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notaninterest · 3 years

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Carnal *1* (A Hisoka x Reader)

[A/N]: Hello! My username says notaninterest, but feel free to call me Cece.

I'm going to be making this into a story! So I do hope you stick around for the other parts to come. This is also posted on my Wattpad if you're interested. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it shouldn't be too long. We'll see :)

I update weekly to biweekly depending on how my life pans out. I will let you know when you should expect the next chapter.

I think I made some mistakes with my writing about Nen so I hope that's okay. I'm not going to be completely accurate in my writing. I hope you understand.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

warnings: heavy sexual themes, smut, Hisoka being fucking hawt

The smell is the same as any other strip club. These grimy places usually never interested him, but tonight is different. It is not the same as the others. He urges for something, something not related to his bloodlust. Yes...He requires a woman. And places like these were full of them. He smiles to himself whilst taking a sip of his alcohol. Nevermind the crowd of inebriated men and some women. His yellow eyes are trained on the dancers, three different ones each accompanying their own respective poles. One of them is a brunette with an aline bob, her hands above her head wrapped around the pole and her legs crossed over the pole with her back facing towards it. She held a look of lust while she arched her back, exposing her full bare breasts further to the crowd as she spun down the pole slowly. While she played the part, her aura certainly didn't feel the part. Hisoka could sense the underlying hatred and disgust this girl has for her job and while she is good at it, she clearly doesn't enjoy it. 'Too boring. Easily manipulated. Not enough fun.' He decides, switching his gaze over to the second girl. This one has long, blue hair reaching to her waist. She confidently swirls upside on the pole, grinding against it upside down. As she reaches down lower, she does the splits midair, manipulating her lower body to face the crowd of horny alcoholics, giving them a peek as to what's beneath the lingerie. A man in the mass of bodies spits out his beer in surprise, quickly throwing money at the dancer. Hisoka rolls his eyes. It's clear as day that she's just a run of the mill slut, perfect for this specific area of expertise. She's clearly in it for it all. Sex, money, and exhibitionism. She doesn't care who watches her or who touches her. She enjoys it all the same. While sensitivity to touch was always a plus, he prefers at least some resistance to his advances. He likes 'em feisty.

The third dancer however...bingo. Her [h/c] hair is what first draws him to her significantly more than the others. The second? Well, he can't sense her aura. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he can't feel it at all. She must be using Zetsu to conceal herself from any Nen users. Little does she know that any other other highly experienced Nen users like himself can easily spot through her deception from just looking at her. Another smile upturns his lips. She will certainly entertain him for the night. He continues to watch her, noting the way her [e/c] eyes sparkle with excitement, nervousness, and some other emotions he can't place. This placates his curiosity more. "Oi, bartender." He calls one of the employees, who walks over while cleaning a glass. "What's the name of that third dancer, the one right over there?" Hisoka asks, pointing over to the mysterious woman. "Well that'd be [Y/N], the most graceful of them all." The bartender gushes, clearly having it out for the lady. "Hmm...'most graceful' you say..." He'd be the test of that one. He continues to stalk you out from the bar, sipping on his alcohol slowly. He needn't be drunk for this experience. No...He's going to enjoy this one to satisfy his more carnal cravings for a longer time. He watches you closely. You were wearing very little, definitely giving the appearance of confidence in your body. That scores high in the point system in Hisoka's head. You were currently positioned so the front of your body faced the pole, your backside facing the crowd. You bent over at the waist, grabbing the pole in front of you and bending to a 90-degree angle. Your toned ass is on clear view to the people in front of you and you slowly rotate your hips, imitating a sexual act in midair. Or, at least trying to. ‘Mmm...she's perfect.’ Hisoka dreams of the acts he'll perform on you, becoming more excited by the second. He continues to watch you, head in his left hand, his drink in the other. As soon as you finish undulating your hips, you slide up against the pole, grinding your pussy against the cold metal. A gasp leaves your lips, one that should be inaudible considering the noise and the atmosphere, but it's a noise Hisoka can hear as clear as day. It's clear that from the pitch in this noise and the way you move your body that you're not experienced in this area, which leaves him to wonder why you chose it. Maybe for the money? No...he doubted that. You didn't lurch your body around the pole as deliberately as the first dancer. There was a secret to your work that he doesn't know of. It becomes painfully more clear that you aren't experienced in any pole work at all, judging by how clumsily you slither up the pole. Your eyes struggle to convey the desire to practically fuck the pole and instead are glazed over in what seems to be a sort of nervousness. To any other everyday individual, you'd look like a professional, maybe graceful as others say. Yet, to Hisoka, he can see right through your dancing façade. Why are you doing this...he must sate his ever-growing curiosity.

As the number finishes and the dancers walk offstage, Hisoka approaches the man responsible for handing out lap dances and the like, going to put his request in nice and early. "Eh?! You request a room for the rest of the night?! S-Sir I'm afraid-" Hisoka holds up a heavy, full bag. "This here is enough jenny to last you a lifetime and even your grandkids if you spend it wisely." He smiles as he hands the packed bag over, watching as the man's eyes light up in greed. He needs this money. And Hisoka can tell. "I'm sure we can make something work. This man here will guide you to your room." The greedy man shoos over a hefty bulk of a guy, who promptly tells Hisoka to follow him. Hisoka smirks, dropping the bag of money on the slimy man's desk. "Very well. Thank you." He thanks, following the brawny dude to his assigned room.

The large man guides the magician to the room furthest down the long hallway. As Hisoka opens it, he notices it to be some sort of suite. He chuckles to himself. The other rooms were smaller. Money sure did get you good things. The strong guard before him tells him that the dancer he requested will be with him shortly before leaving, giving Hisoka some time to himself before you arrived. He investigates the big room for the time being, meticulously looking over things. There was the obvious king-sized bed, massive enough for two bodies. There's a nightstand full of condoms and lube. It has a lamp with a red shade on top of it, which Hisoka turns on. The room fills with an additional red light, making him smile. Yes...mood lighting. He's looking through the dresser across the bed when the door swings open, an angry-looking woman greeting him. He smiles at her, arms crossed behind his back. "Hello, [Y/N]-" "I don't allow any clients to touch me, much less have me for 12 hours straight!" You interrupt as you fume, glaring at the magician before you. "Must be your lucky night then." Hisoka chuckles, running his entrancing eyes over your body. Your minimal clothing was enticing to say the least, easily getting him worked up. But the air of mystery swarming around you fuels his horniness more. He needs to find out what exactly you are up to. The door suddenly closes firmly behind you, clicking locked behind the woman. You panic, trying to open the locked door handle. As predicted, it doesn't budge. "I think what you mean by not allowing anyone to touch you, you also mean you haven't even touched yourself?" Hisoka asks, beginning to walk over to you with his hands still behind his back. Your aura suddenly springs to life, surrounding your body in an instant. Hisoka smirks, continuing his approach. "St-Stand back, clown! I will not hesitate to send you flying!" You stamper, projecting your Nen in an offensive manner. "Hm..." Hisoka ponders, stopping inches away from you.

You're strong, but not nearly as strong as he is. He wonders how long you've been practicing. Must've been a few years now. You place yourself in a defensive stance, one arm angled up at a 90-degree angle and the other positioned a little below that one in the same stance, legs spread apart with one a little behind the other. Ah, yes. Every stereotypical position most fighters took when looking to fight. It looks silly with what you're wearing. And the look on your face was so hilariously serious. That's why Hisoka couldn't stop himself from laughing. He seriously tried to contain it, but the silliness of your posture combined with your facial expression absolutely cracked him up. This reaction serves to royally piss off the woman in front of him. "What?! What's so funny?!" You snap at him, clenching your hands into fists. He laughs himself to literal tears, holding his stomach with one clawed hand. "It's just...Your Nen compares next to nothing against mine, but your effort is quite adorable." The Transmuter purrs, wiping his cheek and taking a step closer to you. You look worried, taking a step away from the man. He responds by simply taking a step closer. "Wh-What do you want from me, f-freak?" You stutter nervously, finding yourself being backed into a corner. "Why, you of course." The magician licks his lips to emphasize his statement. A blush crosses your [s/c] cheeks, your eyes gleaming with fear. The look is so utterly delicious to him.

He chuckles, continuing to walk towards you. You back up until your back is literally against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go expect towards the creepy man. You breathe shakily, making your fear of him clear. "Well, let's get started...[Y/N]." Hisoka smiles, placing his hand next to your head and leaning down to touch noses with you. It's clear his height intimidates you. You swallow and swing, missing your Nen-powered punch by a longshot. He dodges, letting the attack wisp by his right star-drawn cheek. Hisoka giggles at your attempt, grabbing your outstretched hand with his free one and pinning it against the wall you were up against. You look totally helpless, fuelling his desire more. "Oh-ho-ho, trying to hit me are you now? Your attempt turns me on." He teases, fully smiling at your clear look of panic. His eyes narrow as your Nen powers up, sensing that you're up to something. He uses Gyo, centering his Ren in his eyes and watching your aura, watching as it enhances to your hidden fist behind you and to your left leg. So you're an Enhancer, hm? You were going to try to bait him with a fake punch before actually hitting him with your left leg? Okay. He feigns as if he doesn't suspect anything, allowing you to throw your fist at him before pulling back, jumping up and predictably swinging your leg at the left side of his teardrop-stained cheek. He allows the attack to land on him, his head snapping to the side with a frightening speed. Your eyes light up victoriously, but they soon dim to horror as he turns his scuffed up face back to look down at you with a smug smirk. "Any normal person would have flown away with that attack, so I must say I'm impressed. Yet, I'm not a normal man if you can't already tell. Your attacks will provide you with no protection if I haven't already predicted this. It's cute that you think you have an evenly-scored battleground with me." Hisoka chuckles, pinning you against the wall with both of your hands restrained by his at this point.

Your expressive eyes give away your anxiety of the situation, but your face remains hard with determination. The look reminds him of a certain 12-year old boy. This stirs his lust for you up further. He licks at his pale lips seductively, yellow eyes glowing into your own [e/c] ones. Your cold glare sends a spike of pleasure right to his hardened dick. He smiles wider if possible. It's becoming increasingly clear that you have no chance against him and he finds this power over you intoxicating, delicious even. "I have a question for you, [Y/N]. Sate my curiosity if you will." The clown husks, putting his mouth right next to your right ear. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face and you gulp nervously. "Shoot." Your icy voice fills his ears, and he gives a simple, "Hmm." at your compliance. You were going to be so much fun to break. He really chose the right contender to satisfy his needs. He snickers into your ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of it. It causes you to barely shiver. It was almost imperceptible, but not to perceptive Hisoka. He grins with this discovery, deciding not to voice it. You would soon find your body betraying you. "Pray tell what you're doing in a place like this? We both know you're not qualified for sex work, so what really brings you here, [Y/N]?" Hisoka's flirtatious voice whispers against your flesh. You noticeably tense up at the question, your hands forming into fists. Your wrists flex in his grasp. He seems to have hit a sore spot. You don't respond immediately. This moves Hisoka to press his body up against yours. Your almost completely exposed chest rubs up against his completely covered one and you gasp at his movements, clearly not expecting them. "Mmm your body feels delightful up against me dear~ Now answer the question." He lustfully whispers in your ear. You seem frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise. He decides he quite likes that expression, ingraining it into his memory. You quickly catch yourself, squirming against his body. "Let m-me go!" You stutter. Your futile attempts only rub him in all the right ways and he moans deeply, the noise hitting your right ear loudly. You gasp, your cheeks reddening with...desire? You freeze up again. He chuckles. "You feel amazing rubbing up against me like that~ Now...are you going to answer or am I going to force it out of you?~" He mumbles sensually, rubbing his lips against the flesh of your ear. You lick your lips to moisten them, your breathing correcting itself quickly.

"I'm here to collect a bounty." You simply state, watching his pale face out of the corner of your right eye. He laughs. "Liar." He growls into your ear, his hands tightening on your wrists before he throws you behind him. He listens as your delectable body bounces on the massive mattress before he turns around, predatory eyes focusing on your scared ones as you sit up on the bed. "That's the truth-" "Incorrect. I'm simply calling you out on your bullshit." Hisoka grins, beginning to approach the bed with obvious sexual intentions. You back away to the headboard of the bed, your back pressing against the splintering wood. He crawls onto the king-sized cot, stopping as soon as he looms on top of you. The look in his eyes is hungry as he looks down your body once again. He loves the position you're in. Utterly helpless. He places his hands beneath your arms, leaning down so that he's touching noses with you again. "Answer the question. Truthfully this time." He adds, smiling deviously in your flustered face. Your mouth remains shut. That's fine. It's well past time for him to immerse himself in your beautiful body. He reaches underneath you, carefully manipulating his clawed hand to the string of your toppiece. He unties it, the flimsy material of the lingerie falling away from your breasts almost instantly. You puff out a noise of embarrassment, your hands quickly coming to aid in hiding your tits from him. The magician quickly evades this method however, encircling both your wrists in his hands again and pinning them next to your head. He takes a long look at your perfect bust, practically drooling at the sight of them. He truly scored with this catch. He smiles, making eye contact with you again. He does not hide his lust from you this time. "Fine.~ I suppose I'll have to try a different method to coax an answer out of you." He punctuates this by licking his lips, moving his face over your bosom. Your eyes watch, curious as to what he'll do. You look nervous and Hisoka couldn't hold back his smirk. The nervousness only virgins hold. This'll be one hell of a lay. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

He sticks out his tongue, running it over your left nipple before popping it into his mouth. He gives an experimental suck and watches as your body jolts beneath him. A noise akin to pleasure leaves your throat and you look embarrassed at this, closing your eyes. His smile widens and he continues to suck on your nipple, running his tongue over it at the same time. He releases your right hand when he's sure you won't move, using his free hand to massage your other boob. He kneads the flesh in his palm, squeezing the whole thing harshly. Your back arches off the bed and a groan leaves your lips, your hands squeezing as you squirm beneath him. Beautiful. The way you respond to him. You must be sensitive. He watches your face with his observate eyes, watching as your face relaxes into a sort of pleasured expression. Perfect. He pops your breast out of his mouth, replacing it with his other hand. He continues his ministrations for a few quiet moments, listening as you release more pleased noises. This heats up his body more and as a result, his own face flushes up with his desire. "So [Y/N].~ You ready to spill the beans?" Hisoka asks, squeezing both of your tits rather roughly. You pant, opening your defiant eyes to glare at him. "Never." You huff, shivering beneath him. He chuckles. "Shame.~" He continues to fondle you, this time kissing and dragging his tongue against your stomach. Your muscles tense and untense and a full fledged moan dares to leave your mouth. Sensitive you are indeed. This causes Hisoka himself to shiver, your moan music to his ears. He drags his tongue up your stomach, in between the valley of your boobs and up to your neck, where he centers his attack. He laves his tongue in the area, kissing it too. Your moans double in volume and he smiles to himself. "Dare to share, [Y/N]~?" He huskily whispers, licking up to your earlobe and nibbling it. “Ahn- N-No." You pant, trying to remain as stoic as before. You were for sure a challenge...and Hisoka loves challenges. Chuckling, he bites at the skin of your neck, enjoying your flinch in response. "Fine. Be that way." He responds, returning his attention to your tits. He massages the flesh in his clawed hands, tweaking the nipples at the same time. He pulls them, making your back arch to follow them. He leans down to your face, running his nose against your cheek before kissing it. He moves his face towards your left ear, breathing hotly against it. You freeze up before shivering in response. "Perhaps I'll have to take more...drastic measures." He whispers into your ear, his right hand releasing its grip on your left boob and hovering over the side of your hip where a tie holds up the bottom piece of your sexy outfit.

