakes of air are hot on your skin as his breath fans the crook of your neck. Your stomach drops the moment he murmurs his next words, “I want to do it again.”

“Hey!” a gruff voice interrupts his huffs, and your whole world lights up when you see a man in a uniform with a flashlight over your heaving nude bodies. Taehyung is surprised that he didn’t catch the man’s footsteps when he walked over. “This is indecent exposure, you know–” the security officer goes quiet in shock when he notices the perk of Taehyung’s ears, and then the stiff, unmoving tail behind. “What the fuck?”

Taehyung rolls off of you before disappearing from your sight in a single second. He is stealthy and quick, and his footsteps are light when he leaves; presumably shifting as he goes. The guard attempts to chase after him before stopping in front of you. His eyes trail down your figure before he looks away in disgust. “Goddammit, kid, put your clothes back on.”

“Thank you so much,” you choke on your tears of joy as you ignore the ache in your thighs, the swelling in your heart and your suffocating turmoil. You stand up on wobbly knees and slowly dress yourself. The officer has his back facing you while you change, and you’re grateful he doesn’t witness how fragile you are.

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks after a moment of prolonged silence.

“H-He was raping me,” you speak in a hushed tone, “and I think h-he killed my classmate.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll go notify the police. Are you staying in the motel?”

When you return back to your room with the company of your savior, you’re hurting everywhere and sleep comes to you easily from all the crying you’ve done. You wake up from a knock on your door, and it’s early in the morning as your teacher says, “Pack up dear, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

They found the clothes, you note when you limp outside with your bag dragging you down. There are dried tear stains on your cheeks when you step on the open bus, and you see a bunch of cops surrounding the forest through the window. Jimin isn’t inside, and you shake your head with pursed lips as sobs bubble up in your throat. This feels nothing short of a nightmare.

The class is informed of Jimin’s disappearance after taking off, and you lean your head against the window as the driver recklessly drives. Your vision is blurred with tears as you watch the forest, but it doesn’t distort it enough for you to miss the flash of a blood red tail skip between the trees, following the path of your transport.

After all, foxes are known for being fast. There’s no way this one wouldn’t be able to track you down sooner or later, your scent bringing you back to him.

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung imagines #bts taehyung #bts yandere #yandere taehyung

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 6

The final part!! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion! Thank you so much to everyone who has reblogged/commented/shared - it has meant so much. Special thank you again to @morganofthewildfire I'd still be working away at this fic if it wasn't for you, I don't know I ever would have finished it off. Your comments and analysis helped me so much and made this fic better than I could have alone, I'm so grateful.

13k - masterlist - ao3

There are five weeks between the eventful wrap party and her first day shooting the Netflix miniseries in Antica. Five weeks for Aelin to sort her shit.

It’s ambitious, and probably unattainable, but she needs a goal.

She needs something to draw her mind away from Rifthold and the director she knows is no longer there.

She gives herself a week of self pity. A week of lying around her sparsely decorated and impersonal Orynth apartment dwelling and pointedly ignoring the headlines she knows have been released. Elide let her know only one picture was captured of her with tears in her eyes leaving the party. Only one and gods bless Elide she shut it down.

Aelin lies on her uncomfortable couch in well-worn pyjamas with unwashed hair and runs through the photos on her phone of her and Fenrys, her and Manon, and the group of them together on set doing whatever shit they used to do.

She spends more time than she should like that. She sits there until her coffee table is overflowing with takeaway wrappers and Aedion and Elide have stopped texting more than once a day. She’s awful for ignoring them but she’s still mortified.

She hasn’t been able to look Aedion in the eyes since he dropped her back at her apartment after their long flight home from Rifthold. He didn’t say much. After he managed to again get her out of the party with minimal press she had cried, curled up between Aedion and Lysandra in their bed, and he didn’t offer judgement or instruction.

He just held her, whispering words she can’t remember but appreciates anyway. Now she hasn’t replied to any of his texts.

She hasn’t texted Fenrys or Manon either. She doesn’t know what to say.

She knows Fenrys jumped immediately into another movie, an action movie she knows he’s been chomping at the bit to get training for, and Manon into the second series of her show that she’s probably too famous for now.

They’re busy. They’ll understand. At least that’s what she tells herself.

The worst thing she does in that week is pour over the photos she has of Rowan. She didn’t realise she had so many but her camera roll is full of silver and green.

There are photos of just him, looking like Rowan, tall and handsome and understatedly happy, smiling covert little smiles at Aelin behind the camera. He was used to her instructing him to pose by the end of filming, she loved snapping away as he did anything. Eating, sleeping, smiling, everything - if it was Rowan she wanted it captured.

Now every photo is a knife to the chest.

The ones of the two of them together are worse, they twist the knife, pain splicing through her until she can hardly breathe. There are pictures of their cheeks pressed together, eyes shining, some serious, some silly. In all of them Aelin can clearly see her own happiness.

She can’t stop looking at them even as tears swell in her eyes and her throat gets tight.

For one week.

Until it’s been seven days since her flight landed back in Orynth and she gets up off her couch and deletes them. She almost doesn’t, her thumb hovers over the button for a good minute before she presses down but then it’s done and they’re gone. She showers and changes her clothes, she throws away all the rubbish on her coffee table and makes a plan.

Filming the movie with all of them it was easy to feel better than she did before, surrounded by new and exciting things, new people who didn’t know her before or treat her differently because of it. It was easy to lose herself in who she was there and with them.

Now though, she’s back to real life and real life lasts for an uneventful three weeks.

She tries what she can, she reads, she runs, she bakes, she teaches herself how to knit. None of it is satisfying and it's hard to make it stick. It’s all boring and never quite captures her attention the way she hopes. Never captures her attention enough to tear it away from Rowan and Rifthold.

A week before she flies out to Antica it changes.

She stumbles upon the change, completely accidentally, and she doesn’t realise what she’s needed until it's right in front of her.

Her usual run route is obstructed by construction and so she takes a left where she usually takes a right, heading down into the west side of the city, the side she doesn’t often frequent.

She used to. She used to spend hours strolling the streets letting the warmth of the sun and Sam’s hand in hers settle into her skin as they observed the numerous bakeries and small boutiques. Thankfully the scenery appears to have changed since.

The chill breeze of the September Orynth air teases the loose strands of hair tickling her face as she comes to a stop outside the sleek shop front. The wooden panels are painted a dark, glossy black and the windows are polished so brightly they reflect what’s left of the sunlight.

Music of Mistward the sign reads in curved, white lettering.

She can see her reflection in the shop window, her cheeks flushed, hair unruly, her running gear nowhere near to what would be appropriate attire for the shop dripping in class but she can’t turn away.

A bell tinkles as she pushes through the door, her headphones gripped tight in her fist as the gentle jazz playing over the sound system greets her. She doesn’t like jazz, it’s not her thing, but along with the musk of wood in the air it’s soothing in welcoming her in.

She passes walls of guitars and violins until she reaches the instrument that caught her eye. It’s sleek, black lid propped open revealing the elegant strings, pulled tight in neat lines. The sharp contrast of the keys against each other, bright against the deep black of the case. Her fingers ghost over them, dying to press down.

She hasn’t played since those days in Rowan’s Doranelle home. She’s wanted to, longed to feel the cool keys under her fingertips and the flood of the music pouring out of her, but the cheap keyboard in her Orynth apartment wouldn’t do Rowan’s beautiful instrument justice.

Aelin would rather not play at all than attempt a cheap imitation of what she felt there.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice sounds behind her, low and raspy but cheerful all the same.

She turns, taking in the older man, his grey hair cut short and his classic shirt and slacks pressed crisp. She glances back to the piano before facing him fully.

“Stunning,” she breathes.

The man steps forwards and offers her his hand. She slips her hand into his and he pumps firmly as he introduces himself.

“Emrys,” he says. “Welcome to Music of Mistward.”

“Aelin,” she says, surprised to hear her voice thick.

“Great to meet you, Aelin,” Emrys says with an ancient smile. He nods towards the piano. “Do you play?”

“No,” she says and Emrys’ smile flickers. “Yes, I mean I used to. I want to,” is what she settles on.

He nods, satisfied, before taking a step closer to the piano. He runs a hand over the top, almost reverently and smiles to himself.

“Antique,” he starts, “almost one hundred years old but well loved. I acquired it recently - here we deal mostly in antique instruments, it’s a passion for both myself and my husband. The previous owner only sold it to me when she inherited it and didn’t know how to play, she wanted it to find a good home.”

He shares a smile with her as if she’s in on the joke but her breathing still hasn’t settled.

“Satin Ebony finish,” Emrys continues, “eighty-eight keys, all original but preserved to the highest quality. Accompanying bench, cut with refreshed velvet. I don’t know in all my years I’ve seen such a fine instrument as old as this.”

Aelin glances back to the piano, it’s big, it won’t fit in her apartment in Orynth but she doesn’t care. She can… adjust. She hasn’t felt a pull like this in a while, she doesn’t want to deny it when she does.

“How much?” she almost demands from the man in front of her.

He appraises her and she knows what he sees. Her bedraggled state and the tension through her shoulders doesn’t give the impression of someone with this much cash to throw around. She abruptly ignores that the way she probably can afford this is because of Rowan’s movie.

When he doesn’t speak she repeats herself, more firmly. “How much?”

“Our price includes delivery and tuning on arrival.” He seems apprehensive of telling her the truth. Aelin waits.

When he finally reveals the figure Aelin blinks. And then she extends her hand. “I’ll take it.”

To his credit Emrys just nods, shaking her hand. “You don’t want to at least play it first?”

Aelin feels the smirk she hasn’t worn in a while creep onto her face. “Is there a risk you’re pulling a fast one on me?”

Emrys returns her smile, a playful glint in his eye. “Not a chance, Aelin. Please follow me to the register where I can take your details.”

Aelin almost stumbles. Almost, but then recovers.

“Any chance I can pay a deposit and then let you know where you’ll be delivering sometime soon?”

Emrys winks knowingly. “Absolutely.”

She follows him to the counter, signs away part of a disgustingly large total of money but leaves with a sense of satisfaction. It’s an accomplishment, a step for purely selfish reasons.

The first thing she does when she leaves the shop is call Elide.

Aelin meets her new therapist two days before she flies out to Antica.

She hasn’t called her old one in months and thinks that’s probably a sign. And she’s all about changes at the moment.

She isn’t shooting in Antica for too long, only a couple of months until she’s back in Orynth and then back to Rifthhold for press. Her stomach drops everytime the thought wanders into her head.

She’s excited to be back in Rifthold, but the company is daunting.

Fenrys and Manon will easily be pissed at her disappearance. She knows Manon will play aloof but she also knows she’ll be upset, Fenrys too. Aelin didn’t mean to hurt them, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the Earth, and she knows she’s let them down but Fenrys and Manon remind her of Rowan. She couldn’t trust the conversation not to eventually steer towards him and Aelin isn’t ready for that.

Their break-up feels weirdly anticlimactic. After everything they built to, Aelin just dipped.

She knows it seems that way to Rowan at least. She hasn’t texted him, or rang him or anything since the party. She’s wanted to, wanted more than anything to hear his voice as she cried, but it’s not fair to him to drag it out and she knows that. She knew when she drew the line she had to stay on her side of it, no matter how much it hurt.

She had cried until her head pounded and her throat was raw. She cried until her eyes itched with no tears left to fall, until all that came out of her was hoarse screeches as she ached to hear him call her Fireheart one last time.

But no one needs to know that, she had kept it as hidden as she could.

She definitely didn’t need any more paparazzi pictures of her with red-rimmed eyes looking downtrodden. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rowan, or worse her mother, seeing them.

She knows Fenrys and Manon; Aedion, Lysandra and Elide would see through her flimsy excuses and so it was easier to stay quiet.

She’s not thinking about facing them yet. She supposes that will be something that likely comes up with this new therapist, but so far on her own, she’s choosing avoidance.

She gets Maeve’s number from Dorian, and she comes highly recommended by a number of Dorian’s other high profile clients. She’s well-versed in non-disclosure agreements, secret sessions and back street exits; she feels like the perfect fit for Aelin.

Unofficially, Dorian lets her know Maeve takes no shit, and that’s also just what Aelin needs.

They agree to online sessions while she’s in Antica, but Maeve recommended an initial meeting and Aelin is open to all of her suggestions.

Their first hour is not directly her most life changing but it’s a start.

“Welcome, Aelin,” Maeve says, sweeping an arm out towards the firm-looking, orange couch in the centre of the room.

Aelin takes a seat, mutters her thanks and glances around the room.

The room should feel cold with the exposed brick and minimalistic decor, the only furniture being the couch Aelin perches on, the almost regal armchair Maeve reclines in and a lamp, but it doesn’t and she gets comfortable tucking her feet beneath her thighs and leaning against the arm.

“So,” Maeve begins, surveying her in the way only a true professional can. “Let’s get started.”

Aelin feels bare beneath her gaze, and like everything about Maeve and her practise it should be unnerving but she just blinks against the scrutiny.

“Why are you here today? You could start with sharing why you have made this appointment.”

And isn’t that the million gold-mark question?

Aelin takes a deep breath through her nose and raises her chin.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” she admits. “Or maybe I just want to know I’ve actually moved forwards.”

Maeve’s expression stays calm, but Aelin knows she’d be smirking if she could. She’s well aware of how therapy works but even so, speaking her thoughts aloud can help to verify them in her own mind.

Aelin hopes so at least.

Their hour is over quickly and Aelin is resolved that Maeve is a good fit, reassured in Dorian’s claim that the woman takes no shit. Her all-knowing assessment of Aelin should have been unsettling but the frank dissection is what she needs.

Online therapy, especially fitting it around shooting might be a challenge but it’s for the best. As much as she values her independence and standing on her own two feet, Aelin is big enough to admit that facing her mother again may require some professional guidance. Seeing Rowan too, but again, she’s not thinking about that yet.

Antica is hot and Aelin is sweaty within seconds of stepping out of the air-conditioned luxury of the airport. That feeling lasts the entire time she’s there, disrupting the otherwise enjoyable time she has shooting the series.

Her new co-stars are fine, they invite her out with them and make her smile but she can’t help as though a part of her is always comparing them to who and what she left in Rifthold. Aelin tries her best to enjoy her time there with them, she hosts dinner parties and invites them to a game of Aedion’s but nothing quite hits the same as her time spent on The Crescent City.

She rationalises it to Maeve, that The Crescent City was a big turning point in her life and that it has nothing to do with Rowan, Fenrys or Manon, but she’s not sure she even believes it herself.

She spends the rest of her time in Antica trying to convince herself, and Maeve, that she’s moving past it. That she’s moving forwards or else she’ll move backwards. She’s not sure how much of it is futile.

The Crescent City is done, whether she likes it or not, and she can’t deny it changed her in ways she didn’t expect. It’s a hard pill to swallow that maybe it changed her beyond return to how she was before. She also can’t quite figure out whether she thinks that’s a bad thing or not.

They have a dinner for the core cast and crew, including Rowan, once they’re all back in Rifthold for the beginning of the press cycle. They have one night to reacquaint before they’re shoved into the whirlwind that is interviews, photoshoots and promotion.

She’s seen the trailer already and it’s just as she expected but more. It’s dark and dreary with flashes of brightness from herself and Fenrys and she’d want to watch it if she chanced a viewing as a member of the public.

What is surreal, is to see herself in a polished version of the film they were creating. Or at least a part of it.

She said each of the lines, rehearsed them over and over until they fell off her tongue without thought, but she still doesn’t recognise the girl in the trailer. A droplet of pride slips down her chest at the realisation that it’s not Aelin in the trailer but Feyre. She knows she’s good, has known it all along, but the realisation and reaffirmation is ecstasy better than any drug.

She hovers outside the restaurant, watching through the window, needing a couple more seconds before she submits herself to the assault of them all again. She still hasn’t replied to either Fenrys or Manon and the thought presses on her like lead but it’s too late to change that now.

If she’s honest she’s concerning herself with Fenrys and Manon in the hopes of distracting herself from the fact that she’s seconds away from Rowan. Seconds away from him in the flesh, his solid body in front of her that she had learned almost as well as her own.

Her palms are clammy and she wipes them against the fabric of her trousers. The upcoming interviews and photoshoots will all be styled for her and so she’s relishing in her last moments for a while of truly dressing like Aelin.

She takes a step towards the restaurant door, the tip of her trainer bumping the wood when a voice sounds behind her.

“Well, hello there, Stranger.”

Aelin braces herself, hand paused outstretched where it had been reaching for the door.

She turns, biting her lip as she faces Fenrys. He looks the same as he did, skin still golden, eyes still dancing with mischief, but his golden curls are trimmed shorter than the last time she saw him. His expression is carefully blank.

“I- Hi… um,” she stumbles over the words. “I’ve missed you.”

Fenrys breaks almost immediately. “Oh thank the fucking gods.”

He surges forwards and wraps her into a tight hug. Aelin clings to him, fighting the tears in her eyes as she buries her face in his chest. She’s gone far too long without this, without him, and it’s all her own fault.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Fenrys asks. “Oh wait, no you don’t. I’m assuming your phone broke, or was stolen or something since you never replied to any of my texts letting you know.”

Aelin knows her cheeks are stained pink. “I’m sorry,” she admits.

“I know.” His voice softens, losing the teasing edge as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

He pauses before he speaks again, his eyes running over her face. “You could have texted me anytime, you know. Manon too. I know you might forget or try to convince yourself otherwise, but we are your friends. You could have called us about literally anything.”

Aelin feels like she could cry. She’s not sure that she isn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, especially not related to the movie,” or Rowan he doesn’t say but Aelin hears it. “We just wanted to hear your stupid voice.”

Aelin pouts. “My voice isn’t stupid.”

She pokes her tongue out as he rolls his eyes, easily falling back into the dynamic they had shaped a few months ago.

“Not what I meant,” he says before pausing, taking her in as she stands in front of him. “You can’t lose us that easily, you know. We’re like rats or fleas or something. Hard to get rid of.”

“Nice,” she comments, but her chest is tight at his words.

He smiles at her before adding, “and you had fucking better text me back.”

Aelin laughs through the sniffles he’s kindly ignoring. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and finds his contact. Hi she sends and feels his phone buzz against her.

“Much better,” he says and releases her from his arms. “Now, are you ready for a night of the finest dining all on the studio credit card?”

Aelin laughs again. “Lead the way.”

He shoots her a wink and waltzes ahead to hold the door open for her.

Fenrys’ presence shouldn’t reassure her the way it does, especially after the way she has treated him but she clings to him anyway. He’s her buffer for now, a crutch for tonight and tonight only. Once tonight is over and tomorrow begins she and Rowan can be professional, they managed it for months during filming and this should be no different.

Rowan still looks the way he did the night she broke his heart.

His silver hair falls elegantly over his forehead as he bends his head to talk to Manon, the pair of them are engrossed in a conversation as she and Fenrys walk over, not spotting them yet. She loves his hair, loves the thick silver waves and the way they feel between her fingers. She loves the way any attempt he makes to arrange the thick strands is never quite able to tame the beast. She loves the shirt he has on, with the sleeves rolled up exposing inches of tanned skin and dark ink, the same worn green cotton she wore numerous times around his living room all those months ago. She can still remember the feel of it against her bare skin.

His smile is the same, his green eyes crinkling as his lips barely part as he does his best to hold it back.

His smile is the same until he spots her.

He catches sight of her when she reaches the table and his smile drops, the shutters closing over his expression so fast she wouldn’t know he knew how to smile had she not just seen it.

It tears her chest in two and any attempt at a smile on her part is futile. It’s all she can do to make it to her seat without stumbling and she’s sure she misses any other greetings she gets as she slumps onto the chair opposite Manon. She absently notes Fenrys dropping in at her side.

She can’t look away from Rowan, her eyes scanning to try and find anything that distinguishes him from the man she loved all those months ago. She finds nothing. He’s still Rowan and Aelin still… fuck.

He recovers before she does, ever the collected courtier, clearing his throat and nodding.

“Aelin,” he says and she adores the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Hi Rowan,” she manages and hears how weak she sounds. Rowan hears it too. She can tell from the purse of his lips and the tension in the hand he rests along the back of Manon’s chair.

Aelin allows her eyes to drift to Manon and she finally catches the thunderous expression the younger girl wears.

“Hi,” she whispers and Manon blinks.

“Hi?” Manon repeats incredulously.

Aelin is fucked.

“Five months and I get a hi?”

It’s loud and a few heads turn their way. It’s simultaneously mortifying and everything Aelin deserves.

“I’m sorry,” she says plainly.

She could lie, make up some useless excuses but in the end there’s nothing else but the truth and if Manon wants her to grovel she will, she’s just not sure this is the time or place.

Fenrys shares her thoughts. “Later, Manon,” he says, gently.

Rowan’s eyes stay firmly glued to the tablecloth as Manon frowns, seemingly unwilling to let it go.

After a few seconds, seconds Aelin spends waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her, Manon nods. She nods and turns to Fenrys, demanding to know what he’s ordering. And just like that Aelin has a moment to catch her breath.

She knew this dinner wouldn’t be easy, knew she’d be walking into the lion's den of her own making, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard. Hadn’t expected seeing Rowan to feel like a slap, hadn’t expected Manon’s hurt to scrape across her skin leaving her raw.

She tries not to think she deserves it, Maeve would only raise a brow as if to say we’ve been over this. The thought is sobering, and she manages to lift her head.

It is what it is, what’s done is done and she can only apologise and move forwards.

As much as she tries to resist, Aelin finds herself watching Rowan throughout the night. It’s scary how familiar he feels, he should feel like a stranger, but he feels like she knows him too well. He laughs when she expects, rolls his eyes when she predicts. He orders what she thought he would and he sips away at an orange juice the way he did the first dinner they all had together.

Aelin already feels so different than she did the last time she was in Rifthold and he seems unchanged.

She observes for most of the night, feeling drained despite her minimal contributions to the conversations. She speaks when spoken to and actively avoids speaking when Rowan does, she definitely doesn’t respond to anything he says even though she wants to at least twice and wants to laugh a couple more.

She makes it through and clings to Fenrys again as they all leave, linking her arm through his as they leave the restaurant. He knows what she’s doing but graciously guides her out of the building. Once on the pavement outside the restaurant he pauses and turns to her.

“What hotel are you staying in while you’re here?”

The rest of the group are milling about, calling taxis and bidding their farewells. Aelin doesn’t know how she’s getting back yet, she’s assuming she’ll split a ride with someone.

“Um, the Glass Castle, I think,” she says, desperately trying to recall the name of the hotel she dumped her bags in a few hours earlier.

“Boo,” Fenrys laughs, pointing his thumb down. “They’ve got me in the Torre Cesme. Think I’m ages away from you.”

Aelin laughs, disappointed but ready to order her own taxi back when a voice she didn’t expect sounds.

“I’ve just ordered a cab to the Glass Castle, I’m staying there too. You can jump in if you want.”

Rowan.

She shoots Fenrys a panicked look but his expression is pure glee.

“That would be great thanks, Boss,” Fenrys says, shrugging his arm out of hers and nudging her towards Rowan.

“No problem, Boyo.” Rowan offers Fenrys a dark grin at the nickname and the sight of it stills her. It’s new, he used to roll his eyes whenever Fenrys would drop it into conversation, but now Rowan’s playing along. And the grin, the curl of the lips and the narrowing of the eyes, it’s sexy as fuck.

It’s only taken one night and she’s back in the danger zone. She doesn’t want to be, hell, she wants him to take her back to his hotel room and peel off her clothes but this is Rowan. She’s spent the last few months trying to get over him, falling into bed with him the first night she sees him again would not likely be defined as progress.

He’s also not likely to want that after what she did.

“You don’t have to,” she says. The first direct thing she’s said to him since their greeting.

“I know.” A slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “But we’re going to the same place, it wouldn’t seem logical to take different cars.”

Logic. That’s all it is.

“Right.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so awkward with him, not even at the start. “Thank you,” she says, following him to the car.

Fenrys shoots her a grin as he slips into his own taxi. Traitor.

Rowan holds the door open for her and slips in behind her. She tries not to think anything of the fact he could have easily taken the front seat.

The ride is silent apart from the easy chit chat he makes with the driver, another thing she’s not sure she noticed him do before, and she stares out the window as the city passes by. The streets of Rifthold are not her home but she feels a brightness as she glances down the curving roads, spotting groups of people milling about enjoying the night.

She knows the first call she made to Elide in weeks was the right call. Elide is the only person she’d trust with her bank account and access to real estate listings. The link to the flat her friend had sent over has stayed open in her browser since she got it.