He pulls at the measly string, untying it from your hip. It loosens the fabric, yet the triangular material protecting your modesty continues to cover it. This is fine. He unties the other string, the fabric effectively falling slack against your skin. Hisoka releases all touches, focusing on your lower body now. You move to cover your most sensitive bits, but Hisoka simply smacks your hands away with force, moving back to take the covering away from you. As you yelp and rub your hands, he uses his to grab the thong, taking it away from your body. He stares at your pussy in all its glory, licking his lips. "Say...~ all this interrogating has got me famished. You don't mind if I have a little snack, right?~" His seductive voice proclaims, spreading open your thighs and settling himself in between them. Your nervous eyes alight his own dilated ones and he continues his prowl. He inhales your scent deeply, moaning. Yes, you smell absolutely scrumptious! "I will not be asking you questions from here on out. I will be demanding them. So, [Y/N]. Tell me why you're actually here." He almost snarls, his claws digging into the skin of your hips, drawing a small amount of blood. You wince, but remain strong. "No." You respond icily, acting as if you weren't intimidated. It's almost cute, but he can smell your fear. You reek of it. He chuckles. "Alright.~" He immediately dives into your pussy, licking a stripe up to your clit. You gasp, an ungodly pornographic moan leaving your throat. Hisoka groans in response to your taste, licking up what is all of you. His practiced tongue flicks against your clit and your body twists around, full-fledged, unembarrassed moans leaving your mouth as his sucks on your sensitive sex. His thumbs spread your lower lips open and he flattens his tongue, giving another harsh lick all the way up. He sucks on your hole and you keen, arching your back all the way up. "W-wait -AH- I think I'm going to cum!" You yell out those magic words, your hands grabbing at his hair. That was fast. This fuels his goal further and he eats at you with much more fervor. He slurps your pussy, eating up all you have to offer. Your moans grow more high-pitched and before the both of you know it, you're cumming into Hisoka's mouth. He sucks up all the cum you have to offer, unabashedly enjoying all of it. By the end of it, you're a panting and sweating mess, while Hisoka remains fresh. "Wonderful.~" He murmurs dirtily against you, lapping at your pussy again. You flinch, panting up a storm. You release your grip on his hair, moving your hands to wipe sweat off of your forehead. "W-Wait. I'm too sensit- OH!" You exclaim as he sucks on your clit, watching your face closely this time. Your cheeks are the reddest he's ever seen anyone's become and your eyes are dilated with desire, something he secretly hurrahs in his head. You look amazing. He watches your mouth open in a frenzied moan and shivers, continuing his attack on your pussy. As he continues, he watches you unravel before him yet again. The sight is damning to say the least. You were a gorgeous sight to gaze at and he almost couldn't let you cum a second time, getting caught up in his own desire. He begins to rub himself against the bed to ease himself, moaning into your clit. The vibrations make your toes curl and you throw your head back in a scream. He watches your face as you come undone beneath him yet again, marvelling at your orgasmic expression. That's a face he's certainly going to remember forever.

You're different from his other whores, seeing how you aren't an experienced one. Also seeing as he didn't perform these acts on his other playthings. You're...special. To him for now at least. Surely you wouldn't mean anything once he's finished with you, right? He creeps up your body once your grip on his pink hair loosens, throwing off his shirt and undergarments, exposing his ripped physique to you. Your eyes hungrily trail down the eight-pack, coming into contact with the tent in his loose pants. "I will try this one last time. Final chance. Tell me what your purpose is being here, now." His authoritative tone falls on horny ears. You shake your head, expression firm. He smiles. "Very well..." He strips off the rest of his clothing. Your eyes are trained on his hard dick, a look of panic behind them. He smiles and positions himself at your entrance, wrapping his hands on your soft hips. You seem to second guess yourself. "W-Wait--" "Too late, [Y/N]. You can't stop me from taking you now." He huskily interrupts, beginning to push into your tight pussy. You yowl, pushing your hands against his muscled abdomen. His grips tightens on your hips and despite your efforts, his cock continues to push inside of you, rendering you helpless beneath him. You gasp, shakily exhaling. Your weak arms eventually give up, falling to the sides of you in defeat. He enjoys your submission, fueling his lust for you. He pushes himself in all the way with a hard thrust, making you cry out in pain as your virginity is given to him. He sits there for a minute, relishing in his victory and at the tightness of your walls around him.

He shudders, his whole body rocking with it. It was painfully noticeable. It feels amazing to be inside of you. That's a fact he couldn't hide. "Oh [Y/N].~ You...ngh...feel marvelous.~" Hisoka moans heavily, his grip on your hips growing tighter to the point of being painful. You quietly groan beneath him, arching your back as he begins to move. He moves out and in slowly, testing the waters. You squeak, grabbling your death grip on the sheets on the bed, bunching the material up in your fists. What a sexy display. It'd be better if it was on him instead. He encourages you to grab his back by lowering his chest to touch yours, putting his face next to yours. He effectively covers your body with his own. You get the gist of what he's trying to do, raking your nails against his back as you grab at it. He shudders at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and in response, thrusts into your tight pussy roughly. You yelp at the new sensation, throwing your head back as the pleasure surges through you. Hisoka treasures your expression of newfound enjoyment, really relishing in being the cause of it. He nips at your ear, groaning deeply when it causes your inner walls to convulse around him more. He'll use that knowledge at a later time. For now, he hotly exhales against your flesh, making you shiver against him. He sets out a slow and punishing rhythm, slowly pulling out before forcefully shoving himself back in. You cry out each time his hips meet yours, tears forming at the edge of your eyes from the intensity of his fucking. Hisoka simply smiles, deciding to speed things up a bit. He quickens his pace, smacking against your hips more frequently now. "How's it feel, [Y/N]? Tell me - mm - how my cock feels inside of you." He grunts, sitting up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his dirty talk and Hisoka stops, almost cumming from the expression alone. He pants, pausing for only a moment. He awaits your response while he recovers, watching as your eyes return, your dilated [e/c] eyes looking into his lustful yellow ones. You attempt to roll your hips back onto him, but you fail horribly. You did, however, manage to sink down onto the rest of him, a moan leaving your mouth from feeling so full. Hisoka giggles. "So greedy for my dick~ Tell me how it feels, [Y/N].~" He puts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up more to him. He doesn't move. Not until you choose to respond, that is.

You whine at the lack of friction, glaring up at him with that desireful expression you hold. He smiles. You relent, closing your eyes. "Y-Your cock feels amazing, Hisoka." You admit, gasping and practically screaming as he continues his fucking you from the new position he put you in. Your eyes once again roll to the back of your head from the sheer force that he's pumping into you. You're a sweaty mess while Hisoka remains good as new, the workout hardly giving him any strain. You let out a cry as one of his thumbs connects with your clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts. Hisoka moans as you tighten around him and he continues to push into you, harsher now. Your vocality rings through his ears, heating up his body more if possible. His flushed face grows darker still and he singles in on his primary focus: making you cum again. He breathes heavily, thrusting into you at a now impossibly fast pace. Your moans feed into screams, your eyes closed from the intensity of his fucking you. He continues to finger your clit, focusing on your orgasm. He wasn't even close to his, but he decides that your release is more of a spectacle than his own. He zeroes in on it, listening as your moans reach a higher octave. Then, without warning, you arch your back for the last time, crying out as you reach your peak. Your walls milk him, but he refuses to cum, just watching your face as your orgasm rips through you for the third time. He'd definitely remember that face until he's cut from this world. He pulls out of you, settling on massaging your clit a little longer as you ride out the waves of euphoria. You twitch and moan breathlessly, gasping for air from the come down. Hisoka just watches, enjoying your facial expressions. You were certainly something. He stops touching you when you come down completely, breathing harshly. Your flustered eyes open, looking at his still lust-filled ones.

"I...," You start. Hisoka listens, tilting his head in curiosity. "I was assigned here to find you, Hisoka." You pant, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your eyes are encircled in that hard set determination yet again as you tell him this. "My orders are to dispose of you." You admit, hardening your gaze. Hisoka smiles...and it's not a nice one. "Is that so?" He chuckles, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Tell me more as you sing for me...[Y/N].~ We've still got ten hours left for you to tell me all."

_______

Word count: 5,000+

Next chapter should arrive sometime today on Saturday, May 1st. I’m so sorry for the delay ;-;

#fanfic #hisoka x reader #hisoka smut #hisoka x reader smut #hunter x hunter smut

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betelgeuse-1988 · 3 years

Text

pale blue eyes: obi-wan/reader

hey so i fell in love with ewan mcgregor recently and proceeded to watch all of the prequels and started the clone wars. how dangerous! probably more obi-wan content in the near future. sorry if this isn't canon compliant...i don't know enough about star wars and i'm so sorry!! give me tips if you have any

obi-wan is also probably totally ooc and i’ve definitely disregarded the jedi code (bc screw the code!) but...i don’t care...obi-wan is too beautiful for that lmao. if anyone can handle a little temptation from the darkside and still be a good jedi, it’s obi

tags: smut, fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning (mention of death), master/padawan dynamic (sorta), possessive sex/behavior, rough sex, marking (hickies), smoking, implied age difference, porn with feelings (and maybe plot), dirty talk

There was something oh so terrifying about being a Padawan. Of course, it was all you had ever known, but realizing that there would be a day when no one would be there to hold your hand as you traversed the daily experiences of being a Jedi was overwhelmingly terrifying. But, what was even more terrifying was the thought alone of losing your Master.

Actually losing her before you’d finished your training could only be described as unquantifiable.

Obi-Wan broke the news to you soon after reporting to the council after the mission on some outer-rim planet went wrong and led to several Jedi being killed. He spared you the details as you broke down in front of him, apologizing immediately for letting your emotions get the best of you. You tried your best to keep everything in, especially in front of one of the best Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan looked down the hallway before slowly walking you back into your quarters. He sat you down on your small bed, taking a seat next to you.

“I know how you feel right now, as I too lost my Master. But, you must remember your Master has returned to the Force. She has become something better and will always be with you. It will be difficult, but as time passes the intensity of your emotions will fade.”

You looked up into his blue eyes, the truth behind them reinforcing what you sensed in the Force. His statements were genuine, facts that had been seen in countless other Jedi who had experienced what you did; but, his eyes (and the Force) held a sadness that seemed as if it was too big and too fragile to even consider touching. Having heard some pieces of what had happened to Master Kenobi and his Padawan, it seemed as if he never had enough time to grieve. He never had time to consider what loss meant and how to deal with it. The words he spoke seemed to be monotonous, as if they were a mantra he thought to himself often. An attempt to rid himself of emotions that council members told him that he would be drawn to the darkside because of them.

“And yet,” you said, pausing to control your breathing, a few tears escaping your eyes now and then. “Those emotions will never go away, huh?”

Obi-Wan broke your gaze, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m...I’m sorry, I’m not helping, am I?” He let out a sad chuckle before looking back at you. “It’s just...I know too well how you feel. And yet, I cannot bring myself to tell you that you must rid yourself of these emotions because they will lead you astray. I so wish that one person would have allowed me to feel, just for one moment.”

You take his hand into yours, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Master Kenobi. And I only hope that you are able to take your own advice, too.”

“I will try, young one.”

After this moment, you found yourself drawn to Obi-Wan in the late hours of the night. Master Windu took over the last few weeks of your training before your trials. When you were not training or sleeping and Obi-Wan was not training his Padawan, you were together. This often caused you both to spend late nights in one of your quarters (most often his, as they were bigger). At first there was nothing sexual or even romantic about these meetings. They allowed you both to explore your grief and help each other control emotions most Jedi would consider distracting or unwanted. It was nice to feel safe in your emotions.

At least, until your emotions became romantic feelings for Obi-Wan.

This realization hit you like a podracer a few weeks after you became a Jedi. You had been given a mission to protect a queen from an outer-rim planet visiting Naboo for a week. The distance alone is not what caused you to realize these feelings. Obi-Wan and his Padawan had been sent on small missions in the past few weeks, causing you to go days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, but training for your trials could fill the void he left. But, now, being away and nearly bored out of your mind in your down time was horrible. You felt a constant sense of longing and desire that you could only trace back to Master Kenobi. Your thoughts would drift back to late nights you spent with the sweet man who could comfort you with only a smile. Thoughts of running your hands through his auburn hair as you begged him to keep growing it out, especially with the beard. Watching his eyes flutter closed as you gave him a massage through his undershirt. He lets out little groans and moans, telling you to push harder in certain spots. Holding his large, calloused hand in yours as you cuddle close together on his bed. It wasn’t until the final day of your assignment that these thoughts turned sexual.

You laid in bed, too excited over going back to Coruscant and having a few days off. A half-dreaming vision formed in your mind of Obi-Wan laying in his bed. The image became clearer and you realized that his sleeping pants were pushed down slightly, his hand grasping his cock tightly. A moan slipped past his lips, the words he choked out indecipherable as he thrusted harshly into his fist. You attempt to will away this vision but it’s stuck--almost engraved--in your mind, drifting in and out like a boat rocking back and forth on waves. His thrusts seemed desperate, as if he had been attempting to reach his climax long before you created this vision. He moans again, this time it is clearer and louder than before: your name. It slips past his lips smoothly as he finally tenses slightly, forcing his hips upwards. Cum shot out of his cock as his thrusts stuttered to a stop and his hand took over. Some particularly thick shots hit his lower stomach, covering the hair above his cock. The rest flooded slowly over the tip and down onto his hand. He groaned all through his climax, panting once he had finished completely. Your mind often drifted back to these images as you fell in and out of sleep throughout the night.

Getting back to Coruscant was a welcome return home. After your report to the council, you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin waiting for you outside of the chambers. You found it difficult, at first, to hold Obi-Wan’s gaze as he greeted you.

“Hello, Master Kenobi. What are you doing here?”

“I heard you got back. If you’d like, Anakin and I would like to take you to Dex’s,” he says simply, a wide smile on his face. Anakin gave you a toothy grin, excited to gorge himself on greasy diner food.”How was your mission, young one?”

You smiled widely, slightly forgetting about the waking-dream that had been plaguing your mind. “Sounds like a great idea. I can tell you all about my mission over dinner, then, I suppose?” Obi-Wan nodded in response, a smile (albeit smaller) on his face mirroring yours and Anakin’s.

After dinner at Dex’s, Obi-Wan dismissed Anakin to his chambers (though, Obi would confide in you that he knew for a fact his was talking to his fellow Padawans late into the night, to which you would chastise him for doing the same thing with you) and invited you to his own to meditate. The walk there was quiet, yet comfortable. But, as you reached his quarters, you saw the bed that was ingrained into your visions from the night before. The panic and embarrassment ran through you, piling heavy in your stomach and causing you to stop in your tracks at his doorway. Obi-Wan took off his boots quickly and made his way to the large window at the opposite side of the room.

“You can come all the way in, y’know?” Obi-Wan said once he realized you had not followed, his tone light and playful. He was teasing you, like he always did, always a flirt. And yet, tonight, it made you nervous. You took slow steps towards him after taking your boots off by the door, meeting him at the window he liked to meditate at. “Are you okay? No witty comeback for your favorite Jedi?” He moved to cup your face but you turned away, noticing it was the hand he had so elegantly wrapped around his cock in your vision.

You looked back at him and shook your head, your eyes becoming watery out of embarrassment and fear. You knew you needed to talk to him before this got any worse. “C-can I talk to you about something?” He nodded, his face becoming serious, and sat down on the plush cushions he used to begin meditating. He patted on one next to him and you sat after taking off your cloak. You two sat almost too close, knees touching. You could almost smell him and could almost feel the calming warmth radiating off of him. “I...During my missions I was plagued by visions, Master Kenobi.”

He frowned slightly at what you said, worried about the potential dangers of visions Jedi see. “You do not need to use my title in my quarters, young one,” he said, calmly, so as not to scare you or make you feel he was reprimanding you. “But you can tell me anything. What were in these visions, young one?”

You sighed, attempting to muster the strength in admitting what you saw. Obi-Wan could sense your struggle and reached out to touch your knee gently. You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, closing your eyes to center yourself. The minute you opened your mouth, the word-vomit flowed fast. “They were of you. They began as nice and comforting. Domestic moments. Like holding your hand or cuddling. I could see myself doing that with any friend. But...last night, it was sexual. I, uhm, watched you...pleasure yourself. Y-you moaned my name. Maker, I feel like I’ve used you, I am so sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“This happened last night?” he asked, blushing slightly under your curious gaze. You nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this. “Then I don’t think you were making these visions up, darling.”

Your jaw dropped, with Obi-Wan only smirking back at you. “W-what do you mean?”

“I think you saw me, somehow. I saw some of those visions you described earlier in the week, too. Perhaps we are connected, young one.” He looked at you processing what he just said and smiled. “I like you, a lot. I admire your work as a Jedi and I am so proud to see how much you have grown since I first talked to you that night your master died.” He moved the hand that was resting in his lap to cup your cheek. “I believe I have fallen for you. I am sorry that you had to see me in such an inappropriate state, however. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me.”

“No! I mean, I do. I want to be with you. I never imagined that you would ever want to be with someone like me.” You smiled brightly, giddy about this change in your relationship with Obi-Wan. “And, if I may say, you looked quite beautiful last night. I am honored that you thought of me just as I have thought of you. Although, you have a much different imagination than I do.” The man in front of you blushed and chuckled brightly, almost proud of what he had done.

The hand on your knee tentatively moved further up your thigh. “Perhaps I can spark your imagination?”

You shifted to be on your knees, placing your hands on his thighs. You leaned close to him, almost brushing your lips against his. You were able to feel the tickle of his beard on your face as you whispered out, “Perhaps I can fulfill yours?” You pressed your lips against his as he shoves his hands through your hair, tugging on it slightly. Even as he moaned, you tasted the strawberry milkshake you shared with him at Dex’s. But, as you kissed him deeper, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, you tasted tabac, causing your mind to wander. You never thought of Obi-Wan indulging in the toxic substance, but you can’t bring yourself to be surprised. Images of Obi-Wan shirtless, just-fucked and sweaty, his hair a mess, flooded your mind. A cigarra hung from his mouth, barely hanging on to it as he took puffs from it.

A nasty habit Obi’s voice rings through your mind, almost embarrassed, I can’t seem to kick it, young one. I hope you aren’t angry.

You pulled away and cupped his face. Not wanting to ruin the tender moment of vulnerability, you kissed him lightly and projected your thoughts to him, I could not be mad at you. I find it shamefully attractive, but if you are ready to quit, I know you can.