It’s modern with classic twists, situated in a recently renovated old warehouse with miles of exposed brick and rustic wooden panelling. She loves the master bedroom the most, with its adjoining en suite with a huge bathtub she can picture herself soaking in. She has a viewing booked in two days but doubts she’ll even need it.

It’s not long before the taxi pulls up outside the hotel and she follows Rowan through the glass doors. He presses the button for the lifts and Aelin shifts in the awkward silence.

Awkward is not something she’s used to with Rowan. Or it wasn’t before.

The doors slide open and again she follows him inside.

He pauses with a hand hovering over the buttons for the floors. “Which floor?”

“Nine.”

Aelin hates these one word exchanges compared to the hours they used to share talking about everything and nothing. She can’t believe this is the man she was so vulnerable with.

His short huff of laughter drags her gaze to his face.

“What?”

“Makes sense,” is what he says, shaking his head and pressing only the button for the ninth floor.

The ride takes seconds, a minute at most, filled with the silence between them.

When the doors open to the ninth floor she steps out, determined not to follow him again, and she feels him follow her. Even now she’s so aware of his powerful body and the way he moves it. She shouldn’t be so attracted to the power emanating from him, from the breadth of his shoulders to the sureness of his steps. She wants him, doesn’t think she ever stopped, except now he’s the forbidden fruit. Forbidden only by her own actions.

She reaches her door, room 905, but pauses with her key tucked in her hand.

“Thanks for letting me share your cab,” she says, finding herself desperate not to say goodbye yet. “I can transfer you for half.”

That finally, finally, cracks a whisper of a smile but she’s not sure she enjoys his laughter if it’s at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

That should be the end of it, she should open her door and shut it behind her, they have a few weeks ahead of them that will be hard enough without any complications.

She left him and he seems gracious enough to have mostly moved past it.

“It was good to see you, Aelin,” he says, seemingly unwilling to let the night end as well. She doesn’t let the seed of hope sprout because what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Aelin smiles, leaning back against her door.

Rowan continues, “even if I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go.”

Her attention is spiked. “What do you mean?”

She can’t lie, a part of her expects him to back down at the edge to her voice. He doesn’t.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

She blinks, giving herself a second to process.

Maybe this isn’t the same Rowan from all those months ago. That night he let her walk away from him, gods know she needed it, but a dark little part of her had wanted him to fight her harder. Fight harder for her. When he hadn’t she’d taken it as her sign.

She knows the expectation was toxic, if he had fought her it would have only pissed her off, but she wishes she’d had someone to tell her it was the wrong choice. It would have helped to hear in the moment, rather than be faced with Rowan months down the line that she wants and can’t have.

The Rowan in front of her, the third Rowan she’s known, stares her down. His eyes peel away each of the layers she’s worked with Maeve for months to don in a second.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It’s honest and maybe she’s not the same Aelin as a few months ago either.

That’s what she had asked for that night in the cool air, to move past them with as little commotion as possible, stirring up as little attention as they could. She hadn’t wanted to let them eclipse the movie and yet that ended up being exactly what she had accomplished.

Now though, Aelin knows better.

Rowan nods as his eyes dart across her face. He seems to step closer without realising. Aelin notes the motion, still so aware of him and his proximity to her.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “I was so angry at you for leaving.”

Aelin loses her breath at his confession.

Eventually she manages, “was?”

He looks away from her, glancing down the dark hallway, his jaw tight. When she’s with him she forgets about the world around them, there’s probably-definitely-CCTV in this hallway but he’s here and she can’t let him go yet.

His fists curl and uncurl as he takes a deep breath.

“Was,” he says shortly. “I was so angry at you, the way you did what you did was shit.”

Aelin swallows. He’s not wrong.

“I know.”

“But now I don’t know.” She lifts her eyes to his, swimming in the openness she doesn’t deserve. And fuck that. That is such bullshit. She meets his stare, returning all that he isn’t saying. “I spent a long time thinking about it, thinking about you, and it took me a while but now I get it.”

That hurts more than she expects. She didn’t expect him to be all over her the minute they reunited but his understanding was always a kicker.

“I know why you did it,” he continues. “And that took most of the wind out of my sails.”

Aelin frowns. He can’t possibly know why.

“I don’t think you do.” He tilts his head, an invitation for her to expand. “Or you’d know that nothing has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

His question throws her. Completely.

She tilts her head up to look at him, closer to her than he’s been all night, pushing her to keep being honest with him.

She’s dazed being this close to him again after so long, the green of his eyes stronger than she remembers. Or maybe her brain had assured her the memory of him couldn’t have been real.

“I don’t know,” she admits, unable to fight the way her body leans into him.

His teeth graze his lower lip and she follows the motion.

He’s silent for a beat too long and her skin is thrumming under his attention. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without him, she doesn’t know how she thought she’d survive never having him again.

“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says finally, drawing back and a rush of cool air fills the space he had taken. “Goodnight Aelin.”

He turns and she watches his back down the hallway. He slips easily into a room a few doors down and she’s left watching the path he’d taken, feeling the weight of his eyes on her lips.

Her head thuds against the door as she screws her eyes shut. She wants to scream, wants to chase him down the hall, wants to fly back to Orynth where she was safe.

She doesn’t do any of those things.

She tucks herself into her hotel room and readies herself for the whirlwind that’s about to hit. These next few weeks are going to be hard, not just dealing with the Rowan situation, but she can’t fight the excitement she feels.

Fuck. She’s back in Rifthold, back where she loves, doing what she was born to do.

This is big. She can feel it.

The Crescent City is not her first project, and so she’s been a part of press cycles before, she knows how they go. What she doesn’t know is how a press cycle for something like this works.

The only word she can find is insanity.

There are somehow earlier mornings than they had while shooting and often longer days. She gets poked and prodded in hair and make-up for hours before they spend all day sat in a hotel room filming repetitive interviews for various magazines.

She and Fenrys are genuinely friends and yet they still have to put on a show in front of the cameras. She plays up her laughter when he cracks a joke and he makes sure to never look away from her for longer than two seconds when she speaks or a producer behind the camera makes a comment.

She loves Fenrys but it’s exhausting. Her only blessing is that for most of her engagements she’s with Fenrys and Manon with Rowan conducting his own interviews separately as she had hoped.

Sometimes though, given their relatively similar ages and general level of chemistry, they get grouped together.

The four of them are filming a video for Buzzfeed, filling in a quiz to find out which character from The Crescent City they’re most like. She’s unsurprised to discover her result is Rhysand and it’s fun even if her heart does pound every time she has to act like she’s unfazed and friendly with Rowan.

There’s a moment, just a moment, where she almost breaks from her friendly and unbothered interview persona. It’s her turn to read the question, what item could you not survive without on a desert island?

It’s Rowan that speaks. “Her shampoo,” he says, “it’s jasmine.”

There’s a split second where she doesn’t speak, where all she can do is stare at Rowan, stunned that he remembered and thought to mention it now.

In that split second she’s transported back to memories of them together in the shower at her rented apartment, kissing lazily under the spray after spending hours between her sheets. She remembers dumping the shampoo into her hand and then onto his head, massaging his thick locks and surrounding them in the scent of jasmine.

She remembers how he kissed her neck as she did, trailing his hands over her silky curves, slick with the soap, with his kisses building in heat until her hands dropped to his shoulders. He’d lavished kisses down her chest until he’d jerked back, shampoo in his eyes and she’d laughed until he was safe and pressed his lips again to hers, continuing where he’d left off.

She’s shocked he’d bring this up when there’s a camera on the two of them and she can only imagine the comments it will spark. She’s not sure she cares if it keeps Rowan’s eyes on her.

“It’s luxurious for a reason,” she says when she recovers, tossing her thick locks over her shoulder. “Well worth it.”

She doesn’t miss the flicker in his own mask at her comment.

That kind of interaction will no doubt ignite the sparks she’d only ever wanted to avoid.

As the press cycle goes on and on, and they get closer and closer to the premiere it only becomes harder for her conviction to hold.

She tests her own argument, the clear line she drew in the sand, when she manages to keep it professional with Rowan and she’s not sure where that leaves her. She had thought they would overshadow everything about the project and now she’s not sure.

She said nothing had changed and he had challenged her.

She’s still not sure who’s in the right.

Everything is simultaneously completely new and exactly the same. Rowan is still gorgeous, still charming in his own reserved way, still almost reverent when he talks about his craft throughout interviews. He still talks with his hands and Aelin still can’t draw her eyes away from their motions, she still craves the touch of them on her skin. He’s still seven years older than her and the director of her big break.

Yet there are differences.

They’re still often on the same page, offering similar answers and backing each other up but now he never backs down from a challenge. Now he doesn’t hold back those comments she knows he was always dying to let slip. She should be annoyed, everytime he drops a line that pushes her to expand a little part of her wants to roll her eyes.

She doesn’t though. Her blood heats and her skin prickles. She loves this with him. Loves the dance they play, the teasing, verbal games that shouldn’t start her off but do. She loves the smirk he wears when they end up down that path, and she knows she wears it’s mirror image.

She always ends up squirming in her seat and it should be wrong but it isn’t. The cameras can’t see below their chests and the flush in her cheeks could easily be from the warmth of the day.

She’s beginning to wonder if she’s powerless against Rowan Whitethorn. If she’s powerless against the green of his eyes or the curl of his accent. The slant of his brows or the points of his teeth when he smiles.

She doesn’t know that it’s just one thing. It’s all of the things, it’s all of him, and more so than ever she’s completely fucked.

But they aren’t talking outside of the interviews and photoshoots, and the knowledge of which hotel room is his itches her toes every night. It would be so easy to sneak down the hall, to knock on the door and slot her lips to his when he opened.

It’s only a couple of nights before the premiere when the temptation becomes too much. She’s been around Rowan all day, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave, the notes of pine and freshness and Rowan and it’s too much. She strides down the hallway, resolved in her decision and closes her fingers over the button for the lift.

She needs to be elsewhere or she’ll make some bad decisions.

She’s come so far, survived months without him, she can’t cave due to proximity.

The hotel bar is deserted when she walks in and makes a beeline to the bartender. Yeah, maybe after her wobble at the wrap party a bar isn’t the best decision she could make but her options are limited. Trying to sleep with Rowan is, after all, probably the worst of both options.

“Just a sparkling water please,” she says to the barman who nods and returns a moment later.

“Put it on my tab.” A voice from the end of the bar.

A laugh bubbles out of her chest as she closes her fingers around her glass. Of course he’s here. She should have spotted Rowan the minute she walked in and it’s cruel that the reason she didn’t was that her thoughts were too wrapped up in him.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” she says as she walks over, her steps measured as she comes to a stop before him. Her hips swing of their own accord and his eyes dart up and down the length of her. “I can put a number of these away.”

The smile he gives her is surprisingly unguarded. It seems he’s done holding himself back too. Aelin loves it.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, nodding at the stool next to him. She obliges as he speaks again. “It’s hard to switch off sometimes.”

He’s always on the same page as she is. Aelin shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he bought her.

They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure of how to break the silence between them when one of the last things they knew was the taste of each other’s lips.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it, that one day this will just be my job, but I never do,” Aelin says eventually, tracing a fingertip through the condensation gathered on her glass.

Rowan nods, smiling softly down at the bar and taking a sip of his own drink. An orange juice as usual.

“It’s hard to sleep at the end of days like today,” he says. “It’s why I’m in here.”

The bar is dark at the late hour, and quiet with no one else in there but them and the bartender. There’s something about the late hour, the darkness and the stillness surrounding them a break from the recent rush, that feels a little bit too close. She feels a little too exposed under the weight of his gaze but she rolls her shoulders back and leans an elbow on the bar as she turns towards him.

“I thought you’d be used to all of this by now,” she says and he cocks his head.

“Why?” His question is coy, begging her to expand.

“This is not your first rodeo and all of that,” she says with a smile.

Rowan laughs softly, the sound curving around her like an embrace.

“It can still be overwhelming after your first big movie,” he says gently, but with an edge to his voice that she needs to immediately get rid of.

“I don’t doubt that,” is what she whispers and his brow seems to soften, sensing her lack of malice.

She hates the way they’re in the position where he assumes the worst of her. She has to make that change.

“I don’t think if I get to do this for the rest of my life that it would ever feel normal.”

“No,” Rowan agrees, “I don’t think it could.”

“So then we need this film to do well.” Aelin shifts on the stool, finding herself leaning closer to him without conscious thought. He doesn’t retreat. He stands his ground until they’re only inches apart. “Lest we find ourselves fading into obscurity.”