He smiled into the kiss as you pulled away to begin stripping. “Allow me to help you,” he said, moving to push your robes off your shoulders as you took off the belt around your waist. You shrugged the robes off of you completely and threw them to the side, followed by your undershirt. Obi-Wan moved to help you take your pants off, but you stopped him.

“Allow me to help you, Master Kenobi?” he blushed and leaned back, copying your actions by starting with his belt. You help to shrug off his outer robes followed by his undershirt. You admire his chest, speckled with freckles. You pushed him down lightly, his back hitting his carpeted floor lightly. “You are truly beautiful, Master.” You kissed his chest lightly, kneeling at his side and helping him to shove his pants and undergarments off. Even though you had seen his member the night before, it was different in person and being able to see it uncovered by his hand. Semi-hard, all you could think was that it would look even more beautiful in the moonlight and neon lights streaming from the window. You flicked your hand, flipping the light switch by the door.

“I was going to ask if you liked what you saw, young one, but it seems I was wrong,” Obi-Wan hummed.

You smirked, taking his cock in your hands. “Oh, I do, but I am one for aesthetics and I would prefer to be fucked under the moonlight.” You jerk him off slightly, getting him hard. As your movements become a tad more difficult, you hold your hand up to the man’s mouth. “Spit, please.” He looked at you with a raised brow but spits. You rubbed it up and down his cock, making your movements much smoother. You squeezed lightly around his cock and he began to thrust lightly under your touch. You moved to lean down and use your mouth on his cock, but Obi-Wan stopped you.

“Let me get you ready so I can fuck you under the moonlight, just like you want, my young one.”

He moved you down to lay on the floor, pushing one of his cushions underneath your head. After helping you out of your remaining clothes, he shoved the other pillow under your hips, angling them upwards. He then kissed down your chest, as if attempting to kiss away the moonlight with how fervently he pressed his lips to your skin. Yet, as you pushed his hair back to get a clear view of his serene face, you thought he may be trying to pin down the moonlight to your skin. The way his gaze locked with yours showed how intensely he cared about this moment. His kisses acted as an attempt to encapsulate you in the light, an attempt to preserve this moment forever. You were not just another nightly escapade (not that either of you had many of those, both unknowingly too caught up in being smitten by the other). Rather, in this moment, Obi-Wan was declaring he was going to make love to you with each and every kiss pressed to your skin. The final kiss he pressed to your skin was your clit. Once this was finished, he began fingering you, stretching you with two fingers immediately and suckling on your clit. You gasped and moaned under his touch, fingers diving into his hair.

I want to make you mine, young one. After we began talking I wished I had fought with the council more to train you instead for the remainder of your time as a Padawan. Perhaps we could have been here sooner.

“Master Kenobi,” you moaned aloud. Not being able to form words verbally, you responded with the Force. How I began to wish the same. I suppose, then, I was always yours?

He pulled off of you, but added a third finger to his thrusts, smiling up at you brightly. “Yes. And I suppose I was always yours, then, too?”

“Yes,” you moaned out, high pitched, almost squeaking. You hummed and tried again, regardless of if Obi heard you the first time, “Yes, Master, you’re mine.” Obi-Wan’s smile somehow grew, but he quickly went back to working on you with his mouth. However, this time, he leaned more on his arm that he’s using to finger you. That way, his other hand was free to jerk himself off. You only noticed when he moaned against your clit lightly. “Master Kenobi, are you--”

Yes, he sent you, almost strained as if he was speaking, I think I could cum just by eating you out, I wouldn’t even need to touch myself.

“I wouldn’t want that,” you said, pushing his head lightly, “so why don’t you fuck me instead?”

He pulled his head up and smiled, “Anything for you, my darling.” He stood up, pulling you to join him, and guided you toward the bed, stopping by his drawers to grab a condom. Laying down on the bed, you watched him roll the condom over his cock and climb onto the bed with you. He kneeled between your legs, pulling up your leg to rest it on his hip. He used his other hand to grip your hip and pulled you towards him. You gasped, both at the sudden movement and his member pushing into your pussy slowly. “Such a good girl, taking me so perfectly. You can take me all, right, my young one?” You nodded your head fiercely, unable to form a coherent thought as he continued to thrust in and out of you, each thrust going deeper than the last.

Once he settled into you completely, your hands fisted his bedsheets roughly. “So full, you fill me up so nice, Master Kenobi.” You shifted your hips against him, attempting to get him to thrust into you. His grip on your hip dissipated as he moved to push down on them. You moved your hand over his, pushing down on it lightly while also gripping his hand.

“Is there something you need from your Master, young Jedi?” Your grip on his hand tightened as you nodded. “What do you need? You can use your words.” You blushed as you attempted to quantify what you wanted him to do. You attempted to shift your hips as the position became uncomfortable from being held for so long without moving. “Please, princess. I want to give you what you want, but I will not move until you tell me.”

“I want you...I…” you trailed off, becoming embarrassed for what you were trying to ask. You threw your head to the side and thought to him, I want you to mark me. I don’t care if it hurts. I want to know, as long as the bruises last, that I am yours. I want to hold on to this moment.

“Is that all, young one?” You nodded in response, trying not to embarrass yourself more than you felt you had. “There is nothing to be embarrassed over, sweet girl. I want to please you, and the only way I can do that is if I know what you want. Never be embarrassed when asking for what you want.”

You smiled as his hand moved back to your hip, his grip stronger than before. Timidly, you add on, “Can you also move, Obi-Wan? I...I need it.” He silently responded by squeezing your hip and thrusting into you. He quickly picked up speed, however, thrusting into you desperately. Obi-Wan shifts, dropping the leg he held at his hip to be able to lean over you. Moaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close. Your fingers delved into his hair, tugging at it as he thrust into you just right. Obi-Wan moaned at that, flicking his hips faster in response.

“Where do you want me to mark you, hm? Maybe a place above your robes so all the other Jedi Masters will see and know you’re mine?” You tensed slightly under him, even as your pussy clenched. “No, darling? I didn’t mean to worry you. I will make sure no one can see.” Obi-Was pressed light kisses to your collarbone, as he had before, but quickly began to suck on your collarbone and lined it with love bites.

Too overwhelmed with the pleasure, you think to Obi-Wan, Perhaps another time, you can make them more visible. Let everyone know I am yours and yours alone.

He only hummed in response as he busied himself with bruising your skin. You shoved a hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit in small circles.

Am I not good enough for you, young one?

You stopped your movements and began to stammer out an excuse.

I am only teasing, darling. I want you to cum on my cock. And, you’re making it much easier for me to achieve that goal.

You both continued like this, attempting to reach your climaxes by pulling on Obi’s hair, him suckling on your skin to leave marks, and you circling your clit. Eventually, your legs tensed and you lifted your hips up towards him. You gasped, the inner walls of your pussy fluttering around his cock. “Obi-Wan, I’m cumming,” you exclaimed, moaning even more as you flung your head back against the pillows.

“Let go, love. Cum for me, show me you’re mine.”

Your hips stuttered against his, legs tensing and shaking on either side of the Jedi Master. He pulled up and off of you, shifting back onto his knees. He thrust through your orgasm, attempting to reach his own. He moved his hands again to grip your hips tightly, bringing you against him roughly. Obi-Wan moaned as he thrust into you as fast as he could, wanting to cum so badly. “Cum for me, Master. I can sense how desperate you are, n’ I wanna know I made you cum. You came inside your young Jedi’s cunt, all for her. Only for her.” His hips began to stutter irregularly against you as he came, moaning your name just as he did the night before. Obi-Wan eventually stalled against you, collapsing slightly. “After that show, you can put your full weight on me. You deserve it, and I don’t want you to pull out just yet,” You said, rubbing his head gently..

“I always had a feeling you’d be insatiable,” Obi-Wan chuckled. He leaned his full weight on top of you. It was surprisingly comforting, especially after his rough grip and bruising kisses. He snuggled into your neck, pressing sloppy kisses against it, as your hands settled at his waist. “I can only hope to completely satiate you, one day, I suppose.”

“You did perfectly fine, Obi-Wan. For now.” He finally pulled off of you, forcing you to come to his refresher with him to clean up. When you finally laid back down in his bed, both of you naked and comfortable in each other’s arms, you were too tired to do anything more than hum in content. Just as you were trailing off to sleep, a warm thought entered your brain.

I love you, young one. Never forget that.

You responded quickly, though you assumed the sleepiness that would have been present in your voice was also present in your thoughts.

I love you, too, Obi.

#obi wan imagine #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #fanfic #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic

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moondustis · 4 years

Text

on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary: “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

act 1: messy affairs

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently.

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year.

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start. That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again.

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny.

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time.

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question.

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says.

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly.

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks.

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you.

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more.

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you.

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out.

"Well he's hot." That too.

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot.

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them.

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud.

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other.

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him.

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?"

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something."

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face.

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips.

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow.

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you.

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good.

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about.

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in.

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation.

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs.

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine.

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it.

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there.

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks.

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles.

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin.

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more.

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him.

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good."

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work.

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with.

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it."

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me."

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself.

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you.

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake.

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...”

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums.

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this.

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time.

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?"

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush. "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it.

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier.

"Had fun night?"

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it. "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him.

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday."

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away.

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks.

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water.

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened.

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well.

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you.

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on.

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake.

"I'm being serious."

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are.

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection.

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early.

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus.

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer.

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party."

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose.

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know.

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from."

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?"

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny.

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl."

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him.

"Sure." You take a sip of your own. "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch. "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask. "Ok then, why psychology?"

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that. "What about you? Why did you choose business?"

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on."

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say, "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least.

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used."

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time.

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself.

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep.

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often.

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone.

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile.

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him.

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles.

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study."

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do."

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well.

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did.

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask.

He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile.

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile.

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now.

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan.

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom.

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face.

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

act 3: yellow light (hit the brakes)

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people.

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about.

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it.

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile.

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound.

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually. "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out."

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours.

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really.

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?"

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome.

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?"

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?"

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that.

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you."

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right."

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest.

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have.

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then."

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue. "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be.

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on?

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful.

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason.

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend.

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone.

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little."

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it.

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past.

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore.

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing.

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye.

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore.

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened.

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late.

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself.

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy.

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much.

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away.

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation.

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it.

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief.

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice.

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily.

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic.

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back.

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.”

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come.

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful.

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again.

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt.

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it.

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour.

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for.

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago.

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar.

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs.

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.”

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this.

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years.

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.”

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.”

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.”

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.”

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums.

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly.

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.”

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.

#johnny scenarios #JOHNNY SMUT #nct smut #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #i honestly think this is bad lol #but well ENJOY

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

Crown

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Prompt by: @ohboyitscringe

Word Count: 13,998

A/N: This is a long masterpiece and definitely worth your time

Weak sunlight shown through the window, illuminating the room in a dull orange light. The air of frustration was heavy in the air as your parents argued with you. Heels clicked on the floor as you paced the room angrily.

“Y/n, you need to wed,” Your father argued, voice heavy and determined.

“You expect me to wed some prince or princess who does not how to rule a kingdom,” You stopped pacing to face him, frustration lacing your tone. “let alone fix their hair.”

Your mother, who usually sympathized with you and let you get away with rejecting proposals, was also exasperated with you. The queen sat on the bed, posture hunched, her eyes tired and drooping low. The argument had been going on for over an hour. Multiple servants had entered and exited already. But after the king demanded they leave, none came back.

“The princess we met last was suitable,” The Queen commented.

“You truly think so?” You asked, raising a perfect eyebrow at the statement. Your mother sighed and looked down on the ground, aware of the talk which was about to follow.

“Y/n…” Your father trailed off, glancing from his wife to you. He knew better than anyone how much you’d despised your last suitor.

“No, the first time we met she seemed alright.” You scoffed, clenching your jaw, then threw your hands up in exasperation.

“But all she knows how to do is flirt and get her way no matter what. I’m not marrying a brat.” You stated malice in your tone. Your father was visibly frustrated with you, but you knew he couldn’t force you to do anything.

“Then don’t marry!” The king shouted, using his authoritative tone he used when dealing with infuriating politicians or citizens.

It was a tone you feared as a child, whenever he spoke to you this way your first reaction had been to obey. But you’d learned otherwise, you were under no obligation to take orders from him. It was this habit of yours which infuriated him the most.

“If only it was that simple.” You remarked, turning away from him.

Your mother opened her mouth to say something, probably to calm down your father like she usually did during these arguments. But a messenger opened the heavy door to the room, attracting the attention of your family.

It was a girl, about 20 years old, blonde hair tied up, she wore the uniform that all the messengers wore and held a thin roll of parchment. Her green eyes darted around nervously, taking in the scene in front of her as she bowed in respect. You’d never seen her before, you assumed she was new.

The new ones were more scared of your father than anyone else. You didn’t blame them, they were seeing the king for the first time. If they made the smallest mistake he could have them sent out of the castle. The golden crown glinting in the light on his head a constant reminder of his power.

“I said we must not be disturbed.” Your father sneered, brow furrowing in anger.

The messenger visibly cowered in the king's presence. Your mother rolled your eyes at the antics and beckoned her to hand over the parchment. The messenger bowed and handed the queen the parchment, backing away towards the door quickly after catching your father’s glare.

“This was an urgent message from a new kingdom east from us.” The messenger explained, gesturing weakly to the parchment in the queen’s hand.

You rolled your eyes at the statement. The most urgent message that could be was a thief or the most excitement in an urgent message was a wedding proposal. The latter seemed unlikely after the events with your last suitor.

“It’s a marriage proposal from the recently occupied valley.” Your mother stated, eyes widening as she read it.

“Another one?” You asked sarcastically.

The last message had been from a peasant valley just north of you. It had been a mistake to visit, the prince who had sent the proposal was no more than an uneducated soldier.

However, this message seemed to be more urgent. The queen didn’t hesitate to show your father the wedding proposal. When the king saw it, his eyes widened as he read the page, taking in every word. They whispered in rapid succession behind the large scroll. You crossed your arms at the scene unfolding in front of you.

When they were done conspiring, they turned to face you. Your mother seemed to be giddy with excitement, while your father was smiling seriously.

“You must get your things, you’re leaving in a few days.” Your father stated, leaving no room for argument.

Already exhausted from arguing, you decided not to object. Instead, you asked why you were going. Several proposals had already been rejected, you didn’t understand why this one was so special.

“To a valley?” You asked incredulously, your arms uncrossing in shock. “For what purpose?”

Your father handed you the unraveled parchment. You sighed and took it, skimming over it quickly. The messenger who was still standing at the door was unsure whether to leave or stay. Her feet shifted noisily under her, but she stopped when she caught your glare over the parchment.

The scroll was simple, it was from the leader of a group of warriors who had recently taken over a nearby valley. It was a marriage proposal from the leader of their group rather than the king or queen. But it was worded as more of an invitation.

They were inviting you to spend a month at their castle to settle marriage negotiations. Nowhere did it say who the marriage proposal was from.

There were other notes on the sides by politicians who had been shown this proposal. None of which objected to the invitation. Not that you were surprised, a powerful ally, a princess, what could go wrong?

“This seems overly familiar.” You commented, rolling up the parchment and handing it back to the messenger. The girl made a small bow and accepted it, fidgeting with the thin parchment noiselessly.

“You’re going tomorrow.” The queen commanded, her tone strict and assertive.

“But the valley is filled with burglars.” You argued, hoping she would see the risk.

But it didn’t seem like either of your parents was going to let this pass. Your mother sighed, knowing you were trying to get out of it. Your father refused to let this pass.

“We’ll send our best knight with you.” The king stated.

You opened your mouth to argue. Say anything, object these redundant proposals. But before you could, the nervous messenger girl interrupted you.

“Forgive me but,” She began, but stopped when the royal family turned to glare at her.

The messenger gulped loudly, you saw the hint of a smirk on your father’s face. He liked making people nervous, a trait you had gained from him.

“But the kingdom has already arranged for a knight to come for her safety.” The messenger finished.

Relief washed over your parent's faces. But this news darkened your features. It only secured your travel to this valley.

“Then that’s taken care of,” Your mother smiled. The messenger looked visibly relieved when the king’s features softened.

“When is this knight arriving?” He asked, tone softer as not to frighten the girl.

“Tonight,” She answered promptly. You bit back a groan at her answer.

“Have them sent to y/n’s room once they arrive.” The king instructed.

The messenger bowed and left as quickly as she had come, closing the door behind her with a dull clank. You turned to face your parents, both of them wore stern expressions. They had worn this expression before when you had tried to get out of another engagement. Even though you made your way out eventually, you weren’t sure you’d be able to this time.

Groaning, you left the room and slammed the door shut on the way to your room. Dinner was in two hours, you were expected to attend. Since you were leaving tomorrow, your father was going to throw an exquisite feast. Usually, you loved them, the endless scores of people giving you a distraction from the incessant whining of your parents.

But this time, you couldn’t feel less inclined to attend. You were assigned a knight to guard you all the time. Every move of yours was watched by someone. It was attention you were used to, but it wasn’t welcome when you wished to be alone.