“I doubt you ever could,” he says with a laugh and it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

As he looks at her, his expression soft in the dim light, his smile holds something special for her and her chest lifts that she managed it. That he was willing to give that to her.

“My agent sent over the initial critic reviews earlier,” he says and her stomach plummets.

“And?” she demands, her voice wobbling slightly. Her confidence from a minute ago vanished.

This is the moment where she could sink, the moment this could all be over.

“And they’re good,” he almost whispers.

“Good,” she repeats and it’s not a question but he nods.

She wants to throw herself at him at the news, a couple of months ago she wouldn’t have even hesitated, but now she sits clenching her fists and trying not to smile too wide. It feels like a waste. She’ll never get this feeling again.

She turns to him and he’s smiling so she does what she’s wanted to for months. Aelin leans forwards and wraps an arm over his shoulders, pressing her chest to his.

His arms slip up slowly over her shoulders at first, unsure but gaining confidence as he tightens his grip around her, drawing her further into his chest. Aelin laughs a little, throwing her other arm around him and resting her face against his shoulder.

It’s not enough, it never could be with him, but it will do. She’s just happy he didn’t push her away.

Eventually, after a length of time that feels far too short, she pulls back to see him gazing down at her with an expression she can’t name. His brows are drawn in with his lips gently parted. He’s happy but apprehensive, open but distant. Aelin will take what she can and the distance between them has always been too far.

She wants nothing more than to close it, to draw herself into him and he into her, but she can’t. They’re here for one thing and one thing only and she refuses after what they’ve been through to mess it up again.

She knows he can read her own expression but she doesn’t care. She’ll hide from everyone and anyone but she’s realising she could never hide from him.

She wants Rowan, will probably want him for the rest of her life, but she made the call and he’s wrong, things haven’t changed.

Apart from all of the things that have.

The day of the premiere Aelin feels sick.

Her stomach twists and she tosses and turns all night and the dark circles under her eyes are brutal as a result. Her make-up artist tuts but diligently packs concealer on until Aelin looks well rested. Or as close as she can.

She’s trying not to think of the stretch of carpet she’ll have to walk tonight, a smile plastered across her face as she poses for the hundreds of cameras. Their premiere is one of the biggest of the season and, along with Fenrys, she’s the star.

She’ll have nowhere to hide.

Aelin sits in front of her mirror, her hair and make-up are done but she’s yet to get dressed. She takes herself in, making sure to note every strand of hair to every line of her lips, feeling as though she needs to remember this moment. The moment before it all explodes.

They’ve been building to this for almost a year now and this is as close to a culmination as she’ll get.

Her dress is something fierce. Endless, flowing velvet in the darkest shade of black. Long sleeves and a fitted bodice with an almost indecent dip in the back. The dress would be modest without that cut out, she can’t wear any underwear it dips so low.

It would be a simple dress, some might even dare to say boring, if it weren’t for the back. The majority of the fabric that remains is covered in gold embroidery taking the form of a dragon, coiled to strike. Aelin adored the dress the moment her stylist revealed it to her. She didn’t consider any of the other dresses, didn’t even acknowledge them as options.

The dress is what she needs, something strong, something to help her hold her head up high. She can walk the red carpet and stare down every single person who doubted her and know that they were wrong.

Aelin doesn’t need their approval. She doesn’t need the reassurance of faceless commenters, she doesn’t need the support of the magazines and the newspapers. She doesn’t need her mother’s approval. On anything.

Aelin is confident and self-assured and she can walk the red carpet knowing that.

Her sessions with Maeve have helped to reassure her stance, but she’s realising day by day she’s known it all along. It’s just taken a little bit of digging to uncover it.

She slips into her dress and it slides on like a second skin. She takes in her appearance, the arch of her brow and the red smirk of her lips makes her look intriguing, like a confident young woman.

Aelin was born to be an actress but she’s proud to say the sight in the mirror is real.

She poses for a few photos before she’s led out of her room and into the car, waiting to take her to the theatre.

She spends the ride in silence, barely listening to the jabbering of the aide in the car with her, and she focuses her thoughts on the calm before the storm. She takes deep breaths and centres herself the way Maeve has taught, she knows this could so easily be overwhelming but she’s determined to enjoy it.

The car stills and she can hear the noise of the crowd outside. She takes a final deep breath and allows her lips to spread into a smile. This one is genuine, nothing forced about it, and she pauses for one last beat.

This is big and Aelin is ready.

The car door opens and the sound hits her like a wave, slamming down onto her and it's so loud she can hardly think.

This is it. This is the moment she has dreamed of.

The nights where this image was all she could cling to to make it through could never have compared to how it feels standing here now, screams of her own name wrapping around her and urging her on.

Her steps are slow and purposeful as she glides down the path forged for her, the red carpet beneath her stilettos is plush and bright. She pauses where she’s instructed, rolling her shoulders back and smirking at the cameras with a hand on her hip.

She knows she looks incredible and the shouts of the photographers do nothing to change her mind. They are here for her, they’re all here for what she has accomplished, along with Fenrys, Manon, Chaol and Rowan and everyone else involved.

There are so many forces upon her, the flashing of the lights, the screams and shouts calling her name or Fenrys’, the magnitude of what this is could knock down a lesser individual but all it does is raise Aelin up.

She’s been through worse than this and survived, she’ll stare down the lense of all of these cameras, of everyone who has ever spoken her name and she won’t cower, she won’t just survive. She’ll thrive.

A warm hand lands on her waist and somehow the flashes of the cameras explode.

“Hey, golden girl.” Fenrys’ words are almost hard to hear even though his lips brush her ear. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin wraps her arm around his back and grins, “I thought I’d at least show my face.”

He returns her smile and together they pose for the cameras, their shoulders back and smiles confident. She’s not sure this could be better.

Until she turns slightly to her left and gets flashes of silver where she and Fenrys are gold.

Rowan and Manon, posing for their own pictures mere metres away. He looks spectacular, the deep black of his tuxedo doing nothing but bringing out the depth of his tan and the shine of his silver hair.

He’s smiling his public smile and it’s gorgeous even though it’s not her favourite of his smiles, she loves the private ones he used to save just for her, and her own smile falters at the sight.

She’s here with Fenrys and it’s not wrong but it doesn’t feel right. The arm around her waist shouldn’t belong to Fenrys.

She should be where Manon is, smiling up at Rowan while they marvel at what they’ve accomplished. She knows her smile has dropped and she fumbles for anything to plaster onto her expression other than the longing she feels for Rowan.

As if she’d called his name he turns to her, green colliding with blue, and she knows he feels the same.

And that hurts far more than all of the months they spent apart.

All the months she spent hurting, trying to deny what she always knew, trying to pretend that they were anything other than a force of nature. They had been an eclipse, threatening to over take all of this but she was wrong. Rowan was wrong too.

It doesn’t matter whether everything or nothing has changed because she wasn’t right in the first place.

She should have known better than to think that whatever flimsy decision she made could halt what they were, what they should be.

She can only hope he forgives her. She can only hope he feels the same.

But the thing about this new Rowan is that she can’t read him the way she used to read her Rowan, she can’t tell if the way he steels himself and turns away from her is a dismissal or if the look they shared had been just as painful for him as it had been for her.

“A masterpiece.” - Rifthold Reporter

“Fenrys Moonbeam shines alongside Aelin Ashryver in The Crescent City. See our full review here.” - Wyrd Stone

“Latest Rowan Whitethorn flick smashes Box Office records.” - Valg Weekly

“Unapologetic, daring and thought provoking. Award nominations expected to follow for The Crescent City.” - Terrasen Tribune

Her phone has not stopped buzzing for the past four days.

Dorian texts every waking hour with the updates he gets, the numbers coming in and all her latest offers. It’s surreal. She knew they were good but she’s not sure she ever really expected this. Aedion texts her a picture every time he sees or hears her name, it should be terrifying the frequency with which he texts her but she has to fight back her smile each time he does.

She managed to find an hour the night before to call Lysandra and the majority of their call had consisted of Aelin repeatedly asking what the fuck was happening while Lysandra cackled down the phone.

She’d even got a text from Lorcan. It was alright, he’d written. Followed by, I hope I die before ever having to watch you make out with someone like that again.

She’d sent three middle finger emojis and a kissy face in response.

Now is probably not the best time to move to a different country but she’d signed her name on the papers two days before the premiere and Rifthold is calling, irrespective of the fact she’s only been back in Orynth for two days.

Most of her stuff headed out yesterday with the moving company leaving Aelin with two suitcases to fly back to Rifthold with tomorrow.

There’s one last place she needs to go before she heads back to finally get a good night's sleep before her flight tomorrow. She’s never set foot in this graveyard before, she’s never had the courage to dare before, but she’s emboldened. By the success of the movie, by her progress in the past year, by her sessions with Maeve. This has felt like a natural step.

The shining, black headstone is understated and classy and completely to his taste.

Sam Cortland. Beloved son and brother, taken far too soon.

Aelin waits with her head bowed, allowing all of her emotions to rush through her veins. She doesn’t fight them, it would be pointless to try, and she embraces the tears that gather. Eventually she steps forwards, placing the smooth, small stone on the crest of the headstone.

She rests her hand on the cool stone for a moment before sinking down and crossing her legs beneath her as she leans against it.

“I’ve missed you,” she says aloud, “I can almost hear you telling me to stop being such a sappy shit. I can’t help it, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

She pauses, letting the wind drift through the field sweeping her words away.

There’s no one else here but her and Sam, no one else she’d want to hear her confession.

“I wonder what you would have made of all this. I think you’d tell me to enjoy it all, to not miss a moment, and I’m not. I’m just choosing the ones I want to savour. And this is one of them, Sam. I wish you’d been there with me, you would have loved it, the cameras, the lights, everything.

“I have to keep pinching myself to know it’s real, I did it, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”

She sighs, letting her head tip back to rest against the stone. She didn’t prepare anything to say, didn’t realise she’d even want to speak to the open air but here she is.

“I’m not the same Aelin as the girl you knew anymore,” she says after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think I would have the capacity to love again after you but I did, and I feel terribly guilty that I do. I have to remind myself that this is what you would have wanted, you would have wanted me to be happy.”

The silence in the field is more than an answer enough. So typically Sam to give her an answer without so much as speaking a word.

“I was happy,” she says, trailing a fingertip along the words etched into the stone. “I will be again.”

A faint haze of sunlight drifts through the Orynth autumn clouds, a whisper compared to the chorus of brightness she misses in Rifthold, and she stands, brushing off the dirt from her jeans. She touches the stone one last time before turning and heading out of the graveyard.

Her visit was years overdue but her chest didn’t crack open the way she had expected, the tears hadn’t been relentless the way she had expected. She’ll visit him again the next time she’s back in Orynth, probably visiting Elide and Lorcan for Yulemass, and she’ll visit again and again for as long as she lives.

But for now, she has a plane to catch.

Months later and two days before the Oscars, when they’re all back in town for the ceremony held in her new home city of Rifthold, Fenrys throws another party.

She’s managed, this time, to stay in touch with Fenrys and Manon, having made up with the younger girl before the press cycle had finished. Aelin knows her upset was real but partly suspects the animosity was a front. She even finds herself participating in the group chat with the three of them and Rowan. She’s only texted him one to one once to wish him a happy birthday and they had caught up briefly but not texted since.

She’s missed him in a different way to the last time she missed him. This time missing him doesn’t feel necessary, it feels wrong not to text him, wrong to be away from him and she’s itching to see him again.

It’s no one's birthday this time but they’re all together again to celebrate, no matter the results they’ll see in two days. Aelin is very carefully measuring her excitement about her own nomination for best actress. Fenrys is up for best actor, Rowan best director and the movie best picture.

She’d almost dropped her phone in the toilet when she found out from Dorian a few weeks ago.

The party is small but still in full swing by the time she arrives. Big names from the industry, all in town for the ceremony, are scattered all around Fenrys’ Rifthold apartment. He’d bought a place here not long after Aelin and she’s secretly relieved she’s not the only one so moved by their experience.

She waves to a few people she knows and tries to stay calm when she spots Sartaq Khagan in the corner chatting away to a small group of people. Holy shit Fenrys has some famous friends.

Aelin finds herself a glass, tops her orange juice off with a splash of lemonade and begins her rounds. So many more people want to talk to her after the movie dropped.

Her mother had been one of them, and Aelin’s thumb had hovered over the accept button for a moment before decidedly pressing decline. She had blocked her mother’s number a moment later, and then she had made some calls closing the bank account her mother kept topped up and arranging for every penny she’d ever received from Evalin Ashryver to be paid back.

It had hurt, emotionally and financially, especially in the month she’d moved to Rifthold, but it had been worth it. To never let Evalin pass any judgement over her life again was a relief worth any cost. Aelin’s hoping there’s a possibility she could end up with a reward.

She doesn’t know how long she spends talking to big name after big name and it’s a realisation that drops onto her that she fits in here. Aelin Ashryver is a big name. No matter the outcome of the ceremony she has prospects, already a number of projects lined up and she’s loving every minute of it.

She drains her cup for the third time tonight and heads back into the kitchen. She’s barely seen Fenrys all night, and she doesn’t even know if Manon is here.

She frowns into the fridge, there was definitely a full bottle of orange juice in here the last time she topped herself up. She shuts the fridge and spins around.

“Looking for this?”

She should have known.

Rowan looks predictably gorgeous in the dim kitchen lighting. All tanned skin and silver smiles. He’s dressed in her favourite look of his too, worn denim jeans and a soft cotton shirt.

It’s the softness in his gaze that really takes her though, it seems the animosity from the last time they saw each other has faded if not disappeared. Her chest squeezes at the thought. She has no idea what could have triggered it but she will take it.

“Nope,” she says, stepping over to where he stands with an arm braced against the counter at his side, the other holding out a bottle of orange juice. “I was hoping Fenrys would have some chocolate in there but I guess this will have to do.”

She takes the bottle from him, her fingertips brushing his and she feels her cheeks heat at the innocent brush.

His smile is genuine and she knows what he’s remembering because she’s thinking of it too. The first time she visited his house during filming and their moment in the kitchen. They’ve been through cycles, she supposes, but hopefully now for the better.

“I’m sure we can find you some somewhere in here,” he says as she fills her cup, pulling open the cupboard next to his head.

Aelin smirks. “I’m going to leave the rummaging through Fenrys’ cupboards to you. You could find anything in there.”

Rowan winces, closing the door before returning her smile. This is friendly and the hope that’s been planted in her chest begins to sprout.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Aelin pauses for a moment, taking in the glory of him in front of her. He’s still Rowan, he’s still tall and deliciously broad. His silver hair is slightly more grown out and there are a couple more lines around his eyes but she doesn’t care, in fact it’s charming. He’s still and always will be stunning. She takes a sip of her drink before she takes one of her biggest risks so far.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, not daring to look away from his face.

He bites his lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before he speaks. “I’ve missed you too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all too telling but he’s smiling too so she doesn’t think it matters. He definitely feels the same and she’d be annoyed at the months she spent worrying but the relief is too sweet.

“Good,” is what she says, far too happy they’re here to bother with pretending she’s anything other than ecstatic. “Congrats on your nomination.”

His eyes dart to the floor and then back up at her, he’s too modest about his own skill and Aelin adores it. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you too.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.”

“Me neither,” Rowan says.

He’s close to her now, closer than he has been to her for months and her skin cries out for contact. She almost can’t believe she’s here now, talking to Rowan without any animosity, days before the Oscars that she’s nominated in.

The smile that takes over her face is completely of its own accord. She’s floating and it seems Rowan is too if the beat they share, exchanging incredulous smiles, is anything to go by.

“It’s crazy, right?”

She’s been asking herself the question for so long it seems only natural it slips out to him.

He laughs softly, and the rough sound curls straight to her core.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his voice low. “I don’t think last time felt like this.”

Aelin slaps a gentle hand to his chest and ignores the thrill that shoots through her at the eventual contact. “I get it, this is not your first nomination.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and she didn’t know how much she missed this, playing with him. She adores his reaction every time, the begrudging amusement he only lets shine through to make her smile.

“Some of us have never been nominated before, this is all completely new.” Aelin takes a sip of her drink. “I had to give up my social media accounts to Elide, it got so crazy.”

Something flickers over Rowan’s face at her comment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting across his face trying to decipher the expression. “She’s always had access and I still do so I can post if I want to but it just became a lot. It stopped being fun when I would see what people were saying, whether it was good or bad I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Rowan nods before his eyes lock onto hers, the intensity in his expression shreds her control.

“And you said nothing had changed?”

Aelin gets it now.

She shifts her weight, leaning as close to him as she can without sliding herself completely into the circle of his arms. “I was wrong. Lots of things have changed,” she says, her voice quiet but strong. “And lots of things are now right that weren’t before.”

She doesn’t mean to skirt around the truth, hiding in veiled words and double meanings, but as always, Rowan sees her. He sees her meaning and he smiles. It’s the most beautiful smile Aelin has ever seen him wear.

“I’ve been looking for you two.”

Fenrys bursts into the kitchen, startling Aelin back from Rowan. She hides her guilty smile in her drink and notices Rowan doing the same. Fenrys just grins, clearly enjoying whatever he thinks he’s seeing.

“You’re missing out, we’re playing kings in the living room if you want to join?”

Rowan glances at her before he turns back to Fenrys. “I think we’re good, thanks.”

Fenrys’ smile turns smug and Aelin resists the temptation to flip him off. She’s in too good of a mood to be annoyed at him.

“Okay, see you later, lovebirds,” Fenrys says, already on his way back out of the door.

Aelin pretends she isn’t blushing as she turns back to Rowan, his green eyes shining.

“This might sound crazy,” he says with an alluring tilt to his lips, “but do you want to get out of here?”

She’s reached a point she truly never thought she would.

She’s an Oscar-nominated lead actress in a box-office-record-breaking movie.

She’s happy, healthy and out from underneath the thumb of Evalin Ashryver.

The part that’s most uplifting, the part that has her unable to wipe the smile off her face as she strolls down the streets of Rifthold, is the arm she has tucked through Rowan’s.

They’ve been walking for a little while, enjoying the cool night air and the ease with which they managed to sneak out of Fenrys’ party. Her heels are killing her and Rowan very graciously offers her an arm to lean on and each time she takes a step in time with him she smiles.

“I never thought I’d like doing television,” he says.

She didn’t know he’d taken on a miniseries, similar to the one she’d done after filming, but she’s loving the recap she’s getting of the months they’ve been apart. The chill of the air is more than fought off by the warmth of Rowan by her side. The streets are mercifully empty and she can bask in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here, that they’re insignificant, that anyone who sees them will immediately dismiss them.

“I always thought I’d stick to movies, singular stories but I enjoyed it. I guess change can be good.”

Aelin laughs softly and squeezes his arm. He looks down to her, a question written in the slant of his brow.

“Change can definitely be good,” she says as she takes in the sights of the skyscrapers surrounding them. “I would know that I suppose.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought a flat recently.”

“You did?”

He’s so graciously giving her the floor to say what she needs to say and she holds his arm even tighter.

“It’s right here in Rifthold.” Aelin avoids his gaze, lest he think it’s a speedy invitation and that that’s all this is. “I bought it just after we were back here for press, I realised that I adore Rifthold and being here. I missed it when I wasn’t here and I don’t feel there’s anything holding me in Orynth anymore.”

Rowan laughs softly, his feet scuffing the floor.

“What?” she demands.

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says and she feels a smile creep onto her face. “I bought a loft here too.”

Aelin gasps. “But your house was gorgeous!”

Rowan’s smile twists as he looks away from her. “I didn’t say I sold the house.”

Aelin cackles as she squeezes his arm, the sound joyous and bright as it echoes around them. “I knew being Mr Big-Name-Director has its perks.”

“It does,” he agrees with a smirk.

Aelin wants to kiss that smirk. Wants to pull him down and twist her fingers through his hair as his own tangle along her skin.

Instead she says, “I copied you somewhat too.”

He only raises a brow.

“I bought a piano like the one in your house. It was too big for my old flat in Orynth and so I knew what I had to do.”

“That’s good,” he says as his arm drops out of hers. She almost pouts until he instead tangles their fingers together. Her smile says it all, reflected back in his own. “You play beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks are glowing. “You’ll have to come over and I’ll play for you sometime, neighbour.”

“I’d love to.”

Aelin slows, using the hand tangled with his to pull him to a stop too. Her free hand trails a gentle path up his chest before coming to rest at his collar, her fingertips tracing the golden skin peeking out from his shirt. His free hand finds her waist.

They’re close, closer than they have been in such a long time when he speaks.

“I don’t know what you think has or hasn’t changed.” His hand leaves hers to cup her cheek. “But I still feel the way I used to about you.”

Her heart takes off, pounding within her chest.

“I do too, Rowan.” Some of the easiest words she’s ever said to him. There’s something about the way the streetlights shine through the silver tips of his hair and the way his calloused fingers feel between hers that she’s feeling brave. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

His eyes flicker across her face as his smile dawns, taking over his face as he smiles so brightly. This is all she’s ever wanted, to have a Rowan like this, with pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You love me?”

“I do. To whatever end.”

His lips are barely a whisper from hers and she only acknowledges the thought that they’re in public for long enough to realise she doesn’t care.

“And I love you.”

His words are simple, but sweet. They wash over her and settle into her skin as his lips land on hers. He kisses her with what she can only describe as love. His lips pour devotion onto her and his hands light a fire inside her as he tastes her tongue.

They kiss for longer than she can keep a track of, wrapped up together illuminated only by the street lighting. She’s missed this, missed him, and she can’t help but feel right when his hands are on her. She can’t help but feel right as she stretches onto her toes to throw herself into his kiss.

This was never wrong, this was one of the first things she knew was right.

She loves him and he loves her and nothing and nobody else matters.

She doesn’t win the Oscar, and neither does Rowan. Fenrys does and she screams herself hoarse cheering him on as he makes his way to the stage.

The moment that takes the cake is when The Crescent City takes best picture. She takes to the stage with some of her best friends to recognise what they achieved together and maybe she is a soppy shit but she definitely cries. Fenrys laughs at her and Manon grins but Rowan just throws his arm around her shoulders and it's worth it.

Afterwards, she logs into her Instagram account for the first time in a long time. She posts a picture of Rowan looking absolutely delicious with his tux unbuttoned and his bow tie hanging untied around his neck with a greasy burger in one hand and hers in his other.

Posting him is a statement but she doesn’t care. In fact, she wants the world to know. She wants the world to know that nobody does it like he does. Nobody does it like they do.

#rowaelin #nobody does it like you do #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #rowaelin au #ndilyd #i cant believe it's the last part of this fic #crazy #hope you all enjoyed

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can I request a minho smut where y/n and minho are boxing partners and theres that sort of tension at every practice you know? And the boys keep telling you he likes you but you dont listen and theres pining and then finally at that one practice he makes a move and that leads to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I love your writing so much and I think you're absolutely great🥺

ANON I love the way that your brain works I’m losing my MIND over this one. oh my gosh and I’ve been dying to write some minho so this has given me the best excuse!!! also thank you so much lovely! It makes me feel all fuzzy inside knowing that ya like my writing! and you’re great was well anon ;)

pinned | reader x minho |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: boxer!minho, boxer!reader, boxer au, pining!minho ahhhh, skz side characters, friends to lovers, growing feelings, minho is whipped for the reader, praising, sexual tension, oral (r & m receiving), marking, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!), soft shower sex

Word count: 4.2k

“Again! Minho, watch your footing, you’re tripping all over yourself.”

Seungmin threw a towel in the general direction of your sparring partner who nearly missed it flying at his head. Beads of sweat waterfalled down his forehead, and it got stuck in his scalp, turning his hair into strands.

“Getting tired?” You jested as Jeongin tightened up your gloves.

He smirked out a little, “Tired? I’m just getting started.”

“You’re losing your edge Lee Minho. I’ve knocked you down at least four times already.” Jeongin helped you by squirting water into your mouth. The cool drops felt heavenly falling down your neck.

“Distracted then?” Hyunjin whipped his disheveled blond hair into a hair tie. “Something on your mind?”

In one sweep, Minho ruffled up his own hair with the fabric of the towel “Distracted? No--”

“Listen Minho, I know that I’m not looking the most glamorous right now but you should get your head back in it, I’m barely breaking a sweat.” You shoved him a little with your gloved hand, handing out a teasing grin.

Your partner bounced a little in place, shaking out his limbs. “Alright...”

Any other day, it would have been Minho who had you stumbling down to the mat, breathless and muscles aching. It was always a mystery to you where he got his stamina from when he was in the ring with you. Outside of the ring, no one could have ever guessed that boxing was his pastime--the giveaway was his knuckles: they were nearly always bruised.