The knight you were expecting was similar to the knights surrounding your mother and your father. Men and women who had nothing more to do than fight. More often than not, they had less intelligence than that of a squirrel.

It wouldn’t take much to impress you, but you had certain expectations from a knight assigned to protect you.

———————

Muffled footsteps sounded outside your door, the rushed taking of cooks and waitresses as well as the necessary chatter of messengers. The noise was a welcome distraction from the thoughts inside your head. Golden jewelry glinted in the candlelight in front of you as you slid the elegant earrings through your ear.

A familiar knock at your bedroom door cuts through the sound of voices. The knock was a code between one of your helpers, Mia and you. It was so you always knew who was outside your door. But lately, a few messengers had been copying the knock to gain access. You hadn’t had the time to change the code yet.

“Who is it?” You asked, not bothering to look away from the intricately decorated mirror in front of you.

“It’s me,” The voice confirmed it was Mia.

“The knight has arrived, your father had asked for her to be sent to your room,” Mia explained her disturbance.

“Her?” You muttered, setting down the earring and turning to face the door.

A light frown ghosted over your face. Female knights, or as they were addressed formally, Dames, were not uncommon. But they weren’t common either. Your expectations consisted of a knight who knew too little about how to conduct himself. Not of a woman who had worked to get where she was.

“Send her in,” You instructed.

The door opened, Mia entered, the tall, pale, brunette wore a simple gown, already prepared for the feast. She smiled at you warmly. You smiled back at her, gaze flickering to the knight behind her.

It wasn’t the usual armor the knights wore, rather a sleek, thick, black leather suit with heels and fingerless gloves. Skintight was out of the question for armor, so it wasn’t body-con, but it wasn’t exactly loose either.

The helmet was a heavily stylized variation of the normal armor, a vertical slit rather than the usual horizontal slits. There was a faded black widow mark near the side of it. On the arm, there was a small symbol, it looked like an A but with an arrow. It was a dark silver, barely showing over the black of the suit.

“Princess y/n, this is Dame Natasha Romanoff,” Mia gestured from you to the woman behind her.

The woman, Natasha, bowed, trying to hide her face for a reason you could not understand. Despite the woman’s efforts, you caught sight of tantalizing green eyes. Despite the unusual armor, her manners were impeccable, she didn’t stand up unless she was asked by you.

“Thank you, Mia,” You thanked, smiling at her.

You had been correct to assume she had other duties to attend to. Mia smiled at you gratefully and bowed, exiting the room and closing the door quietly behind her. Natasha stayed in her bow, you weren’t sure how to instruct her.

“You can sit down,” You remarked, gesturing to the ottoman in front of your bed.

The luxurious rugs and furs surrounding it seemed to intimidate her. But Natasha sat down on the ottoman after pushing away the few dresses you’d thrown on it before selecting. The dress you wore was an elegant blue and emerald green gown.

“Do you speak? Or did they send me a mute knight?” You asked, almost joking as to lighten the atmosphere which had suddenly become heavy and awkward. Turning around to face the mirror, you continued to put on jewelry, you still kept one eye on her.

“I speak,” Natasha answered. Her voice was raspy but softer than you had expected a woman of her stature to be. You raised your eyebrows slightly, thinking of a response when you noticed the clasp on your necklace won’t close.

Frustrated, you put it down before trying to put it on again. The knight sitting on your ottoman stared, much to your annoyance.

“Since you’re here, you might as well help,” You commented, exasperation seeping into your tone.

The knight nodded, standing up and walking behind you. You pulled your hair over your shoulder, giving the knight easy access to the necklace. The woman’s breath hitched behind you, indicating her nervousness. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, you were too similar to your father.

Natasha tried desperately not to stare at you, but you made it almost impossible. The jewelry you wore glinted in the candlelight, illuminating your features and lighting up your eyes. Licking her lips, Natasha focused on the necklace rather than your eyes. Her fingers wandered dangerously close to your skin as she pulled the clasp on the necklace shut.

“Thank you,” You said, a smile on your face as you felt her fingers tremble as she pulled away. A vague memory of your father talking about how you liked to make people nervous, just like him, flies threw your head. Smiling at the memory, you got up from the dressing table.

“Of course,” The knight said, walking away from you and resuming her seat on the ottoman.

You looked at the armor, almost as if it was offending you somehow. It didn’t seem right for someone meant to protect you to wear something so horrid to dinner. No matter how stylish armor was, it was still armor.

Sighing, you gestured towards your closet and your bed, indicating for her to change into one of the dresses. But Natasha did not get the hint.

“There’s spare dresses in there you can change into,” You explained, smoothing out the invisible ruffles in your dress.

Natasha was confused about why you would want her to change into one of your dresses. But it was not her place to question it, so she chose not to.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” The knight refused. You raised an eyebrow as a playful smirk graced your face.

“Can’t or won’t?” You asked, chuckling at your joke.

To say Natasha was surprised was an understatement. The knight was stunned, she had never met someone, let alone a princess who had the kind of ethereal appearance and attitude you had. From what she had heard, you were a graceful, almost godlike. She couldn’t agree more.

But there was more to you than just stunning appearances and gracefulness. The rumors she had heard also told how headstrong you were. All of the rumors about you, no matter how unbelievable, were proving themselves true.

“Suit yourself,” You shrugged when Natasha didn’t respond.

“You’re welcome to stay here or join us at the feast,”

When she didn’t react, you walked past her, your dress barely brushing her armor. But the perfume you wore blasted into her nose, it smelled like rose petals, new candles. Natasha almost stumbled, she corrected herself before you could notice.

You opened the door, letting the smell of freshly baked bread and strong wine greet you as well as the loud talking of people downstairs greet you. All of the attention in the room turned to you, observing your every move.

Smiling, you descended the stairs to the feast.

Feeling like you were being followed, you turned your head to see Natasha behind you, far enough not to step on your dress but close enough for you to catch another glimpse of her emerald eyes. Doubt filled you, you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to the feeling of being followed everywhere.

———————

The feast went far better than you had expected. Even though the green-eyed knight’s eyes were always on you, you tried to enjoy yourself. When you began to get bored of the usual talking and joking with your father’s friends, the daughter of one of the nobles began flirting with you.

The woman pretended not to know about the marriage proposal, and you didn’t bring it up. The rest of the night you spent talking to her, flirting, and eating the exquisite feast prepared for you.

Natasha wasn’t enjoying herself nearly as much as you were. Her position was near the back of the room, near the other knights. As the other knights ate and jested about the many tournaments they had won, Natasha stayed quiet, her eyes trained on you.

Green eyes burned with jealousy as she watched you flirt with the noble’s daughter. There was no reason for her to be jealous. Her job was to simply protect you from any harm, nothing more. The only reason she was here was because she needed to get away from her life for a few days. Natasha wasn’t here for any other reason.

Once the feast had ended, you politely excused yourself from the women surrounding you. The noble’s daughter seemed to be particularly insistent on staying with you. After catching sight of Natasha looming threateningly, she stopped.

You laughed at the interaction but paid no more heed to it. While walking up the long flights of stairs to your room, you noticed the knight behind you made little to no noise while walking. It was a welcome change from the clunky loudness of the armor of the other knights.

Entering your room, you saw there were three large trunks set in the corner of your room. The dresses which had previously been on your bed weren’t there anymore. Mia was cleaning your room when she noticed you standing in the open doorway.

“Dame Romanoff,” The woman smiled at the knight behind you. “We have arranged for you to sleep in the room adjacent to Princess y/n’s.”

Mia gestured to the wall on her right. Natasha turned and examined the door and nodded to her. There was a helper behind her to cater to her needs, but the knight waved her off.

“Thank you,” Natasha said. The knight bowed before leaving, closing the door to her room behind her with a heavy thud.

You observed her, standing in the empty doorway for some time. Mia knew you were observing her, as you always did with new arrivals into the palace. Seconds passed until you finally turned away from the closed door and entered your room.

“How long has she been a knight for?” You asked, closing the door to your room and going towards the dressing table to take off the endless amount of jewelry adorning you.

“All her life apparently,” Mia answered, taking a seat on the large bed behind you.

“There’s a rumor around that she was trained in the red room.” She said in a hushed tone, scared the secret would leave your room.

Your eyes widened at the implications. The red room was well known to anyone who knew a knight. It was an almost mythical place, only some of the best dames came from there. But you’d heard different rumors. The rumors said it was as ruthless as it was mythical. You found yourself pitying the knight in the adjacent room.

“That would explain the black widow mark on her helmet,” You remarked, recalling the faded black widow mark on the side of her helmet.

“She can’t be,” Mia muttered, her voice barely audible.

You frowned, starting to take off your earrings and tilting your head to look at her. The helper looked as scared as she was in awe. Her eyes wide, staring at the wall adjacent to the green-eyed knight’s.

“Can’t be who?” You asked, turning around to face her.

Rumors were more known to the maids and the helpers than to the nobles or the royal family themselves. A majority of the rumors you had heard had been conveyed through Mia or one of the other helpers.

But this was something new, you’d never seen Mia in such awe.

“There’s a myth about the black widow,” Mia began, fidgeting with her hands in her lap “She’s one of the most famous knights of the group called the Avengers.”

Now you were dumbfounded. The Avengers was a famed group of warriors who feared no one. They had been rumored to take over the valley you had just received a marriage proposal from. Perhaps this was why your parents were adamant about sending you there. A wedding to an Avenger would show how powerful their kingdom was.

“They sent an avenger to protect me?” You verified, surprised they had sent the Black Widow to protect you. Turning around to face the mirror, you continued taking off your jewelry.

“It’s impressive,”

“To say the least,” You remarked, struggling with the clasp on the necklace Natasha had tied for you. Mia chuckled behind you, moving to help you with the necklace. She took it off and placed it in one of the drawers of the table silently.

“We’ll find out how good their suitor is when we get there,” You stated, taking off all your jewelry and looking at yourself in the mirror. Licking your lips, you finished taking off the makeup and sat on the bed, staring at the wall joining your room to Natasha’s

You doubted you would ever understand why you were assigned an Avenger to protect you. All you had was hope that this would end better than you expected.

———————

Tomorrow came sooner than you had expected. You’d awoken to helpers surrounding you to help you get ready for the travel. A majority of your things were already in the large caravan for your travel. Natasha was in charge of security and had taken some of your father’s best knights with her.

The valley was a day’s travel from your kingdom, you were expected just after sunrise tomorrow. You dressed in a simple, rust-colored gown with a black cloak over it. The caravan in the middle was yours, it was driven by a knight you didn’t know.

Mia sat in your caravan to give you company, she talked about the rumors she had heard of the valley that had been occupied. It was said that their celebrations were often but spectacular each time. They were some of the richest and the most powerful.

The day had passed rather slowly, the only time travel had stopped was for meals which consisted of heavily spiced meat, wine, bread, and cheese. The bread was a little soggy, as a result of a water canister spilling into the bag.

Travel was the most despicable part of journeying to a suitor. The food was horrid, there was little to no privacy in the tents which were set up. You had your tent, which was near the circle of tents that had been arranged.

It felt like you were being watched by everyone in the camp, you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. Dark fantasies of being kidnapped in the night kept you well awake past midnight. Eventually, you fell asleep to the sounds of the forest you were camped in.

However, you were interrupted from your peaceful sleep by the loud yet familiar clanging of swords and shouting. Opening the flap to your tent, you looked outside to see moonlight glinting off of swords, creating a silver silhouette against the dark of the camp.

One of the men lit up a lantern, the dim light exposing three men fighting one knight. But the knight wasn’t one of your father’s knights.

It was Natasha.

The green-eyed knight called for the rest of the men to tie them up. Her voice left no room for argument. It was evident she was able to hold them off by herself. The rest of the men still pulled the men back and tied them up, carrying them off to an unforeseeable punishment.

Lighting up the lantern next to you, you let the light wash over your face, making your presence known. Natasha didn’t hesitate to bow, but stood up and tucked her sword back in the sheath.

“You are safe Princess y/n,” Natasha assured, waving the rest of the knights to return to their tents.

They did so promptly, but Mia came out of her tent to make sure you were alright. She watched the interaction between you and the green-eyed knight.

“I could tell,” You remarked, keeping your composure despite the slight tremble which threatened to take over. Your fears were beginning to come back to you, taking a calming breath, you noticed the men in the camp staring, waiting for your next move

“Mia,” You called out, turning to face her. The woman made a curt bow and waited for your command.

“Move her tent nearer to mine,” You ordered, your tone authoritative like your father’s. The few people left outside glanced nervously from you to Natasha. Though your tone demanded obedience, they weren’t sure of your reasoning behind this action.

“For safety,” You explained, and they got to work.

Natasha’s tent was placed promptly next to yours. She bowed and climbed inside her tent, unsure of what to make of this interaction.

You looked at the tent flap for a few moments after Natasha had left. The green-eyed knight had shown herself capable of protecting you at every point. Somehow, it made you feel safer as you tried to fall asleep.

The fantasies of being dragged away in the night were quelled, lulling you to sleep.

———————

The arrival to the valley was later than you had expected. Delays were caused by the constant demand for breakfast while seated instead of in caravans. As a result, your arrival was just past lunch. The sun had long since risen, but it seemed like it was about to set soon

The golden rays of the sun lit up the heavily decorated entrance to the kingdom. At the front, several crowds were cheering, trying to catch a glance of the famed princess. It seemed they had all heard about you, perhaps more than you had heard about yourself.

Once you’d reached the castle gates, the horses were stopped for you and your company to step down while the horses were parked. The caravan you were in was set in front of the main gates. At the gates, two blonde men wore a similar leather armor standing there. Behind him, there were several knights dressed in similar attire, all with their helmets on

The caravan stopped, the door was opened by Mia for you to step outside. Through the open doorway, you could see the crowds of people waiting for you to step outside. It was frightening and exhilarating.

Smiling curtly, you stepped out of the caravan, your posture perfect as you walked towards the blonde men.

One of them had shoulder-length blonde hair, some of it tied up, almost framing his green eyes. His armor looked heavier, almost like it was made of metal, but it too had the Avengers symbol in the same place.

The one with shorter hair had a large white star in the center of his chest, the Avengers symbol on the arm of his suit, signifying that he was an Avenger. His deep blue eyes flickered from caravan to caravan, focusing on you as you stepped out.

“Well, I didn’t expect such a welcome,” You smiled, stopping in front of the men.

Under the helmet, Natasha wore a smirk, she had known the Avengers would throw a large celebration for your arrival. But she hadn’t expected it to surprise you.

The one with short hair smirked and introduced himself as Steve Rogers. The man behind him introduced himself as Thor, making a show of taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it.

“Welcome to our kingdom Princess Y/n,” Thor greeted, his voice deep and thunderous. You smiled and took your hand out of his reach.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

Steve made a gesture for the knights behind him to clear a pathway into the castle. The ordered into lines, surrounding the edges of the pathway while you passed through them. Natasha walked behind you, watching the knights around her intently. Mia followed Natasha, unsure of where else to be.

“The twins will show you and Romanoff your rooms,” Steve said, walking you, Natasha and Mia into the castle.

“The twins?” Mia asked, moving so she was walking next to the green-eyed knight.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” Steve explained as the five of you walked into the castle.

“Thank you,” You said, a courtesy rather than a genuine sentiment.

“And there is a feast tonight where you would meet your suitor,” His smile seemed to light up with a smile when he mentioned that. But he was quickly called away by someone. Excusing himself with a curt bow, he went to deal with different matters.

You led your company to where you assumed the twins would be. Mia followed you, confused as to where you were heading.

“Isn’t the suitor supposed to be Rogers?” Mia asked, moving past Natasha to walk next to you. The green eyes knight snorted but coughed to cover it up before you could ask. You turned to face the knight, a light frown on your face.

“That’s Captain Rogers, but no.” Natasha corrected, waving off the notion. “He’s married to Barnes.”

“Then whom am I here to wed?” You asked, confusion seeping into your tone.

“I wouldn’t say wed just yet,” Mia muttered.

You side-eyed the remark, not wanting to explain the severity of this marriage proposal. But the answer to your question interested you more than explaining.

“Carol Danvers,” Natasha answered, her voice tight and strained.

—————

Candlelight reflected off of the numerous mirrors and gold objects in the room, giving it a golden lighting. Mia sat on the ottoman, already prepared for the feast as she talked to you. Most of what she spoke of was pointless, but she was only doing it to fill the silence. It was one of the reasons you preferred her company. You never had to settle into an uncomfortable silence.

Though, uncomfortable silences came more often since Natasha was assigned to protect you. The knight barely spoke and never took off her helmet in your presence. It intrigued you, but it wasn’t your place to ask her to take it off.

Mia’s rambling filled the room while you put on your jewelry. Mia had already helped you with your makeup and putting on the dress. You still found jewelry the hardest and most annoying part about dressing up.

Unbeknownst to you, the knight in the corner of your room was staring at you, unable to take her eyes off of you. Natasha hadn’t ever met someone like you, someone who was gorgeous and carried it like a weapon. The green eyes knight was enamored with you, but she could never tell you.