You had met Minho and the rest of your friends nearly a year ago when you joined the gym, just looking for something new to try. Seeing as you and Minho were nearly the same size, it made sense for the two of you to be partners. Even though he was quiet around you, he would always put up a fight. Beating him for once was exciting. When you were the one standing, it felt good, admittedly. The little rush to your head when his body hit the floor was too exciting to ignore. You could really get used to the way that he would stare back up at you, lip quivering just slightly and his abs seizing under his shirt. It was cute almost, you had thought, when you saw the way that his expression would soften underneath you.

Jeongin waved you over to strap your head gear back on with a tiny cringe. “As your friend, I’m gonna tell you that you stink...rather than not saying anything about it.”

Your gloved hand mimed a punch to his face. “Thanks for the info. I’m hitting the showers after this.”

The rest of your little group gathered near to the edge of the ring, towel drying themselves of their own sweat and shadow boxing the air around their fists.

“I’ve been watching from over there...damn Y/n…” Changbin sauntered up, throwing his jump rope over his shoulder. “You’re really improving.”

“I had a good teacher, handsome.” You clicked out a little salute to him.

“Ahhh, stop flattering me.”

“Let’s start.” Minho butted in while he popped in his mouth guard.

“Hands up!” Seungmin called.

The burning of your hamstrings had told you that you were nearing your limit for the day, but nothing felt better than chasing your victory over him once more. In his eyes, he held a darker kind of confidence this time: it clouded his eyes which narrowed. When he would focus, Minho seemed to inspect every single part of your body like he was planning exactly where he wanted to hit first. His eyes would dance around your frame for just a few seconds, then he would know your first move.

Want me to go easy on you this time? You jested under the plastic of your mouth guard.

His right fist hooked directly at you before you had registered it, colliding right with the foam of your headgear. He had hit you with such a force that it felt as if he had shook your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Hands!” Changbin growled from the sidelines, and you did as you were told.

In a couple ways, boxing was like dancing, except you were trying not to get all wrapped up in your partner’s arms. The goal was to prevent him from touching you, so your feet would bounce and skip around him in circles, never letting his steps dominate you. With every twist of your bodies, they would interact with the other, it was all give and take. Perhaps like dancing, the tension between you was tangible, but instead of harmony, there was a dissonance.

Minho swung at you to your right, and you bobbed your head in response. As you chased him back, the plastic blue under your feet would crinkle. Your hands never left the cover of your face only until the few milliseconds when you would make a swing of your own. Had he bopped a second too late, you would have given him proper payback for how hard he had punched at your face.

Seungmin barked out more combos for the two of you to battle in attempting first. It really was like the perfect dance: every time that one of you would swing, the other would float around it.

“Get a hit in! Quit playing with him!” Changbin chuckled from the sidelines.

“Minho! Come on!” Hyunjin spurred his friend on.

As he would, Minho’s curious eyes focused back down on you again, scattering around while he calculated out some kind of invisible equation as he inched you toward the edge of the ring.

“Slip! Slip!” Changbin grabbed onto the bouncing ropes of the ring and Minho hooked into your side.

You twirled your body out past him, letting his punches meet the side of the ring. Your motion had caught him off guard once you had escaped his attempt to pin you.

Now he was the one that was pinned.

In his excitement, Changbin bounced up and down, “JAB JAB!!”

Minho’s focus faded after you had squatted and carried out your swing to his side, and another to his arms covering his face.

“Your stance! Minho!” Seungmin gasped as Minho tripped himself to the ground.

The rest of the group leapt into the air, hollering into the echoey and concrete space.

Minho’s body hit the ground with a thud. His gloved hands became clumsy as he tried to brace himself, and his face was cleanly met with the blue mat.

Your victory was short lived once you saw the way that his eyes wrinkled upon his fall.

“You okay?”

“--Fine.” His words winced through his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeongin bunny hopped into the ring to undress the velcro of your gloves and headgear.

“Don’t lie to me Minho, you can’t lie about these kinds of things.”

“I said that I’m fine.”

Your free hands helped him to his feet. “Have Chan look you over ‘kay? I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to hit that hard...”

Minho shook out his wetted hair once he was free of his headgear. “Stop apologizing. I’m gonna head to the showers.”

Without another word, he slipped under the ropes, hunched a little as he tossed his tape away.

Hyunjin handed you your water which you took thankful gulps of. “Do you think that he’s mad at me?”

“No. It’s not your fault.”

“My fault?”

Hyunjin shrugged with a little smirk. “He’s doing it to himself.”

“Doing what??”

“Boxing knock all the logic out of you? Are you seeing okay?” Hyunjin waved his hand in front of your eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Ahhhh Y/n...silly little Y/n. How many times do I need to tell you?”

“No...this isn’t about that again is it?”

You guzzled down more water and were just a little tempted to flick some of it over on Hyunjin’s unrealistically gorgeous face. Anything but this again.

Changbin threw a white towel at you. “It’s honestly comical at this point.”

“Not you too.” You rolled your eyes.

“He’s literally fucking falling over himself for you and you still don’t see it.”

“I’m not seeing anything because there isn’t anything to see.”

“I can’t believe you.” Changbin and Hyunjin exchanged equally unimpressed eyerolls.

“You said it yourself ‘Bin, I’m getting better. All this practice and I can finally beat him. Why aren't you celebrating with me Mr. “I’m-The-Best-Boxing-Teacher-You-Will-Ever-Meet-Or-Know?” If, if he’s got a thing for me, why hasn’t he said anything?”

Changbin sighed out. “I don’t know, I don’t know how the hell he works. No one really does. He isn’t really the sharing type.”

“You ask him.” Hyunjin announced point blank. “If you’re so skeptical, ask him.”

An unwanted heat assaulted your cheeks. “I’m not--”

“--Oh my god, are you scared to ask? ~Mmm-how unlike you~” Hyunjin patted your head like you were a little dog. His eyes widened. “Are you saying that you feel--”

“--You know what! I’m going to hit the showers too. I’m a mess. Don’t hang around.”

“It never hurts to ask!” Hyunjin called after you, giggling a little in his own teasing way.

“There’s nothing to ask!”

(( ))

“Lock up when you’re done!” Chan’s voice rang through the empty hall of the gym, flicking off a couple lights behind him.

The green-white fluorescent lights above you buzzed with an insect-like ring and flickered every view seconds. Up high on the concrete walls, opened horizontal windows were cracked, letting in the humidity of the summer night, and carried in the sound of crickets singing their nighttime ode. The dark corners of the room seemed perilous compared to the single ring that was lit just for the two of you.

“Minho, I’m exhausted, how much longer do you plan on staying?” Your punch mitts fell to your sides.

“Just a little while longer. I’ve just felt...kinda out of it this week. I could use the extra practice.” His eyes shied, “I appreciate you staying after.”

“Let's just get this over with.” You raised your mitts in front of your face, holding your ground.

Minho huffed out a determined breath, then swung at them with all his might. The sound of the tight fabric patted through the room. His eyes didn’t meet yours for several minutes, his pure focus on each carry though of his arms sent little shock waves to your wrists. Time ticked past on the particularly loud clock nailed to the walls and caged in a little metal grid.

Rather than striking up a conversation like you would, Hyunjin’s voice taunted over and over in your mind like a curse.

“It never hurts to ask!”

Minho stepped back, catching his breath. “I think I’m good now.”

“Great!” You snapped your thoughts back to the moment. “I’m gonna wash off before I head out...you?”

“Probably. The water at my place as been fucking freezing lately, I swear that my landlord is a criminal.”

“Oh...sorry about that.”

“ ‘t’s fine. I’m talking with him tomorrow.”

“I’ll head in with you then…”

(( ))

Chan’s gym had a propensity for having facilities that were usually slightly off-- the automatic lights being one of them. If it wasn’t for more of the high-set windows, it would have been pitch black in the locker room, but the nearly full waxing moon filled the whole room with brilliant silver light. Among the metal of the lockers and the porcelain sinks, the room seemed to be bathed in a bluish tint.

“He’s really gotta get the lights fixed.” You said aloud, merely just trying to say anything to fill the quiet of the room.

“Add it to the list.” Minho breathed out a snicker. “That fourth sink hasn’t worked in weeks.”

“Really?”

The two of you had made some sort of unspoken rule being in the room together: backs turned, not daring to look at the other while you undressed, somehow it seemed like the respectful thing to do. The cold tiles met your bare feet, and your damp skin met the cool air. Suddenly the warmth of the shower sounded like the most enticing thing you could imagine.

Minho’s presence behind you intrigued you sneakily, thoughts pervaded your mind that you hadn’t expected.

Hyunjin had almost asked you if you had feelings for Minho. What would you have said?

You pulled your towel over your body, tucking it in place. “I...I wanted to apologize for the other day. I got too cocky. I shouldn’t have jabbed you that hard, and on your side. That wasn’t...fair of me.”

“I said before, drop it.”

You turned, and the sight of him nearly startled you. You had never totally imagined what he looked like under those white shirts that would cling to his sweating body, but it was nothing like this.

Minho’s back was magnificently sculpted and his shoulder blades curved and poked out from under his skin almost a bit like wings. The curve of his spine traced down his back in a perfect line, and it arched a little as he twisted his body around. Two little dimples peppered right above his waist. Close to his ribs, a little purple mark faded into the pale of his skin.

“I-is that…”

You advanced closer. In the blue light of the room, your eyes couldn’t make out what it was, but you suspicion twisted knots into your stomach.

Minho jumped a little seeing how close you had drawn to him after not hearing your silent footsteps.

“Is that...a bruise? Did I bruise you?”

Panic set in Minho’s eyes. “--No! No, that’s from a couple weeks or so ago, some stupid accident, I can’t really remember.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded.

“Well...if you’re lying, I’ll--”

“--What, punch me again like that?”

Minho’s smiling eyes crinkled up slightly and you felt yourself met lightly into them: his smile was something that you knew you had always found to be adorable. Seeing him like this brought memories of him on the mat, flat on his back, those same eyes looking up at you in his awe.

“Haha. Funny. No, I won’t hit you.”

“Good. That did hurt though.”

“...sorry.”

Water dripped from a sink somewhere, and Miho’s hand lingered on his locker door.

“I haven’t hurt you before...have I?”

“You?” In your confusion, your brows scrunched together. “Not that I can remember I think. I know that it looks really dramatic when I fall but--”

“--I don’t want to hurt you either, you know right?”

“It’s just boxing, Minho, it’s not too serious, I know that you’re not like, out to get me or whatever.”

Under the silver-blue moonlight, Minho’s pale skin seemed illuminated. “Hmm.” He sighed.

When he faced you, you could see his pronounced collarbones and the way that his arms stretched out the muscles underneath. Never would you have imagined him to look this breathtaking. You chalked it up to being tired, but creeping little thoughts wove around your brain, whispering tantalizing ideas.

Silently, you wondered what he would feel like under the touch of your fingers. Every single curve of his body you wanted to trace, just to see where they would lead. You hadn’t noticed, but Minho had watched you as your eyes journeyed over him, just as his eyes had done countless times to you before.

You held his eyes tentatively with Hyunjin’s words on your tongue. “Minho, can I ask--”

Minho’s answer was hastily given to you in the form of him clambering his lips into yours while he drew you into his bare chest; he was much warmer than had imagined. There was something frighteningly intimate about the both of you meeting in a tangle of skin and lips; the heat of his chest and yours mixing. He had kissed you so suddenly that you seemed to stumble over your own lips deciding if you wanted to kiss him back. While he was needy, the way in which he ran his lips over yours was more caring than fleeting and impulsive. He knew exactly what he was doing as he gave into the magnetism drawing him into you.

Your partner’s hands cascaded down your back, drawing little squiggles down your spine, causing your legs to buckle slightly. He flooded your mouth with his kisses, each one more searing than the last, each one desperate to tell you what his words couldn’t. At last, you let your shocked body return to him, kissing him back. The moment that you did so, he shuddered into you, clawing lightly at your back. The tiniest “oh” from his lips moaned into your mouth and he shifted to tangle his hands up close to your scalp, drawing you even nearer to him.

He murmured onto you, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve had to hold myself back.”

It was the slick of his tongue running over your bottom lip that sent you spiraling for him. Just as you had wanted, you let your hands traverse all around his chest and his back, following the lines in his body as if they were a treasure trail to something that you could barely comprehend. Your touches on his skin turned his breaths into unsteady little whimpers that traipsed in between your mixing of lips and heated exhales.

“Mm-please...come with me?”

(( ))

Condensation had gathered heavily upon the deep green tiles of the shower wall while it too dissipated up into the air of the dimly lit bathroom. Swirls of the white wisps entangled around you and you breathed them heavily into your lungs. Under the warmth of the water, your body felt perfectly at ease: your aching muscles too revealed in the feeling that the heat brought, and Minho’s kneading hands worked at every knot in your body while he touched everywhere he could...as if he was starving for it. Handfuls of your skin filled up his greedy palms.

“You’re so beautiful. Everything about you...I’ve always wanted to tell you…” Minho kissed down your neck lapping at your nerves and disrupting the trailing of water down your body. “You-you make it so hard for me.”

“Hard to do what?”

“You’re irresistible.”

Minho’s words escaped from his lips like fresh honey while you were left to melt under them. After being so quiet around you, you felt yourself a fool to have ignored everything that was in front of you; and for being as stubborn as you were.

Further down your body, Minho let his hands fall down your own chest, ghosting his fingers over your nippes. The softest touches from his hands made your buds harden instantly, and your arousal pooled obviously within your sex. To steady yourself, you had thrown your arms over his shoulders and scratched at the combination of water and strings of muscles on his back.

“I-I should have listened, Minho...I’m-mm-so sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” He broke for a moment to catch your gaze. “Can I show you? Can I show you how much you drive me absolutely crazy?”

Minho coupled his words with the scrape of his nails down your arms. Every touch that he gave you was needy and testing. You set yourself giddy a bit thinking of how he must have imagined this very moment countless times.

Your hot breath tickled the wet skin of his neck where you returned his kisses. “You can do whatever you want.”

With your permission, Minho’s body appeared to tighten. Where he had pinned you against the wall, his painfully hard member dripped out his eager pre-cum, and throbbed against your belly. Your mind ran free thinking of the ways that you would show him attention as well.

“Mm-tell me to stop and I will, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Minho let his kisses waterfall next to the flowing water down your skin farther and farther until he had hovered over your own sex which had grown painfully swollen waiting for his touch.

In the silver moonlight, Minho’s brown eyes glistened while he looked up at you, teasing you with his tongue, never granting you the full satisfaction. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile seeing how you reacted to his agonizingly slow lapping.

“~Y/n~” He sang, “You taste so good.”

“More…” You pathetically pleaded. “Stop-stop teasing me...Minho.”

He did as he was told, granting you more of his mouth, and sucking steadily and purposefully as you grinded into his mouth for even more. Minho reached behind you to grab out handfuls of your ass in his hands, lovingly kneading the skin at the same time. Water droplets had showered over his face, and strung together his eyelashes in a way that you could have sworn made them look as if they sparkled.

Before your orgasm hit, you demanded of him, “Come up here.” The way that his dick had twitched while he had sucked on you was becoming too hard for you to ignore.

With your finger tracing along his jaw, you kissed into his mouth, “My turn.”

The tiles were a bit hard on your knees, but after you had swung his beautifully thick thigh over your shoulder, nothing mattered as you had found your perfect angle.

You have him sloppy kisses all along his length and bit into his thighs, indulging in him, pulling at the skin where he was much more sensitive than you had expected. While it was contradictory, you gave him as many hickies as you could on the skin of his milky inner thighs. The purple love bites were gorgeous on his shaking legs.

“oh god.” He moaned out.

Your tongue teased him for a little while longer, then his hands told you what they wanted you to do. He had braided his fingers deep into your strands, and pulled your lips up to meet with his tip.

“God, I want you so bad, please, y/n.”

Just as how you had felt when he was at your mercy on the mat, he was all yours now: yours to take apart, yours to put back together.

“Needy baby.” You cooed into his leaking slit. “That bad?”

“Are you going to make me beg more?”

“Maybe I like it?” Your wrist jerked at him at last.

“Please give me your mouth, I can’t wait any longer.”

“Cute.”

Upon fully taking him in, Minho gasped out so sharply and loudly, it even surprised you. Never had someone been so needy for you, it was intoxicating. You took him in gradually deeper and deeper, pushing down your throat. All around you, the showering water coated you in an ocean of comfort; it trailed down your hair and fell down the sides of your face and your arms, no place was untouched.

Minho’s pruned fingers dug into your shoulders, “get up--fuck--”

At first, his fingers entered you, teasing your hole. Your stringy slick mixed with the water clinging to his fingers. The orgasm that he had once started within you pooled heavily and tightened at your core.

“Show me Minho, give it to me.”

He instructed you by picking you up into his arms, then pinned you against the tiled walls, back flat against the cool stone. His fingers dug into your ass, aligning you over his dick. It took all of your strength to wrap your arms and legs around him, but he held you back with ease.

“I-I’m not too heavy?”

“No. Not at all, you’re perfect for me. All of you.”

Together, you shivered at the feeling of connection once he had entered you, instinctually finding each other's lips between the water.

Minho’s thrusts started out slow and careful, planned almost. He was intentional in the way he reached as deep inside you as he could and listened to every response of your body.

“Mm...keep going,” you panted, “like that. ‘Feels so, so good.”

Time faded into non-existence this way with Minho dragging his hips in and out of you with a tantalizing speed. More than anything, it was the closeness that you felt taking him in so wholly, feeling every inch of his length. Each time that he grazed you deep, you sunk deeper into him, becoming weaker and weaker in his arms.

“I’m so close. Can I cum?” Minho’s brown glistening eyes pleaded to you.

You nodded eagerly, and it was if a switch had flipped inside him. All at once, he shoved your body harder into the wall, screwing you into it. His arms flexed where he held you, and his chest flushed red as he neared his release. When he did, his face was near euphoric as he milked himself completely into you, reaching one hand down to give your sex more attention, using his thumb to apply pressure.

When you reached your release, you could only helplessly convulse in his arms, thighs quivering against his hips.

Minho cradled you as you came down, smoothing the top of your head, then eventually helping you stand on your own. “You okay?” He took both sides of your face gently in his palms. “By the way, what is that you were gonna ask me earlier? Sorry…”He bashfully grinned at you. “I had other things on my mind.”

You took his face in your hands too, firstly brushing over the little mole on his nose, then delighting in the soft hairs of his cheeks.

“It’s okay. I got my answer.”

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squishycheekanon · 3 years

Text

When Dusk begins.

Part Two.

Warnings: none yet but there will be smut in upcoming chapters.

SERIES MASTERLIST.

“What just happened?!” You shouted over the loud wind that brushed harshly against your skin. The slight pricks against your cheeks; a hint of realisation hit you as you felt the warm unstable ground you were sinking into. “We’re in Egypt.” You whispered in disbelief. Your eyes widened and a swarm of panicked breaths swirled around you. “Ahkmen! Ahkmenrah!”

“I’m here!” He yelled. You turned to see him climbing over the sand to you. He grabbed your hand pulling you closer as if protecting you while he was surveying the area. You looked over his face, the way his jaw was clenched, his eyes were stern. You couldn’t help but smile thinking of the smiling teddy bear he was earlier.

“That’s my home.” He pointed to the large palace. Your breath caught in your throat. You were seeing an actual ancient Egyptian palace up close. Ahkmenrah pulled you along with the words ‘let’s go’.

“Wait. We can’t go there. We don’t even know if it’s safe. We don’t even know how we got here? How do we get back? What happens if we can’t get back?!” You started to panic; all the horrid thoughts spiralling in your head. Ahkmenrah frowned cupping your face with one hand.

“Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, I will protect you.” You saw the truth in his words with the way his face shifted. He was serious. You took a deep breath and nodded, putting your trust in him.

Three days earlier...

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You couldn’t think of one thing to say. Out of the amount of questions you had built up over the years. All the things you wanted to know; why didn’t you just ask something.....he was just so distracting.

“Y/N!” You blinked out of your daze. “Are you even listening to me?” Your friend smirked at your far away look.

“No,” you began sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I am now. Go on.” You smiled.

“As I was saying. He told me I was too mindless to be with him since he was looking for a serious relationship——-“

You loved your friend Alyssa. She was like the sister you never had. But no matter how many times you tried you couldn’t find it in yourself to be interested in her love life. It was huge. Her ‘love life’ stretched across the whole city. She complains about being dumped but you know for a fact that she doesn’t care, especially since she had a plethora of men left at her disposal.

“So yeah we’re not seeing each other anymore. Oh and I got a hot date this Saturday with a guy called Spence. He’s cool.” It caused you physical pain for you not to roll your eyes there and then.

“That’s great hun.” You thanked Larry more than ever when your phone went off with an ‘emergency’ halfway through Alyssa’s explicit story of last nights one night stand.

You got to the museum just before sun down. It looked so strange with nothing walking around. It felt so empty. Standing at the front desk you waited for Larry to show up. After a while you began to wander about, it was not long before you found yourself at Ahkmenrah’s exhibit. You walked inside really examining the place. It felt so much like home to you, so strange.

Your eyes laid upon the sarcophagus. Frowning at the thought that he must have been so lonely all those years stuck inside the box. Just as you placed your hand on the glass case, a glow shone brightly from behind you. The golden shine was magnificent, you watched the tablet come to life in awe.

A loud sound echoed through the walls of the exhibit as Ahkmenrah started to scream. You acted quickly, removing the glass top and pulling out the pins of the coffin. With a grunt you pushed off the lid. Ahkmenrah sat up pulling off the dusty bandages.

“Thank you Y/N.” You really weren’t used to him saying your name. No not yet.

“No problem.” Both of you smiled at one another. He dusted himself off and placed his crown on his head turning to you. You suddenly felt awkward, he noticed you shifting your shoulders uncomfortably.

“So Larry tells me you like Egypt.” He said making you laugh.

“You could say that. More like.. it’s my life.” You giggle sheepishly. His face brightened at your words, happy to find someone who shares the same enthusiasm about his life.

“Well I could tell you abo—“

“Y/N! AHK!” Your head snapped to Larry who was looking about frantically.

“What’s wrong?” You asked standing up, instantly feeling the warm presence behind you. Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that because Ahk was basically dead, theoretically he would be a cold, with lifeless features. But his warmth and comforting tropical scent proved you wrong.

“The cavemen left the museum. I need you to use the tablet to bring them back!” He rushed out. Ahkmenrah nodded with urgency and grabbed the golden tablet out of the wall.

“I’ll go wait by the door.” Larry said before running off.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the golden glow that shone when Ahkmenrah pressed a few buttons on the tablet.

“That’s cool.” You grinned like a idiot not noticing the Egyptian King grinning at you, he couldn’t help but smile at the wonder in your eyes. He was so focused on you that his thumb slipped and pressed a button...

You screamed so loud you thought your lungs would burst. You fell into swirls of gold and fluorescent turquoise. With a thump you landed coughing. The unclear air made you uneasy....

You and Ahkmenrah made your way closer to the palace. It was so beautiful and grand. The light colour used made you feel hopeful that nothing bad was going to happen, or maybe that was Ahkmen’s hand in yours.

You stumbled over your feet as you saw guards with spears stationed at the entrances. They kneeled looking down the moment they saw Ahk.

“That means they can see us.” You whispered panicked. He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of your hand in a way of calming you. Pulling you passed them qucikly, practically running. He grabbed a piece of cloth from a pile that a woman was carrying, much to your confusion.

He pulled you into a room closing the big door behind both of you and shoving the cloth in your hands. “What’s this?” You frowned unfolding it to show a very light yellow almost white gown.

“They can see us. Which means they can see your modern day clothes. Until we can figure out what’s happening the best thing we can do is blend in.” He explained, you nodded agreeing. You looked at him waiting for him to turn around.

“Could you, yanno turn around?” You asked sheepishly. He chuckled with a look of understanding before turning to face the doors.

“Right. I forgot that nudeness is a big deal in your time.” He said making you unbelievably scoff at the thought of him being naked 24/7 in his time.

“Okay. I’m done.” Your fingers brushed over the beautiful soft gown. It felt so lushious. It went all the way down to the floor, swaying with the breeze. You looked up to see Ahkmenrah staring at your with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

He stepped forward taking a piece of the material in between his thumb and forefinger. Your breathing increased at the look in his eyes. He tilted his head sideways shamelessly examining the skin on your neck and chest that was on display. He was so near now you could feel his hot breath tickling your nose. You were both inching closer unknowingly, it felt so good to be close to someone. It felt so so so nice.