When you finally got the clasp set, you sighed and got up. You turned around, giving a dazzling smile to them. Natasha took in a silent breath, admiring how the black and gold gown looked on you. The lighting flickered across your face, illuminating your eyes, and highlighting your features.

“Alright, how does this look for a dinner with the most famous warriors throughout the land?” You asked, a smile on your face as you asked the little company you had.

Mia immediately started fawning, as she usually did. Though you appreciate the barrage of compliments she was giving you, you would appreciate a change. You noticed Natasha hadn’t said anything and tilted your head to the side, spreading your arms away from your waist.

“Romanoff? Or can I call you Natasha?” You asked, addressing the knight in the corner of the room.

Natasha licked her lips under the helmet, unsure of what to say. You waited patiently, glancing down at Mia, who had turned around to face the knight.

“Natasha is alright, and you look beautiful,” Natasha finally said, the compliment not near enough to describe how you looked to her.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Mia remarked, standing up and brushing off her dress. You laughed and smoothed out the invisible ruffles in your dress.

“Now, let’s attend this feast I’ve heard so much about.” You smiled, turning from Mia to your knight.

Natasha nodded and opened the door for both of you, unable to take her eyes off of you. You pretended not to notice the staring, but you turned slightly to look at her when you caught sight of emerald green eyes under her helmet.

———————

The table was set lavishly. Different sorts of meats lay on the table, adorned with different types of ales and wines. Above it all, there were intricate decorations and candles set to illuminate the large dining hall.

The table was large enough to seat almost 20 people, but there were only twelve seated. You sat at the bottom end of the table, Mia on your left and Thor at your right. Thor wore a darker variant of his usual armor while Mia wore a delicately embroidered gown. The Maximoff twins sat across from each other, the girl, Wanda, wore a scarlet gown with dark velvet patterns. Pietro wore a light blue outfit, complimenting his bright eyes. Jarvis, or his nickname, Vision, sat next to Wanda wearing a similar outfit to Wanda.

There was an empty seat between them and the youngest members of the Avengers. Shuri, who was T’challa’s sister, wore a complex corset in white and black. She sat across from Peter Parker, who was said to be the youngest. Behind them, Sam was seated, he wore a dark outfit. Behind him, Steve and Bucky were seated on either side of your suitor.

Carol Danvers outshone the group surrounding her with ease. The blonde wore a peacock blue, floor-length gown, the back of which reached down to the middle of her back. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before, everything around you was like nothing you had ever seen before.

The feast was extravagant. During the first half an hour, you resorted to first names rather than listing their ranking and their full names.

Your knight and an archer you were told was Clint, had gone to a bar in the corner of town. You weren’t surprised by their absence, but you were confused by it. The rest of the group dismissed their behavior, speaking of their retirement, they were the oldest members alongside Steve and Tony who was retired.

Throughout the meal, you found the group to be friendlier towards you than you had expected. Past suitors only cared about your status and your appearance. Here, they seemed to care about what kind of person you were rather than superficial needs.

You found yourself enjoying yourself, laughing, and joking with the people surrounding you. The comfort which came from speaking with them was absent in speaking to the friends of your father. It was comforting in a way you weren’t used to yet.

“So y/n,” Wanda interrupted, turning to face you and resting her chin on her palm, blue-green eyes peering into yours.

“I’ve heard your parents are trying to find you a suitor,” Her voice dripped with suggestion towards the blonde at the head of the table.

Silence befell the table, they turned to look at you, stopping all conversations. You ran your tongue over your teeth, smirking and reaching forwards to take a sip of your drink. Every action you made carefully observed by the group around you.

“They are,” You answered, taking a sip of your drink as you pretended to be oblivious to the evident implication.

Conversations started again, the main topic was you and your kingdom. You smiled at the attention, far too used to it already. Looking across the table, you saw hazel eyes fixated on your every move. Tilting your head to the side, you sent a subtle wink towards her.

Carol beamed, raising her drink for a toast to you. Glasses clinked, voices sounded through the dining hall. The night was spent talking, Carol spoke to you often, asking you questions, slipping in flirtatious comments.

A week went by this way. Days were spent in the castle, talking to the group you were starting to become so familiar with. The nights were spent in lavish feasts which often lasted till late morning.

Letters were sent from your father to make up your mind under a month. The pressure was more imminent as days passed, but you paid no heed to it. But the letters were beginning to be more aggressive. He began to threaten you, his pressure on this marriage like an impending doom.

Carol spent most of her time with you, flirting, asking questions, talking to you. There were countless subtle touches, her hand brushing against yours, numerous cheek kisses. The attention bordered the line between overbearing and enjoyable.

By the end of the week, T’challa had arrived back to the castle from a battle. He wore a black cutaway coat with silver lines adorning the sleeves and the shoulders. The welcome for him was as, if not more, extravagant than the welcome for you.

On his return, a celebration was announced.

The nobles of the kingdom were expected to attend. More wine and ale than you had ever seen was imported into the castle for the famed celebration.

The night of the celebration was more extravagant than you could have ever dreamed of. Golden chandeliers were hanging from the rooftops, bathing the rooms in golden light. The main dining hall was set with lavish dishes from faraway lands.

The table was set for twenty. All of the Avengers were present, except for Natasha who had remained adamant about not attending the feast. However, you caught glances of her passing through the halls, watching you.

There were many new faces, a dark-haired woman named Valkyrie who seemed to be close friends with Thor and Carol. Valkyrie had chosen to wear a sort of leather armor with an elegant skirt flowing along her legs.

A few relatives of T’challa were present as well, celebrating his victory as well as his arrival. His mother had worn an elegant white ballgown, his sister, Shuri had chosen on a gown with vibrant colors and an elegant yet practical design. He had chosen an outfit similar to what he wore the day he arrived, minimalistic but regal.

Outfits for the party were all custom made, showing the design and taste of each person. Carol, on the other hand, had worn a peacock blue outfit, straight fit trousers, and a white and gold shirt underneath the blue jacket.

The rest of the Avengers had chosen their colors. Steve and Bucky had chosen matching outfits consisting of red, blue, and black. Sam had chosen a dark yet regal outfit with a red coat, similar to Steve’s.

Wanda and Vision had chosen a set of striking outfits with scarlet and a light yellow. The gown Wanda wore was the envy of most around you. But your entrance in the room had changed the attention in the room, all of it was directed towards you. Your gown was floor-length, a beautiful embroidery of golden roses on top of favorite/color.

Wine and beer were served, you drank more than usual. You got tipsy, more than the people surrounding you. Carol had already moved to your side of the table, sitting next to you, her thigh brushing yours.

Flirtatious comments subtly touch and bright smiles filled the night. Everyone around you saw how intoxicated you were. Many advised for you to leave the feast, but you refused the advice. Instead, sticking to Carol’s side as she spoke to you.

The blonde saw how intoxicated you were, but she wasn’t taking advantage of you. Carol was adamant about making sure you were alright, she took the drinks away from you to prevent any further accidents. You were leaning on her shoulder, laughing as you set your hand on her thigh.

Neither of you noticed the jealous green eyes which drifted in and out of the room. Natasha’s behavior during the recent feasts was found strange by many of the group. But none of them knew why they assumed she was retiring soon.

The mask was never taken off near you.

“Do you wanna go back to my room?” You whispered into her ear, voice raspy and low.

The act you were putting on, of being an overly intoxicated princess who couldn’t hold her drinks, seemed to be working on everyone around you. Most of the glasses of wine you had taken were water.

“Sure,” Carol agreed, smiling at you.

The blonde helped you up, your arm rested on her shoulders, Carol’s arm wrapped around your waist. You stumbled across the steps, laughing, trying to keep the little composure you had left. Never had you ever let yourself get this intoxicated, but you thought you could use the courage.

Behind you, the soft footsteps of Natasha were barely heard over your intoxicated laughter.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Carol said, leading you into your room and setting you down on your bed.

The door behind her shut with a soft click, locking Natasha out.

The green-eyed knight fidgeted outside your door, waiting for a sound, anything. Natasha assumed she knew why you brought Carol to your room, but she hoped she was wrong.

But Natasha’s assumptions were wrong.

Carol wasn’t going to take advantage of your drunken state. The blonde was gratuitous enough to help you into bed.

The blankets were laid on top of you, most of the candles snuffed out. The only light in the room consisted of the lamp by your bedside and the moonlight leaking through the windows.

“Why don’t you want me?” You asked, reaching out for the blonde by your side.

“I want you,” Carol answered, resting her arms on top of yours to tuck them into the heavy furs.

“But I don’t want to be your drunken mistake,”

A frown crossed your face, but you decided not to argue. Instead, pouting and setting your head onto the pillow. Carol’s hazel eyes looked into yours, she sighed and began to get up when you spoke again.

“Do you think we could get married someday?” You blurted, stopping the blonde in her tracks.

Carol stumbled but turned around to face you. Tilting her head to the side, she crossed the room in a few strides to get to you. Weighing the answer in her mind, she moved the hair out of your face.

“Maybe, ask me that when you aren’t drunk,” Carol answered, a smile on her face.

Accepting the answer, you stared up at her. Your composure was almost gone, you weren’t the ethereal princess who everyone knew about. Now, you were just a woman who wanted another woman.

“I think you’re really hot by the way,” You said, trying to pull her into bed with you using her sleeve.

“Feeling’s mutual,” She pulled the blanket up to your shoulder and smiled at you.

When you didn’t say anything else, she leaned down to kiss the top of your head. After wishing you a goodnight, she left your room. Glancing back at your form one more time, she smiled and opened the door.

A blast of heat, light, and the smell of alcohol hit her. In front of her, a dark figure stood there. Surprised, she closed the door, as she recognized the armor.

“Natasha?” Carol asked, confirming her suspicions when she noticed the black widow mark on the top of her head.

"What are you doing here?”

Natasha stumbled slightly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. The blonde frowned at the helmet, not knowing why the knight was adamant on keeping it on around you. Natasha usually avoided the suitors who came to the castle, for her to spend her time around you with the helmet on was a surprise to her.

“I, I’m supposed to protect y/n.” Natasha stuttered, clenching her jaw as she tried to hide her emotions.

Carol raised a perfect eyebrow at the reasoning. The blonde expected Natasha to correct herself, but she had no such intentions. Sighing, Carol patted her shoulder.

“She’s in the most heavily guarded castle in the kingdom, she’s safe,” Carol assured, rolling her eyes and returning to the party downstairs.

Natasha ignored Carol’s assurances and opened the door to your room, closing it behind her quickly. Unable to see in the dim lighting, she used a matchstick to light the lamp on the side of the door. The room was flooded with candlelight.

You were in the corner of the room, attempting to take off your dress but failing. The corset was near impossible to take off, you had needed Mia’s assistance to simply put it on. To take it off by yourself presented itself as a near-impossible task.

“Greetings,” You muttered when you noticed the green-eyed knight standing in your room.

Before Natasha could ask you if you needed anything, you interrupted her and thrust your back towards her so she could help you. Confused, the redhead took a step back, colliding with the heavy door behind her.

“Can you help me with this?” You pointed to the clasp of the corset you were unable to undo.

Clenching her jaw, Natasha undid the clasp. The corset and the rest of the dress fell off your back and pulled at your feet, revealing the thin garments you wore underneath it. They consisted of a sleeveless single silk slip on which ended just shy of your knees.

Around Natasha, you dropped the act of being an intoxicated princess. Changing back into the woman everyone knew to be an elegant princess. But you had too much alcohol in you to be yourself. Stumbling, you fell onto your bed as you pulled pins out of your hair.

Natasha was about to leave now that she had seen you were alright, but your voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Stay,”

“I’m not-” Natasha began, but you cut her off.

“It’s an order,” You commanded, using your authoritative tone, but softened it. “stay.”

Looking up at her with pleading eyes, the person you were right now was the opposite of the woman Natasha had grown used to. You were in no form elegant or poised, you were tired and drunk. But you still kept up your composure, almost as if clinging onto a pedestal.

“Looks like I don’t have a choice then,” Natasha turned around, sitting down on the leather ottoman on the side of the bed. She ran her fingers through the soft fur of the blankets, keeping her distance from you.

Laying down on the bed, you face the knight at your bedside. Sighing, you reached out for her arm and pulled her so she was seated next to you.

Natasha swallowed, licking her lips nervously under the helmet. Her gaze slipped to your face, you had taken off most of the makeup you had been wearing for the feast. But you looked ethereal, the moonlight reflecting in your eyes and softening your features. The candlelight illuminated the other side of your face, creating a soft gradient across your features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked, voice soft and unsure as you drew Natasha out of her trance.

“Of course,” Natasha nodded, her voice muffled slightly by the mask on her face. She was adamant as to not take it off around you. Her fear of your judgment overriding her hatred of the helmet.

“I don’t want Carol,”

Your secret surprised Natasha, her eyes widened drastically. The knight leaned back on the ottoman, almost as if slapped. Opening and closing her mouth, she decided to ask why you are deciding to marry her.

“Then why-,”

“Because she’s the best option there is,” You cut her off, seeming more sober as the minutes passed.

Natasha was unable to respond, your response was something she had never even dreamed of. She assumed you always got what you wanted. It was the persona you always held up, a beautiful princess who knew what she wanted and how to get it. This contradicted your persona entirely.

“There are people that are worse than her,” You rambled into the silence, “She’s attractive, smart, strong and powerful,”

The green eyes knight pursed her lips under the mask. Reality began to set in, Natasha didn’t have nearly as much power or influence as Carol did. If you were to be with her, your father would not spare you. As it is, Natasha had seen the aggressive letters he kept sending you, you weren’t as careful to hide them.

Exhausted from the lack of response, you faced her with a furious glare.

“Say something,” You demanded, watching Natasha turn to face you, catching another glimpse of emerald eyes. They were glinting in the moonlight, they showed with a sadness you hadn’t seen in them before.

“What would you like me to say?” Natasha asked, her thinly veiled jealousy beginning to show. Flinching at her hard tone, you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Anything,” You said exasperatedly, gesturing to her and chuckling groggily. “You’re supposed to be my knight in shining armor so to say,”

Natasha bit back a laugh, considering it rude to laugh at the princess she was supposed to protect. Unable to hold back a chuckle, she began to pull the blanket up to your shoulders for you to sleep.

“You’re drunk,” She stated, biting back another laugh at your state.

“Noticed that,” You muttered, yawning and turning to bury your face into the pillows.

Natasha observed you, your relaxed state as well as the thick furs laying above you. Seeing there was no reason for her to stay, she began to leave. Her soft footsteps caught your attention, you turned to face her.

“I thought I told you to stay,” You muttered sleepily, eyes half-closed as you looked at her. The green-eyed knight turned around, tilting her head to the side.

“And do what?” Natasha asked, gesturing around her. You shrugged, sighing, and burrowing yourself into the pillows around you.

“Protect me,” You muttered into your pillow, finally succumbing to the lullaby of sleep.

Natasha began to protest, but you were fast asleep. Sighing, she settled on the ottoman near your bed, watching you sleep as thoughts raced through her mind.

———————

Light from the morning sun flooded the room, reflecting off of the mirrors in your room, effectively waking you up. Groaning, you shoved the furs off of you and looked around. A headache presented itself, causing dizziness.

Almost falling back down on the bed, you glanced around the room for a glass of water. It seemed the few drinks you drank had affected you more than you had expected. Your door opened to reveal a certain green-eyed knight carrying a tray with a loaf of bread and a cup of tea.

Using her foot to nudge the ottoman next to your table, she set it down on top of it and handed you the cup of tea. You swirled the cup of tea, observing the sediment in the bottom. The smell was unfamiliar to you.

“What’s in it?” You asked, unable to identify what kind of tea it was.

“Chamomile,” Natasha answered. You winced, chamomile was one of your least favorite flavors of tea.

“It’s supposed to help.”

Taking a sip of the tea, you found it wasn’t as bad as you expected. Mint was mixed into it to give it a nicer flavor to it. It was the only reason you were able to drink it. The tea was also the perfect temperature.

Sipping the tea, you began to recall the events of yesterday. Carol had come to your room, but she had left. You’d spoken to Natasha about something, you weren’t sure what you had said. All you could remember was it was something you didn’t want to let anyone else know.

Your face paled, you didn’t know what you had told her.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, noticing your face turn pale as you stared at the wall in front of you. Clearing your throat, you turned to face her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“What, what did I say yesterday?” You stammered, fear seeping into you as your chest tightened.

“Nothing important,” Natasha waved it off, lying through her teeth.

A lifetime in court with lying nobles had taught you how to smell a lie from a mile off. The signs were clear now as ever.

“No, tell me, now,” You demanded, tone imposing and commanding.

“Still ordering me around, are we?” The knight joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. What you had told her last night could potentially ruin you, she could understand your panic.

“No, I didn’t,” You stuttered, struggling to correct the situation.

Ordering people was what your father did, you did not want to be your father. Not now, not ever. Groaning, you rubbed your temples, unable to say anything without making the situation worse than it already was.

“Fine,” Natasha muttered, collecting her thoughts as you turned to face her.

“You, you said you didn’t want to marry Carol,” She stuttered, trying to word it in the best way. The sentence seemed not to offend you or surprise you. But you were intrigued by what else you had spoken in your intoxicated state.

“Did I say why?”

“Because she was the best option,” Natasha answered without hesitation. Perhaps too quickly, but you didn’t seem to notice.

Clenching your jaw, you leaned back to face the ceiling. Thoughts ran through your head faster than you could process. What you had told Natasha wasn’t false, but it wasn’t something you should have told her. Your words could ruin you, but the green-eyed knight proved herself trustworthy.

“I wasn’t lying for sure,” You chuckled, facing the rock ceiling above you.

You were aware of the emerald eyes fixed on you, but you chose to ignore it.

“I thought it was just a drunken mistake,” Natasha murmured, letting her thoughts slip into her words. Her eyes were fixed on you, watching every action. Your lips twitched up into a smile, a genuine smile.

“No, I don’t lie when I’m drunk apparently,” You smiled, looking at her.

Seconds passed, your smile faded as you turned your attention back to the cup of tea in your hands. The knight had been right, chamomile was perfect for your state. It had helped with your headache and the thirst.

But you felt suffocated. Everything was closing in on you. Your father’s demands for you to wed, Carol’s proposal, the attention. You could barely breathe.

“We can go get breakfast,” Natasha suggested, noticing how you were still sitting on your bed despite finishing the tea.

You groaned at the implications. Breakfast was around the group you were growing overly familiar to. Their company you could handle, but Carol was another matter. The blonde would want to discuss the proposal and other matters you didn’t want to deal with.

“Or we could go away from this for a little bit,” Natasha offered, seeing how you wanted to get out of the castle.

You snorted in laughter at the suggestion and turned to face her.

“With you looking like you just came out of Lancelot,” You gestured to her outfit sarcastically, “I’m fine thank you,”

Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics. She knew she needed to take off the helmet to get you out of here. Her fear of judgment was slowly dwindling when she saw how you were looking around the room for a way to get out undetected.

A loud sigh from the knight’s direction caused you to turn towards her. Two of her fingers were caught underneath the bottom of the helmet, indicating she was about to take it off. Her hand went in a sweeping motion up her face.

The motion slowly revealing milky white skin, full lips, and gorgeous emerald eyes you had grown used to being watched by. Rust hair fell from the helmet, framing her face and falling onto her shoulders.

Sunlight reflected off the mirrors and the gold and onto her face, giving it a golden lighting. The light illuminated her features, lighting up her emerald eyes. Her eyes fixated on you, gauging your reaction. Her fear of your judgment taking over as she stared at your face.

You licked your lips, admiring her features. Everything from her rust hair, to her flawless skin and emerald eyes, entranced you.

Looking at her, she was someone you wanted to run away with. Never had you ever thought about running away from this life. It was the only thing you knew, the politics, the complications, the attention, you’d made your home in it.

Something stirred inside you, you never thought you could feel this way. You never thought you could see someone who looks as tired, as lost as you do. Natasha wanted to get away, you could see it from her expression. It was the same expression you wore daily.

Emerald eyes flickered up to yours, finally looking you in the eyes. You swallowed, weighing your words inside your head.

“So,” You began, your voice higher than usual. Emotions were beginning to flicker across your face, you inhaled sharply to stop showing your emotions, adamant on keeping your composure.

Clearing your throat, you looked up at the redhead for guidance. You hardly ever looked up to anyone to tell you what to do. But you were out of your field, Natasha knew what she was doing better than you did. You guessed she had done this before.

“I have some commoner clothing you can change into,” Natasha said, lips twitching up into a smirk. The redhead was enjoying this exchange of power from you to her. You coughed and slid off of the bed.

“Right,”

———————

Natasha’s commoner clothing consisted of a simple tunic and loose pants. You picked endlessly at the discolored tunic, confused by the discolored garment they wore. The redhead had made sure you weren’t wearing any jewelry as not to attract attention.

Your clothes made little to no sense. Why must you wear such a drab garment just to get out of the castle? Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing a similar outfit, her hair tied behind her head elegantly.

“What sort of abomination am I wearing?” You demanded, picking at the threads coming out of the tunic.

The green-eyed knight rolled her eyes and sighed.

“It’s a tunic and pants,” Natasha explained, gesturing to your outfit while heading towards the door.

“Exactly, abomination,” You muttered, following her out the door of your room and through a hallway which you assumed led out of the castle.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Natasha led you out of the castle.

The clothes you wore, the lack of makeup and jewelry, none of it was something you were used to. Sneaking out wasn’t something you had ever done before. It terrified you, but you weren’t willing to show Natasha that.

——————

Inside the castle, you were dignified and respected. Out here, where no one knew who you were, it was the opposite. They treated you as just another commoner. It shocked you.

What shocked you most was the filthy streets, the wonder of the street entertainers, the talent of the musicians, the smell of the food sold by the street vendors. Natasha had bought you some meat and bread from a nearby street vendor, it was spiced better than the meat in the castle. The bread was fresher and better tasting than anything you’d eaten before.

But the conditions they lived in were near disgusting. Waste and garbage lined the streets, puddles of water, and other liquids filled the potholes. It was disgusting.

Roaming around the streets, you watched everything in wonder. Never did you have the opportunity to roam the streets this way.

Natasha walked by your side, watching anyone who dared to give you a second glance. Even without the makeup, the gowns, and the jewelry, you were easily the most beautiful person Natasha had ever seen. It didn’t surprise her the few posters lining the walls with drawings of you.

The drawings emphasized the jewelry and the wealth surrounding you. It did little to enhance your features or show the sharpness of your eyes. The drawing made it impossible to relate you to the princess they had heard so much about.

When you went to look at a near street vendor selling handmade art and embroidery, Natasha noticed a few men who had been there at the last street vendor. They seemed not to be doing anything. Surrounded by the crowds of people, they stuck out by sitting still.

Natasha knew something was wrong when they began to walk towards you.

Eyes widening, she took your elbow and dragged you into a nearby valley despite your protests. The alley smelled of human waste as well as stale food. Your nose wrinkled, you opened your mouth to insult Natasha’s actions, but she interrupted you.

“There are people following us,” Natasha stated, eyes boring into yours as she pushed you further into the alley, “Unless you want to show them who you are, stay quiet.”

You raised an eyebrow at her actions. Even though you weren’t in control of what happened around you, you still had your dignity. Natasha could see her actions had been to command, it wasn’t her place to order you. The redhead doubted if anyone could tell you what to do.

“Princess,” Natasha smirked, using your title to push you against the wall.

You licked your lips nervously, watching the action tantalize Natasha as she glanced behind you to where she had seen the men. The redhead’s hands rested on your shoulders, ensuring you didn’t attempt to escape.

“Are they still there?” You asked, turning your head to see.

“Yes,” Natasha answered, using her thumb to guide your face back to look at her. Frowning at the action, you pursed your lips.

“How are you-”

Natasha cut you off by pressing her lips to yours, pushing you further into the wall. The stones on the brick wall hurt your back, but you barely noticed. Her lips moved over yours, her bottom lip driving into your mouth as your breaths mingled.

Eyes fluttered shut against each other as she moved to tilt her face against yours, lips moving in sync. Hands found their way to your neck, twining themselves into your hair, pulling you closer. Your hands rested on her hips, unsure to pull her closer or push her away.

It felt too euphoric to end, but it wasn’t right to do this. Your responsibilities the furthest thing in your mind as you kissed the green-eyed knight.

Natasha pulled away first, breathless as she turned around to see the men following you. Stunned, your eyes began to flutter open to look into emerald eyes. The situation finally striking you, your eyes widened as you tried to push her away.

“What on Earth was that?” You demanded, voice hushed.

You lifted your chin stubbornly, trying to hold onto some golden pedestal. The redhead smirked, licking her lips and looking around.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Natasha answered, a smirk on her face.

The smirk quickly dissipated when she noticed the men were closing in on her. They must have noticed the drawing and correlated you to it

Clenching your jaw as a blush began to creep up your face, you began to demand to go back to the castle. The stone walls guaranteed you security, here, you were out in the open.

“They are still around,” Natasha hissed, trying to get you to stop talking.

Glaring at her, you pushed her away, intending to go back to the castle. But before you could move, you saw Natasha get pulled away by one of the men following you.

A flash of red hair, she was on top of the man, hitting him on the head aggressively and taking him out. The motion attracted the attention of a few other men in the pungent alley. Natasha knew she couldn’t take all of them, she tried to drag you away from the alley.

But more men had recognized you blocking your path. They all seemed to know they could get rich just by kidnapping you.

Natasha stood in front of you, pulling you to stand behind her. You clenched your jaw, cowering behind her, trusting the green-eyed knight to protect you. Fear began to take over you, escape from this seemed a long lost prospect.

One of the men charged at you, Natasha pushed you aside and went to the other side, delivering a kick to his head. The other men began to charge towards her. You tumbled in the corner, scared, unsure of what was happening around you.

Almost five men were attacking Natasha, fear began to creep through you. If she died, you would be alone again. Never would you have the chance to experience something you never had.

Deciding to reveal your identity, you rushed out into the street and commanded one of the knights to help. They ignored you at first, but when you pushed towards them the little jewelry you’d worn around your neck, they finally began to obey.

A few of them rushed into it, pulling them apart. Many of them tried to run away, but few succeeded. They were pinned to the ground while knights shouted at them to stay down. You paid little heed

Blood covered the floor, your breath hitched as you ran towards the source. On the ground, there was a sight you hoped you wouldn’t see. A knife stuck out of Natasha’s side, dark, red blood pooled around it. Natasha was cradling the knife, demanding weakly that it not be pulled out.

You took charge of the situation, pushing their commander aside to help her. Ordering some of the knights to create a makeshift gurney, you instructed the commander to put Natasha on the gurney after wrapping the wound.

Panic began to seep through you. Blood was everywhere, on the ground in the alley, on the makeshift gurney. But all if it was on your hands. Every drop of blood Natasha lost was on your hands. If you hadn’t been adamant to escape, this wouldn’t be happening.

But now was not the time to pity yourself and your decisions, no matter how foolish they are in hindsight.

One of the street vendors knew how to deal with wounds, they applied pressure and bandaged it not to bleed out. No one around you dared question your orders or your authority. The tone of voice you used was only one they had heard from nobles or the Avengers themselves. It was feared and obeyed.

Angrily, you commanded the knights to speed up to get Natasha back to the castle. The redhead was twisting and turning in the gurney, trying to stop the bleeding. The cloth on the gurney was soaked in blood, it began to drip on the floor you passed, leaving a trail.

Knights pushed people aside to get to the doctors which occupied the left-wing of the castle. You followed them, instructing messengers to inform the Avengers of the situation and to get the doctors ready. Your voice shook despite the authority it exuberated.

After preparing everything, you went to the side of the gurney to speak with Natasha. But the redhead was unconscious, blood still leaking out of the wound. You might never get your chance.

Doctors pushed you out of the room, stating they needed to operate immediately. Despite your protests, your commands to be let in. They refused to let you stay. You finally let them push you out of the room.

There were a few leather couches for people to wait. It should have been comfortable, but it felt like needles.

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, boots clicking sounded on the stone ground as you paced. No sounds were coming through the room, the blame of all of this was falling on you. You were sure everyone had been notified of this incident and were coming down immediately.

The first to see you was Carol, she ran into the room, furious. Her clothes the same she wore in court.

“Y/n, what the hell were you thinking?” Carol demanded, voice deep and furious.

You whirled around angrily, no one could speak to you in that tone. It made you feel small, controlled. The same way your father spoke to you. Never did you want to feel the same way.

“Don’t forget who you’re speaking to,” You shouted, expression, tone authoritative and angry.

The clothes you wore did little to compliment the famous princess. But you were still in control, not Carol, not your father, you.

The blonde flinched visibly, her features softening.

Biting your lip, you sighed and leaned against the wall. The way you spoke, everything about the way you were acting, it reminded you of your father. The mere idea of becoming like him was despised.

“My apologies,” You licked your lips and sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of the room. “I’m just worried,”

Carol sighed, you looked smaller, worried. You were the shell of the person she had grown to known. Natasha getting hurt, the idea of her not being there for you was ruining you. The blonde could never hope to get you to care for her this way.

But it wasn’t the time to talk to you about it.

“So am I,” Carol sat down next to you.

Sitting next to you, she kept enough distance as not to touch you. Her fear of angering you again prevented her from speaking. When she found out about Natasha leaving the castle, panic had set in. The same panic was consuming her now. But Carol knew Natasha would be alright, she had to be. The redhead couldn’t leave you alone like this.

Hours passed in silence, many members of the Avengers flitted in and out of the room. Their gazes held to blame and pity for you. The mixture infuriating, but there was nothing you could do. The blame was on you. A few gazes stayed for some time, but they left eventually. Carol was the only one staying with you while you waited for Natasha.

Carol made up her mind to convince you to rest for a few hours when she noticed the sun begin to go down. But before she could speak, Dr. Cho exited the room with a relieved smile on her face. She reassured both of you that Natasha would be okay. Her loss of blood had led to her unconsciousness, but she would wake in a matter of hours.

Until then, Cho advised both of you to rest.

You smiled and watched as Carol let her off of duty, her dazzling smile and calm composure assuring them everything was alright. The rest of the doctors, clearly exhausted from the operation, also left.

Relief flooded you, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against the cold stone wall. Your eyes began to relax as you breathe deeper. Carol watched you relax, she could see the exhaustion in your features.

But she decided it was time she call this off and free you.

“You care for her,” Carol began, leaning against the wall. “don’t you?”

“I-,” You clenched your jaw to prevent snapping at her and lifted your head to face her.

“Yes I do,” You confessed quietly.

The blonde’s face morphed into a sad smile. You couldn’t understand why she was smiling. Afraid of saying something you shouldn’t have, you began diplomacy. Stating vague answers about how you care for each and every life, not just Natasha’s.

You had little trouble lying to her, lying had become like breathing for you.

But you could see it wasn’t working.

“Y/n, it’s okay,” Carol chuckled sadly, sighing and sitting down beside you again. Her thigh brushed yours, but you moved away.

“That is supposed to have some meaning?” You asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

Carol turned to face you, examining your features. Your features were hard, not showing any emotion. It was something you’d been taught as a child, you didn’t know better. The blonde chuckled sadly, you were someone she had wanted, badly, but she couldn’t keep you.

“It means you can stop pretending you want me,”

“I-I, I don’t,” You stuttered, eyes widening as you licked your lips. “I don’t understand what you are saying,”

Jaw clenching and unclenching, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingers. The pressure was hanging over your head constantly affected you, but you were adamant not to show it.

“I’m saying you care more for her than I could ever hope you would care for me,” Carol said, her hazel eyes soft.

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t protest. The blonde wasn’t lying. You couldn’t see yourself being happy with Carol. Everything about her was perfect, too perfect. There would be more pressure on you to be perfect.

It wouldn’t work.

“I’ll speak with your father and call this off.” Carol got up, brushing the dust off of her pants.

“You can stay here with Natasha as long as you wish, just don’t go outside without more protection again,” Carol warned, giving you a small, sad smile.

“Is that an order?” You asked, voice soft and nervous.

“I don’t think anyone gives you orders,” Carol smiled and shook her head before walking away, leaving you alone.

“I think you might be right,” You muttered, opening the heavy door into the operation room and closing it with a dull thud.

The redhead was paler than ever, her limbs at her sides as her unopened eyes facing the ceiling. She looked peaceful, eerily peaceful. Unused to seeing her without the mask, you couldn’t help but observe her features.

Natasha was easily one of the most gorgeous women you had ever seen. Her eyes were perfectly shaped, her lips looked soft, she was perfect. Being with her wouldn’t add pressure, it would relieve it. You wouldn’t need to worry about having to be perfect, you could just live in the shadows. It seemed more tempting than staying for the crown.

———————

Moonlight streamed through the small window in the side, hitting your eyes. But the light wasn’t what caused you to wake up, it was the voice speaking to you combined with the soft touch on your hands. Opening your eyes, you saw Natasha sitting up in bed, her hand protectively cradling her wound.

“Your highness, are you okay?” Natasha asked you, voice raspy as she reached towards your hand.

“You should sleep.”

Her words barely made their way past your ears. You smiled, eyes lighting up when you saw your knight alive, and healthy. Getting up from your seat, you leaned in towards the redhead quickly, giving her little to no time to react.

Your hands came up behind her neck, pulling her towards your lips. Her lips crashed into yours, they were chapped but soft. Smiling into the kiss, you reached up to twine your fingers into her hair. Natasha rested one hand on your hip, fingers playing with the end of your tunic.

It felt like euphoria like you were finally free. There was no pressure to do anything, no one’s metal hand above your head to do the right thing. There was only what you wanted, who you wanted.

Natasha couldn’t pull away, it was the calmest she had ever felt. Your lips on hers were intoxicating, you were like a drug she couldn’t get enough of.

But she couldn’t have you.

Reality came back to her, she pulled away, breathless, panting, trying to keep away from you. You tilted your head to the side curiously, eyes scanning her features. Her breath hit your face as she tried to move away from you.