“Ahkmen?” You both jumped, blinking quickly pulling away and turning to see a woman. She was gorgeous, dark dark hair with braids here and there. Beads of gold hung delicately on strands. A white gown covered her body, a shiny collar clung to her neck. A magenta sash tightened around her waist. Ahkmenrah’s hand squeezed yours tightly, moving his arm to pull you behind him and out of line of vision. Your eyes widened at his words.

“Mother?”

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah #night at the museum #pharaoh #x reader #squishycheekanon

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 3 years

Text

Begrudging Allies (Aaron Hotchner x Trans!Male!Reader)

Summary: Aaron and Y/N's marriage is suitable enough, given that Aaron secretly loves men and Y/N secretly is a man. When the one year anniversary of their amicable nuptials brings forth correspondence from their estranged families, Aaron takes the opportunity to potentially make something more out of their arrangement.

AN: This is one of my entries to the "Enemies 2 Lovers" challenge set by @imagining-in-the-margins on Tumblr!

Reader is trans male and uses he/him pronouns.

WC: 2.4k words

Content Warning: References to era appropriate homophobia/transphobia but nothing actually mentioned. Two dumb fucking gay men trying to flirt.

Photo Credit // Masterlist // AO3

Your name: submit What is this?

Aaron Hotchner and Y/N L/N were served breakfast together every day they were in the house together. They sat not at opposite ends, but the seat left adjacent to them. That way, they did not have to look at each other whilst they ate. Breakfast was the only meal with which they shared each other’s company. Why make it unbearable first thing in the morning? They read the morning paper - and any post - while eating. Only the scrape of their plates and muted chewing was to be heard before the chairs scraped across the floorboards and both men departed.

Today they both received a note from the L/N household back in their old country.

“I assume your letter reads the same as mine,” Y/N dropped his beside his plate before pushing it further away.

Hotchner raised his eye from the headline that had been mildly entertaining him, “It does.”

In cursive flicks, the usual complaints of their emigration had reached his eyes not moments prior. The closing of his family’s letter however broached a new request: a photograph of the happy couple on their first wedding anniversary, specifically a recreation. The ungrateful bunch, the only remaining wedding photographs of the wedding were in their hands.

“I don’t have the dress,” Y/N scoffed and looked aside. Even from this end of the table, Aaron could see that he was trying to mask his tears from the dawn. The wedding day was the culmination of their greatest shames.

At least Aaron had tried to make the best of it, but there was no relief for Y/N until they were in their separate chambers and free from all betrothment attire.

“Suppose we should arrange for a fitting. Though how we’re going to do that without arousing any suspicion here is beyond me.” “Perhaps we can go north, find a seamstress and a wigmaker there.”

Aaron did not patronise Y/N by pretending he understood his plight. He himself had never pictured himself with a wife; worse was that Y/N had never pictured himself to be a wife.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to remain a woman?” He had said after Y/N had confessed during their third arranged rendezvous.

With venom spitting from each syllable, Y/N’s reply was one that he remembered vividly: “I was never a woman to start with.”

They were not friends, they barely spoke, but the enemy of the enemy is a friend. This sentiment made Y/N a begrudging ally.

However it did not make the occasions they had to pretend to be a happily wedded couple any simpler. Y/N did look most becoming in white, but Aaron knew that there was no worse day for Y/N than that day in the church. Any reminder was like a stake through the heart.

“I’ll arrange for the fitting,” Aaron quietly volunteered.

Y/N was quick with a brusque reply, “I can organise my own affairs.”

“Of course, but perhaps it would lighten your load if I took on those responsibilities.” Aaron paused as Y/N pushed aside his breakfast plate, his eggs now making his stomach turn. He used his newspaper as a shield, “And as your husband, I give you permission to dress how you please.”

Y/N blinked then nodded. He did not ever say thank you. That was his problem, Y/N, too proud. Too nervous to admit that he had been graciously allowed to exist like this because of his marriage to Aaron. As if that was ever any part of their agreement, both of them had blackmail worthy material. Y/N just seemed to forget that, or at least he was not the type of individual to dangle Aaron’s secrets before him like a carrot on a stick. Why Y/N thought that Aaron was that type though, he had some idea.

“A member of the bar?” was the response Aaron got from Y/N, disgust thinly veiled, upon their first chaperoned walk through the L/N estate. It must have seemed contradictory later down the line, to be a protector of the laws that criminalised his very own existence. It was not as uncommon as Y/N believed however, and there were much worse laws to break between trials than being attracted to men.

A man of his word, Aaron prepared for a fitting in the comfort of their own home. A friend of theirs was a tailor; accommodations were no economic issue. Of course, this friend did not know either of their secrets, but other than that, he was a companion who would be greeted warmly into their home.

Y/N watched the tailor from the chaise whilst pretending to be interested in a book. His eye would raise itself to see each adjustment made to Aaron’s wedding suit, which he had surprisingly kept – folded in a box at the farthest corner of the house. Then Y/N would go back to the page and reread the top few lines. Every time, Aaron would pretend not to notice. But the jiggle of Y/N’s knee, the absence of progression through the book’s narrative, taught him that Y/N was anticipating this fitting with something more positive than last time.

“All done, thank you, Aaron!” “Y/N, your turn.”

His book snapped shut and Y/N stepped up to the podium. Aaron swapped places with him without acting out the role of an aloof reader. As expected his expression was well disguised as neutral, but Aaron’s practice in law gifted him with a pair of spectacles into the soul. Y/N’s glee of the tape measure taking in his proportions was masked so that only his eyes smiled. Once or twice, the corner of his mouth ticked up, only to iron its creases out when the tailor moved into his eyeline. When asked what colour he would consider, Y/N mulled deliciously his options before selecting a gentle blue. His fingers were cautious but as soon as they touched the royal fabric offered, they fanned out and welcomed it for his new suit.

From the moment they broke apart, his hands were restless. Ticking against his teacup or tapping against his legs were two of their new favourite hobbies. Even when the suit arrived, Y/N could not keep himself still. His beautiful face was scrunched up in the mirror as he attempted for a third time to make the right knot in his cravat. The photographer was waiting for them downstairs.

Aaron sighed and knocked one knuckle to the door, “Allow me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes, “I can do it myself.”

“I know. But this knot will look better.”

Their eyes locked in the mirror, before Y/N turned around and released his tie. His chin pointed parallel to the carpet. His neck was still so as not to drop the breath he was holding. Aaron flicked with the tip of the cravat as his hands slotted it through, his focus on the column of Y/N’s throat, because meeting his gaze now was an impossible feat. They were too close for that. He bent the stalks of his collar into place then stepped back as if to admire his handiwork. But that was not at all what he really regarded.

He cleared his throat, “There.”

As Aaron removed his hands, Y/N spun to face his reflection head on. “Adequate. You’ll have to teach me that one.”

Finally, they greeted their photographer, who had set up his camera in their garden. It was a lovely day, not to be wasted inside. At least that’s what the photographer said as he unceremoniously ushered them into place and posed them to his liking. There was no instruction for how to position their faces so Aaron kept his the same as their original wedding portrait.

His plan for relaxed facial features hit a bump in the road. As the photographer ducked beneath his sheet, Y/N snorted. His hand was quick to follow and it clapped over his mouth. The photographer emerged with concerned curiosity. A strand of his combover was standing on end.

“My apologies, there was a tickle in my throat.” He pressed his lips together and ducked his head, his feet scuffing one inch’s worth of dirt before he regained composure.

The photographer tried again. Aaron could see, in the corner of his eye, that Y/N’s corners of his mouth weighed down to prevent a break but it was unsuccessful.

“Do forgive me,” He said, his voice quivering, “I remembered a jest from last week. It isn’t even worth the laughter it brings.”

Despite his detractions, Y/N kept guffawing to himself as the photographer kept dodging about his cloth and camera. It spilled from between his pressed lips like an overflowing goblet. Aaron had not heard such delight before. He would describe it as infectious if the joy in Y/N’s notes was comparable to a plague. No, this was intoxicating, a mead he would heartily drink until he too was giddy on the stuff. Y/N, clutching Aaron’s arm to stay standing, almost stumbled as Aaron bent over with equally bashful laughter.

“It would possibly suit you better if you sat,” said the photographer through a faux smile. He then ushered over to one of the benches, the one amidst the tulips, before he wrangled with his camera after them.

Seated on the cool marble, Aaron kept a few inches between himself and Y/N. Their hands took that space but waited to hold hands. Y/N was still shaking but his smile was minute now, replaced by mild embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that funny,” He said. But there was a twitch in his voice, a breath that indicated otherwise.

“No, not at all,” whispered Aaron, his head tilted against the invisible line between them.

Y/N turned, his nose pushing their boundary and almost brushing against Aaron’s cheek when he too turned to face him.

“At long last, we agree.”

Y/N’s lips betrayed him again. A bubble of laughter popped between them, letting out the smallest of smiles. Yet it shone through with such luminosity that it almost outdid the flash of the bulb as their photograph was taken. There was delight at the absence of the melancholy pose that a long exposure wedding portrait promised. Oh, the wonders of new technology.

As was with his new suit, Y/N practically waited by the door for the photographs. His hands were beyond ravenous for them by the time they arrived. They snatched at the envelope and tore with as much care as he could muster, his voice catching in the roof of his mouth as he called for Aaron.

On the chaise together, their knees were brought in close to rest the papers upon. Their faces looked as though they were carved into the paper with charcoal, smudged by an artist’s thumb. That radiant smile among it all was the centre of the photograph. Aaron noted the distance between them was mirrored in their past selves as they sifted through their options.

Then Y/N held aloft the ones for their respective families, “Sit with me while I pen the reply.”

Aaron was not usually welcome in Y/N’s study. Yet, as he pulled up a walnut wood chair with red velvet seat beside the bureau, behind Y/N’s matching one, he felt like he was in place. With anticipation, he watched the most passive aggressive comments that had ever been put to paper. All bar one was spun from Y/N’s inspiration. Aaron had but one to add and it took some convincing for Y/N to put it in his family’s correspondence – he was writing since his writing was far neater. Even so, there were a few loops of the ‘l’s that slanted when Y/N was particularly amused by something that Aaron had commented on.

“There,” Y/N said as he closed the second of two envelopes with crimson wax. As he lifted the seal, he spoke quieter, “Just a thought, nothing more, but I almost wish I could see their faces. Only the first second though.” The seal was placed in his drawer and the letters were left in the centre of the desk while one remaining photograph was selected by Y/N, “I want to keep this. In the drawing room.”

Aaron’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead, “You do?”

Y/N nodded once with finality, his broad smile returning, “It’s the first time I was myself in a long time, the best I’ve ever looked! Besides, I am your husband and I say it will stand above the fireplace by the end of the week – once I find a suitable frame.”

He held it up, squinting to imagine what frame might work best with the décor. His chair itching to be closer, Hotch leant over and cupped his hand over Y/N’s so that he could see the photograph too. It stayed there, and perhaps it was his imagination, but Hotchner could have sworn that Y/N’s back slacked and swayed to the right an inch, almost resting against his shoulder beside Aaron’s.

Y/N’s quiet voice was back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You do not have to say thank you.”

“When are you going to stop telling me what to do?”

There was no accusation in it; it was asked as simply as one would ask for another napkin. But Aaron did not quite know how to answer.

“I don’t mean to come across as a drill sergeant,” He said softly.

“Aaron,” Y/N lowered their hands but kept them together beside his lap, “You don’t have to worry about me and what I’m going to do, just like I don’t have to worry about you.”

And what Aaron thought about being ignorant of an answer before, that became a lie. Aaron wanted to worry about Y/N, and he did worry. Not for himself or his identity being exposed, but because he did care for his husband. He didn’t want to worry or have Y/N be worried about control in their home. They should exist as equals, not in blackmail but in respect. Maybe one day, in love.

Aaron settled instead for: “My apologies. And I thank you too. It was the first time I was myself as well.”

Y/N blinked, then avoided his stare. It was a revelation therefore when he laced his fingers with Aaron’s for the briefest of squeeze and replied, “No thanks necessary. It was my pleasure.”

Then the bell tinkled for breakfast and the two men were up on their feet. Y/N was in the dining room first. He sat two away from the head of the table this time. With enough care to drag his chair loudly across the floor, Aaron mirrored that seating, dragging his cutlery and crockery into place. As they were served, Y/N swiped the newspaper before his husband could with a smirk hidden behind the pages. Hotchner poured his coffee and smiled into the brew. He was, for once, thoroughly glad that they had breakfast together.

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Aaron Hotchner fics: @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #r: male #r: trans male #wc: 2k+#my writing

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