“I, I can’t,” Natasha stuttered, confused by the feeling of your fingers running against her scalp.

You laughed, keeping yourself close to her. Moving to sit next to her on the bed, you ran your fingers through her hair before pulling away completely. Your laughter filled the room, Natasha found herself smiling at the sound.

“Why are you laughing?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her tone.

Shaking your head, you faced her, a light smile on your face. You rested your hand on her thigh, watching her fluster.

“I spoke to Carol,” You began, tapping her thigh to bring her attention back to your face. “she left to speak with my father to call the proposal off.”

“You what?” Natasha blurted, eyes wide as she scanned your features for any sign of lying. “for me?”

You chuckled and nodded, watching her soft smile. But the more you ran this situation in your head, the worse it seemed. The knight assigned to protect you was the one falling for you rather than the suitor you were here to wed. Your father had been adamant about this wedding, more than any other suitor.

“I’m not entirely sure on how it’s going to go but-” You began, thinking of your father and his reaction.

Natasha leaned forwards and pressed her lips to yours, erasing any thoughts from your mind. Her lips moved in sync over yours, breaths mingling, hands holding each other closer. It was like a fantasy, a fantasy neither of you had ever dared to indulge in, too afraid of the fear of it becoming a dream. But your fantasy was a reality, what more could you

ask for?

———————

Your life was supposed to be perfect, you had the only woman you wanted to marry, the life you were used to, people you cared about you. There was nothing more you could have wanted. But all of it was being denied to you from your father.

A letter had arrived, stating the entire idea of marrying the knight assigned to protect you was ridiculous. Your father denied the notion, demanding you get married to your suitor or he would disown you. Disowning was almost like banishing you from the only life you knew.

“How could he do this?” You demanded, pacing your room.

Heels clicked on the stone-cold floor as you walked from end to end. Mia sat on your bed, trying to console you. Natasha had not yet heard about the letter in your hands.

“He has never forced me to do something like this!” You shouted, angrily throwing the letter on the other side of the room and sitting on the bed. Taking your head into your hands, you groaned loudly.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Mia tried to console you. But even her meager consolations weren’t helping, you didn’t know what would.

“You want to marry her more than I do,” You scoffed, beginning to come up with more insults for your situation when a knock at the door stopped you.

Angrily shouting for the person to come in, you lifted your head to look. Carol stood in the doorway, looking like she had just come out of court. She wore an elegant coat over a suit, the entire entourage was white and gold. Her hair styled elegantly.

“I’m assuming you heard about your father.” Carol began, she had gotten a version of the letter before. Your father tended to do these things, he sent an aggressively worded letter to you, a diplomatically worded letter to the nobles of the castle.

“Oh she did,” Mia muttered, cowering slightly when she caught your cold glare.

Turning to face the blonde, you crossed your arms expectantly.

“I have a way out,” Carol stated, your eyes widened slightly.

“How so?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“I know someone who could take your place as a princess,” Carol said, licking her lips nervously at the implications. “, you could still marry Natasha,”

“Who?” You asked Carol waved off your concerns.

“A friend,” The blonde bit her lip nervously. The catch to this way out would cost you everything you held dear.

“You would give up your life as a princess for her,” Carol stated, you opened your mouth to protest. “and in return, you get to be with Natasha,”

You stopped. This would change everything. The life you were used to consisted of being a princess, it consisted of holding power and being in control. If you did this, you would no longer be in control, you would live in the shadows as just another noble in Carol’s court.

Were you willing to give up everything you knew for Natasha?

Seeing your hesitation, Carol began to speak to end the silence.

“You have some time to-” She began, but you were quick to cut her off.

“I agree,” You stated, voice firm but Mia caught the slight waver in your voice.

Carol’s eyes widened, she didn’t think you were going to give up everything for the redhead. Your determination for the opportunity to love her was something she could never hope to gain.

“You’re sure?” Mia asked, her voice a low whisper as she leaned towards you.

You bit your lip and nodded. You’d never been more unsure of anything in your life. If Natasha wasn’t right for you, you’d still give everything up. But the chance to be with her, the chance to live in the shadows, without your father’s iron hand above your head, it was too much to let go.

“I’m sure,”

———————

Telling Natasha about this plan was more disastrous than anyone had hoped. Carol had been the first to tell Natasha, the redhead had objected strongly and rushed up to your room in an absolute panic. In the middle of your packing, Natasha had burst in and demanded to know the reason behind your choices. You were quick to explain to her why the green-eyed knight understood it better than you had hoped.

After all, it was the reason she had gone to your kingdom in the first place, to getaway.

Natasha had helped you move into the suite near hers. From then, you stayed near her.

The wedding was rather extravagant, a woman named Valkyrie whom you had seen earlier had agreed to take your place. It had been quick, as to avoid your father’s knowledge about the switch. But it was extravagantly decorated with the most exquisite feast you’d had.

Giving up your life had proved harder than you had originally thought. It had become the norm for all the attention in the room to be on you, to be in control. The change was harder than you had expected. The redhead by your side was the constant reminder of why you chose to change your life, why you chose her over everything you’d ever known.

To say your father had overreacted to the switch would be an understatement. The king had planned to send an army to the Avenger’s kingdom when he realized there was nothing he could do. You were in control of your life now, not him.

Your story was told throughout the land. It won you the respect of the crowd around you as well as anyone who had ever heard the story.

For years to come, many people went through the kingdom and heard the story of the princess who fooled everyone to get who she wanted. Many wondered why she gave up everything she knew for a knight. But when they passed through the courts and caught sight of you beside Natasha, they understood why you gave up the crown.

A/N: I’ve spent hours on this so any and all feedback would be appreciated!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @thelastavenger-3000 , @a-stressedstudent , @cybeleceto , @aaron-despair let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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charlie-boio · 4 years

Text

Fire - Thomas fic

Pairing: Thomas x Reader

Summary: Your dorm building is on fire, and Thomas has no idea where you are.

Word Count: 3636

A/N: This was gonna be shorter, but whatever that’s just my theme at this point. This is a quick Tommy fic before I dive DEEP into Mitch. This actually came to me in a dream soo hope y’all love it as much as I do. Pretty proud of this one for sure!

WARNINGS: Fires, mentions of death (no actual death), angst

Thomas’s eyes were starting to blur together. His eyes scanned over the same sentence again, trying to make the words stick in his head. Finals week was already kicking his ass, just like the last two weeks of classes had been doing. Last week, he had a test, two projects due, and an essay due all on the same day. What are the fucking odds of that?

Worst of all, he barely had any time to see you. You couldn’t even study together since Thomas preferred to study in his room while you had to study at the library. A few times you two had managed to grab lunch together, but you both had to eat quickly before rushing off to continue studying or finishing up an assignment. Not to mention the sheer exhaustion made you both too tired to keep up an engaging conversation.

You couldn’t even spare a text often, besides good morning/goodnight along with the “I miss you” texts. However, today, you had excitedly called him, saying you thought you would be finishing your work early, and you excitedly invited him over so you could spend the night together.

“Or I could come over there if you’re still studying. Like I really don’t even mind if it’s just my head in your lap and I’m watching a movie on my phone by myself while you work because I just miss you so so much and these past two weeks and we haven’t gotten to talk and I’d really like to-“

“Baby, you can definitely come over tonight.”

“Really? YES! Oh my God I’m so excited to see you! Should I bring my computer for the movi-oh wait should I bring clothes so I can stay the night or is Newt not going to see his-“

“I can kick Newt out. You’re staying the night, okay? Here, I’ll work through my break so I can have the night off too. I’m sure my body could use the break anyways.”

“Tommy, I don’t want you to overwork yourself for me I don’t mind-“

“I won’t, I promise,” Which was a lie, but he really thought he could get through his work enough for you to come over. Even if he couldn’t, he’ll just tack it onto tomorrow. It would be worth it to see you.

“…okay. Please don’t kill yourself over this Tommy. I promise I don’t mind I’ve just been aching to see you-oh FUCK! Forget to meet up with my professor oh FUCK I have to go bye baby I love you!”

Click.

Thomas’s fingers froze on his keyboard. He turned to his phone that had you on speaker, but all he saw were the words “Call ended.”

You two hadn’t said those three words to each other yet.

Of course, Thomas loved you. More than anything. Loving you was one of the only sure things he had in his life right now but wasn’t sure how he was supposed to tell you. He’s never loved anyone as strongly as he loves you, and your relationship was still fairly new, only four months in, but he was certain more than anything that you and him would be together for the rest of your lives.

Thomas broke into a grin and choked out a laugh. You loved him too.

Unfortunately, his insecurities started to kick in, saying how you didn’t mean to say it, you’d been in a hurry, and that you didn’t actually love him. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands for a few moments, taking slow and deep breaths.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to himself. “Just get this done, then you can see her…and tell her that you love her too.”

Thomas brought his hands back to the keyboard and resumed typing, even more determined to finish now that there was a reward dangling over his head.

“You’ve got to be joking?” Gally managed to wheeze out.

“Dead serious!” Newt gasped between breaths.

The pair continued laughing, loudly, much to Thomas’s annoyance. He’d been working steadfast for the past few hours since your guys’ phone call, making excellent progress along the way.

Unfortunately, he’d hit a rut, and just when he had needed peace and quiet, his roommate Newt came back with Gally after they’d had dinner together. Newt had mentioned when they had entered the room that Thomas was still studying, to which Gally replied that he should study in the library like a normal person.

Thomas had decided then he did not like Gally.

What made it even worse was as their conversation continued, so did the volume and Thomas was this fucking close to snapping at the both of them since there’s a perfectly good common room down the fucking hall.

Just as Thomas was about to turn his chair and give them a piece of his mind, the door burst open and a scared Minho came into the room. He frantically looked around, then turned to Thomas. “She’s not here?”

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, “Y/n? No, she was gonna text me when she was coming over, which should probably be soon now that I-“ Thomas clamped his mouth shut when he took in Minho’s facial expression: a mixture of fear and guilt. “What’s wrong?”

“Her dorm building is on fire,” Minho said, wincing.

For second, Thomas froze. On another night, on any fucking other night this week he would’ve been reassured that she was at the library studying her ass off. But today…

Minho, Newt, and Gally all were looking at Thomas with apprehension.

Thomas jumped from his chair, knocking it over. He shoved Minho aside, who called after him, “I didn’t see her outside…” and ran down the hall, not registering Minho’s statement. He sent multiple texts, one right after the other.

To Princess: Hey, I just wanted to check that you were still in the library

To Princess: I know your busy, but just a quick text letting me know you’re okay idk if you’ve heard, but your buildings on fire I need to make sure okay

To Princess: Please baby I’m getting scared

To Princess: Y/n please tell me you’re okay

Thomas pushed open the outside door, and nearly fell over from the sight. Across the courtyard he could clearly see your building, which was in the process of being burned. The top floor was almost completely obliterated, and it was about halfway through burning the third floor, which happened to be the one you lived in. He could see the firefighters doing their best to extinguish it, but they weren’t making much headway.

His feet were moving before he realized it, running towards the crowd of people that had gathered and was scanning for your face, unable to find you. He was calling you now, which went straight to voicemail. He sent texts despite knowing that you weren’t seeing them since at the very least your phone was off.

To Princess: Y/n I need you to answer my calls

To Princess: Please

To Princess: I love you

To Princess: I didn’t get to tell you that yet

To Princess: Baby please don’t leave me

To Princess: I love you

Thomas spotted Brenda, your roommate. He felt a minor pinch of relief flood his system; Brenda studied in her room all of the time too. If she’s here then you got out okay too.

He pushed his way through the crowd until he came up to Brenda, who was talking to the RA of her floor. He grabbed her arm, earning him a seething glare until she realized it was Thomas.

“Hey Th-“

“Where’s Y/n? I didn’t see her in the crowd but since you’re here then that means you two got out ok right?” He flashed her a pained smile that quickly faded once he realized that instead of her directing him to where you were, her eyes widened.

“She’s-She’s not with you?” Brenda asked, her voice cracking.

Thomas’s stomach dropped; he started to feel himself shake. This can’t be happening! He thought.

“N-No, she was going to text me once she was done, but she wasn’t in your guys’ room?”

“I was in the basement common room, I-I don’t know if she was there or not…” Brenda said, tears forming in her eyes.

It was only when Thomas saw Brenda’s tears that he realized he was crying, tears streaming quickly down his face.

“…So no one knows where she is…” The RA said slowly. A moment of silence passed by. A moment that said everything they needed to know.

Thomas turned and looked at the burning building, his breath catching in his throat while he felt the tears start to burn.

“No…” he whispered.

Another moment passed without the three of them saying anything until Brenda pointed in the far direction. “There she is!” she exclaimed, a smile on her face.

Thomas whipped around, and sure enough, there you were. You were staring up at the building in shock, with Minho and Newt standing by you, asking if you were okay.

Thomas ran, all kinds of different emotions flooding his system as he reached you and pulled you into a tight hug. He let out a shaky breath as he felt your arms snake around him, hugging him just as tightly as he was.

You two stayed there like, holding each other close, until finally his emotions settled for a brief moment. Thomas felt…angry. Unbelievably angry.

He grabbed your arms and forced you back, glaring down at you. You’re smile fell quickly from your face, furrowing into a worried look.

“Thomas-“

“Where the fuck were you?” Thomas asked, tone harsh.

“I-I was at the library. Tommy you know I study there-“

“Then why didn’t you answer your phone?” Thomas was raising his voice, and each time he did you grew smaller. “I tried calling and left dozens of texts-“

“It died! I didn’t realize until I had finished studying-“

“And you didn’t bring your charger? Like you always do?” His grip on your arms was stronger.

“Baby, I had forgotten it, I’m sorry! I meant to grab it then text you that I was on my way over-“

“Y/n,” you clamped your mouth shut at that. Thomas rarely called you by your name. “You’re not fucking getting it I thought you were dead! I thought you were in that fire burning alive!” He was practically screaming at you, his gaze unkind.

“Tommy…” you whispered.

“We’re leaving. Now!” He snarled at you, tugging you forward with one arm.

“Thomas,” Newt had started, but Thomas wasn’t listening. He marched forward with you trailing quietly behind him.

His mind was racing at a thousand thoughts a second. Deep down, he knows he shouldn’t have snapped at you; it wasn’t your fault, but right now he was just angry at everything. Every so often he’d glance back at you, making sure you were still there and that he wasn’t dreaming.

For you, the walk back to Thomas’s dorm was agonizingly slow. You glanced down at the piece of paper that you had been writing for the past hour and half.

You were half way to the library when you realized the slip up you’d made. At first, you had completely panicked, but after having several pep talks with yourself in the mirror, you somehow convinced yourself that this was a blessing in disguise. You could sit down with Thomas, tell him how you feel, then you two could have awesome sex afterwards (which you haven’t had for awhile since you barely saw each other). After finishing your work you were going to head over, but then decided to write out what you had to say. Unfortunately, you’d been staring at the piece of paper for about half an hour unable to fully express how you felt. Then, everything you did write wasn’t good enough for your Thomas. You couldn’t describe how he made you feel, and how much you loved him.

By the time you had fully written something down, you realized how late it was already on the library clock. Reaching down to grab your phone to text Thomas, you realized that it had died while you were sitting there, which you were sure that it was at 30% but now it wouldn’t turn on. Then, well the rest is history.

You hadn’t meant to. You just wanted to make sure that when you told Thomas that it was perfect and everything he deserved.

Of course, now you realize that deserved someone better than you. Someone prettier and smarter. Someone who doesn’t spend so much time studying, and doesn’t forget simple things like a phone charger. You fought back the tears; you didn’t want to guilt Thomas, you didn’t want to make things worse, and honestly, you didn’t want to be yelled at anymore.

Thomas didn’t speak to the entire way back. He merely lead you to his room, throwing his phone charger at you. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and left. You blinked, confused. But when you figured it out, a fresh wave of pain shot through your heart. He wasn’t coming back. He must’ve kicked Newt out for the night for his original plan, so you two would have some time to yourself…

You rushed over, plugging in your phone and turning it on. You read of all his messages, and you couldn’t stop staring at the last text.

I love you

You blew it. He did love you, then you had to blow it.

The dam holding everything back burst open, and you let all of your emotions run free. You sobbed, loudly, trying to let everything out. Hugging your knees to your chest, you fell to the side on Thomas’s bed, muffling your sobs into the sheets. Time was lost to you. Hours flew by, or maybe it was only a matter of minutes.

After awhile you sat up, feeling empty and numb. Your throat was raw, your eyes and cheeks burned, and somehow you were cold despite the layers you were wearing. You weren’t sure if sleeping in Thomas’ bee was okay, but once you laid down you decided you didn’t care. After weeks of studying and the stress of today, you were exhausted. Your eyes closed for only a few moments before swiftly falling asleep.

“You’re being a dick,” Newt said, his arms crossed.

Sitting in the common room of Minho’s dorm, Thomas sat on the coach reading something on his phone, or at least he was supposed to. In reality his eyes were glazing over.

When he had first arrived, he’d shot everyone glare, and they all got the message to not bother him. He’d been angry, so incredibly angry he was practically vibrating.

Now, it was close to 1:00am, he’d calm down significantly. He rubbed his eyes together, feeling the burn of exhaustion behind them. It had been a long day.

“Tommy,”

“I know,” Thomas snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry,” his voice was quieter now, and Newt’s stance softened. “You don’t understand…I really thought she had died Newt. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I love her,” Thomas took in a shaky breath. “I know she’d never intentionally do that to me. Ever. I just…”

Newt hummed. He uncrossed his arms and sat next to Thomas. “That’s what happens when you fall in love, Thomas. You care, and you’re allowed to feel emotions. Honestly, it was the perfect storm. It was the one day she was done early, the one time she forgot her charger, the one time her phone died, everything just lined up perfectly.”

Thomas nodded along. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You could’ve been upset. I would have. But you’re right you definitely shouldn’t have yelled at her like that.”

“I feel shitty.”

“You should. If you didn’t then I’d be concerned. You should feel somewhat bad for yelling at someone you care about. Even if they deserve it, which y/n didn’t by the way.”

“Will…will she forgive me?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Obviously. She loves you too. And don’t even try to convince yourself otherwise.”

Thomas smiled to himself. For the first time, he actually believed that you could love him.

“I’m gonna head back. Thanks Newt,” Thomas said as he stood.

“Happy to help. No go apologize for being a twat, Tommy.”

Walking back into his room, he felt a twinge if guilt stab him. His bedside lamp was on, but you were clearly in an uncomfortable sleep. Occasionally you’d shiver, despite the covers, or you’d twitch. Thomas knelt by you, feeling his guilt spread through his body. Your fair was blotchy and your eyes were pink and puffy. His heart clenched tightly; he should be drying your tears, not causing them.

Sitting loosely in your hand was a slightly crumpled folded piece of paper. Tentatively, he lifted your fingers and grabbed it, leaving his hand. Opening it, he could see it was addressed to him.

Tommy,

This is probably my thousandth time writing this, but I just can’t seem to write down everything I want to say to you. I have such strong feelings that words don’t seem to do it any justice, so I guess I’ll just come out and say it.

I love you.

I love everything about you: your smile, your beautiful eyes that I just get lost in, the look of you face when you’re concentrating hard on something, and the way you make me feel so special every single day we’ve been together. You’re sweet, kind, and just everything I’ve ever wanted.

I know I said it earlier today, and yes that was a slip, but I’m glad it happened. I feel like I’ve loved you for awhile now, and just haven’t had the courage to tell you. Well, now I want to be able to tell you every single day that I love you, I love how I can be myself around you, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us. Because I know that as long as we have each other, nothing can stand in our way.

I love you so much Tommy. I love you with everything that I am.

Forever yours,

y/n

Thomas wasn’t sure when he’d started, but some of his tears started falling onto the page, smudging the words together. He let the paper flutter to the floor, staring up at your sleeping form. You loved him too.

He just hoped you’d forgive him.

He didn’t plan on waking you, deciding he’d sleep on the floor if had too. He was trying to keep his hiccups done and his own sobs quiet so he wouldn’t wake you. Grabbing Newt’s pillow, he set it on the floor next to his bed. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling through his tears.

You stirred, eyes blinking open. Thomas froze; he didn’t mean to wake you.

“Tommy…is that you?” you asked groggily.

“I’m so sorry,” Thomas sobs became more uncontrollable, wrecking through his body while he tried to take in deep breaths, but he couldn’t get any air into his lungs.

Next thing he knew, he was on his bed with your arms around him. His face was buried into the crook of your neck, soaking the sweatshirt you were wearing. He heard you murmuring soothing words into his ear while you ran your fingers through his hair.

After awhile his breathing calmed down, and his tears stopped flowing. He lifted his head to see fresh tears on your face, giving him a watery smile.

He lifted his hand and wiped away some of the lingering tears. “Baby, why are you crying?”

“I don’t like seeing you upset.”

He chuckled at that. “Neither do I, princess,” Thomas swallowed. “I’m sorry. Really. I-I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s not like you did anything wrong, or you set your dorm building on fire. I just-I just got so scared that you were gone, because I-I don’t want to lose you. I-I love you,”

You smiled softly at him, squeezing his arm. “I love you too, Tommy. Have for awhile now, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Thomas let out a breathy laugh and bit his lip. “…I read your letter…”

“Yeah?”

“You…you really feel that?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Of course, I literally just said it too.” You were smiling brightly now, and Thomas would do anything to keep that smile on your face. The way your eyes lit up, crinkling around the edges. Somehow, he was falling deeper in love with you.

“I know this week has sucked with finals, and I had plans for dinner. I was gonna tell you today after you said it on the phone. I know you didn’t mean to say it, but I thought it’d be a perfect opportunity. Tomorrow I have my last final, so if you wouldn’t mind postponing your studying so we can spend the morning together? Have breakfast? Then you can study and I’ll take my final. Once this shitshow’s over we’re gonna be spending so much time together you’re gonna get sick of me.”

“Tommy, I’d never get sick of you. Breakfast sounds wonderful. A lazy morning with the love of my life.”

There wasn’t much talking after that, save for the occasional mutters of ‘I love you’ now that you could both say it freely. Mostly, it was soft kisses, gentle touches, and the two of you holding each other so close that eventually lulled you both into a deep sleep.

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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Summary: As a Jedi, you had to formally accept your new apprentice and your new Master.Obi-Wan, Anakin and Ahsoka from the beginning of their apprenticeships to their ends. AN: It's 1 am but I am here and queer and crying about baby Padawan disaster lineage. Read on AO3!

It was in the aftermath of their disastrous situation that Qui-Gon said the words Obi-Wan had been dreaming of hearing for such a long time. He always thought it would be in the aftermath of a tournament, perhaps after he had shown great courage and self-control, or maybe during a meditation session in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Never, not even in his wildest dreams, had Obi-Wan thought he’d be clinging to his new Master’s robes, bloody and full of dirt, tears running over his cheeks as he tried to get a grip on his emotions and panic. In the moment Obi-Wan had not once thought about his fears. There was only what was and what must be done. He had focused only on his task and now that he was finally allowed to reflect on his actions, it all came crashing down on him.

His shoulders wouldn’t stop shaking and he couldn’t calm his breath and the world wouldn’t stop spinning. Obi-Wan must look like a youngling, helpless and overwhelmed, but no matter what shame befell him, every other emotion was much larger, the size of a sun.

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon soothed him, running his hand in circles over his back. “You have done well.”

He had, hadn’t he?

Obi-Wan had finally proved himself. He knew he was meant to be a Knight someday. He saw it in his dreams sometimes, flickering images of calling out to a Padawan or two, never clear enough to see their faces, but Obi-Wan knew they were his.

He had to be there for them.

“Obi-Wan, I want you to listen well,” Qui-Gon said. “Padenji foh keelak chareu leoah foh. Leoah foh keelak Padawanir.”

The words, so kind and full of hope, almost made Obi-Wan cry even more. He bit on his lips and forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Mimayaah foh keelak mipadananal kat fehl. Leoah foh keelak Jaiehir," Obi-Wan replied.

Qui-Gon smiled down at him, happy, and everything was exactly as it was meant to be. The weight of every world finally left Obi-Wan’s shoulders and he knew he was on the right path.

Obi-Wan took in the sight of little Anakin Skywalker. The seamstress of the Royal House of Naboo had put together a proper outfit for him. The boy looked the exact part of a Jedi, even if his robes were admittedly a little fancier than the typical Padawan robes. There was no use to get extra clothes for younglings likely to tear them and outgrow them within a month, but the look suited Anakin and Obi-Wan had almost smiled when the boy had put on the robes, amazed at how soft they were.

“I’m tired,” Anakin said, yawning, and rubbed his eyes.

They had decided to stay on Naboo for another month so they could sort out Anakin’s legal paperwork. As it turned out, freeing a slave wasn’t as easy as just buying them. They had needed to get his chip out and get him the right citizenship. Anakin Skywalker had been granted the Naboo citizenship, gifted to him by the Queen herself. Not in an official ceremony, it couldn’t reach the Senate that Naboo royalty had bought a slave but Obi-Wan was sure that Anakin had appreciated the informal dinner more than he would have anything excessively festive. It all was very overwhelming to him.

Obi-Wan opened up the doors to their quarters and against all expectations, Anakin did not head to bed immediately. Instead, the boy went to their little kitchen to make tea. Obi-Wan had gotten used to Anakin’s habit by now, and yet it struck him how rigorously he stuck to it. Anakin picked out the one tea brand that they had been able to find that was to both their tastes, spicy but sweet, and slowly filled two cups with the tea. He gave one to Obi-Wan and took the other for himself.

The first night they had slept in these rooms, Anakin had only hesitantly offered a cup to Obi-Wan, cheeks hollow and pale, and then, hours later, quietly asked for permission to sleep next to Obi-Wan. They had come far already in such a short time. Anakin had gained some fat and spoke more freely.

His Padawan was doing well.

Obi-Wan let out a low breath.

“Anakin,” he said. “You know you are part of the Jedi Order now, right?”

Anakin nodded quickly as if he were afraid Obi-Wan would take it away if he wasn’t fast enough. This wouldn’t be a problem had Obi-Wan already gone through with it. “Yes.”

“And you are my Padawan. Do you know what that means?”

“You will teach me?” Anakin replied, his statement more a question.

“Exactly. Nobody has told you yet, but we have a tradition.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste of the tea. He wondered how Qui-Gon had felt when he’d taken Obi-Wan on. Had it been similar to this? He desperately wished his Master was still here so that he could ask him for advice.

“Padenji foh keelak chareu leoah foh. Leoah foh keelak Padawanir,” Obi-Wan said slowly.

Anakin frowned ever so slightly and tiled his head.

“I said that I will teach you everything I know and I know you as my Padawan,” Obi-Wan repeated in Basic. “It is something a Master swears when they take on a Padawan. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you our language as well.”

“Oh.”

Anakin held his cup in his hands and Obi-Wan supposed that if not for it, he would be fidgeting and pulling at the hems of the sleeves.

“Is there- is there anything the student swears as well?” Anakin asked carefully. He was looking at Obi-Wan’s hands, not daring to meet his eyes,

“Yes, there is,” Obi-Wan said. “Very good, Anakin. Try to repeat this: Mimayaah foh keelak mipadananal kat fehl. Leoah foh keelak Jaiehir.”

Anakin stumbled over the words, his tongue unused to the vowels and soft melodic lift. Half his words were unidentifiable, and yet Obi-Wan felt his heart warm. This journey wouldn’t be easy, but they had taken the first step. Tomorrow would be another day and life would go on.

For the first time since the fight against the Sith Lord, Obi-Wan actually thought of the latter as a positive thing.

Anakin wasn’t sure what to think of the youngling. He hadn’t wanted a Padawan. He was barely twenty, much too young for being responsible for a child, never mind for one stuck in a battlefield. If he didn’t teach her well, she’d die and it would be his fault. The weight of the responsibility on his shoulders was almost too much. And yet, as Anakin looked at Ahsoka Tano with her slumped shoulders, he thought maybe.

The fact that the Council had just assigned him a Padawan, even if he could refuse her, still irked him and he’d be having words with them. This was not the Jedi way, but as his Master had pointed out endlessly over the last few months, none of this was the Jedi way.

“You're reckless, little one,” Anakin told Ahsoka.

She, somehow, managed to look even more saddened by that. They’d definitely need to work on that if she was to be Anakin’s Padawan. He couldn’t have an adorable youngling commanding his men. Not that she’d be in command for a long time.

“You never would have made it as Obi-Wan's Padawan. But you might make it as mine.”

Ahsoka quickly lifted her head, staring up at Anakin with disbelief written all over her face.

Anakin cracked a smile. Maybe this could give birth to something great.

“Padenji foh keelak chareu leoah foh. Leoah foh keelak Padawanir,” Anakin told her seriously.

Ahsoka beamed at him and quickly hurried to her feet to do a proper bow.

“Mimayaah foh keelak mipadananal kat fehl. Leoah foh keelak Jaiehir,” Ahsoka replied, almost stumbling over her words in her hurry to get them out.

Anakin smiled at her and then, remembering the warmth of Naboo, threw an arm around his new Padawan, hugging her from the side as he slowly guided her back into the direction of their company. He was glad this campaign was over. He needed to figure out what he was actually supposed to do with a Padawan and Ahsoka was likely going to crash within the hour from all the excitement.

New beginnings, Anakin thought, were worth it.

Translations:

“Padenji foh keelak chareu leoah foh. Leoah foh keelak Padawanir.” - I will teach you everything I know. I know you as (my) Padawan.

"Mimayaah foh keelak mipadananal kat fehl. Leoah foh keelak Jaiehir." - I entrust you with my education. I know you as (my) Master.

#star wars #Anakin Skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #tcw #fanfic #conlang #dai bendu

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nimmy22 · 3 years

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A Mistake: Chapter 3

They weaved through the streets of the lavish neighborhood doing their best to lose their pursuers. They crushed countless flowers and shrubs beneath their feet as they jumped from backyard to backyard. The sound of gunfire forced them to pump their muscles harder, run faster as the rain beat down on them without mercy.

Why was no one calling the police? A commotion like this would at least draw crowds of families curious about all the noise or the dead bodies littering the street and their neighbor's home.

Sherry tripped, skinning her hands and knees on the pavement. She had a second to cry in pain before Cara was already pulling her up to continue.

"I can't. It's too hard." Sherry cried, breathing laboriously as her lips trembled. "Can we take a break?" She struggled to contain her tears, knowing full well it wasn't the best time to start crying.

"I'm sorry, Sherry but not here. We have to keep moving," Cara warned, glancing behind her. She saw no one and didn't hear any gunshots, but that didn't make it safe. "I can't let them take you, Sherry. Come on, just a bit more, and we'll find help."

Sherry nodded before she began to run again. However, one step, and she yelped, wincing in pain as she put her weight on her knee. It hurt worse than when she fell off her bike while trying to teach herself. She was alone and had to patch things up herself until her mother finally noticed days later.

"What's wrong?"

"M-my knee hurts," Sherry whimpered, watching the older girl move closer to inspect the wound. Blood trickled down the little girl's legs before getting washed away by the rain.

"That looks bad," Cara sighed, turning her back to the little girl before squatting down. "Here, get on my back. I'll get us out of here."

With Sherry clinging tightly to her neck, Cara ran to the edge of the residential area and down a dirt path leading straight into the Arkley mountains. She hoped to find a hiding spot for them to catch their breath and figure out what to do.

They hid inside the base of a tree, only having each other to keep warm. The spiderwebs were all forgotten, as the girls' fear was now too exhausted. There was nothing left to spare for the tiny arachnoids fuming over their ruined webs.

What felt like hours passed, and the girls grew too cold and tired. The little Sherry's knee wasn't looking so good, the bleeding had stopped, but an infection may already be brewing beneath the skin given where they've been.

Seeing the young girl wince every so often, Cara decided it was time to move again. She needed to find help. Perhaps the men all killed each other during whatever conflict brewed up tonight.

Carrying the young girl on her back again, Cara left the forest to walk along a side road. She was on the lookout for a passing car. But their luck was too dry at this time in the night despite the rain.

"Thank you, Cara. I don't think I would've made out without you."

"I... didn’t do anything. I couldn't fight. All I did was grab you and run. God, I'm so damn useless." Cara let out a long sigh and stared down at her feet.

"You're helping me now, aren't you? You could've just left me or...or listened to those men and gave me up, but you didn't. I will definitely ask daddy to give you a raise." Sherry giggled and rested her head against Cara's back. She knew that if her friend wasn't there tonight, she would've been in the dark all alone or worse. She might've stayed hidden in that closet only to be found by the armed men. She didn't have anyone to develop the skills of hide and seek with.

"Oh, you better, or else I'm suing somebody for the years shaved off my life tonight. Your dad sure pissed off some powerful people. Who sends a whole armed squad on some doctor's house?"

"Daddy says there are people who wanted to buy his medicine, use it for bad things. But he told them no, and now they want to steal it." For a split second, Cara imagined Mr. Birkin dealing drugs with a gang, but that image didn't last long. The disheveled, nervous reck of a man with a million things to do simply didn't look the type.

"Did he keep it in the house?"

"I don't think so," Sherry shook her head.

The older girl pondered over it, agreeing with Sherry. If Mr. Birkin had kept this medicine in his home, then surely the security would've been better. And he especially wouldn't leave his only child alone in the house with it.

"They wanted to use you as a hostage. Probably force your dad to give them what they wanted."

"Daddy probably wouldn't care if they took me,"

"Hey! don't say that. Your parents love Sherry." Cara stopped walking and gave the little girl a shake.

"Then where are they? They are never home."

"Their work is very...important, I suppose,"

"More than me?"

"No! Not like that. I mean... it's just a lot-"

"Cara, look! There is a car coming!" the little girl jumped with excitement on Cara's exhausted back, but she paid it no mind as her eyes greedily drank the glow of the headlights coming down the road.

"Thank god," Cara exhaled deeply, feeling as if all her worries had just vanished. "Wait here, I will flag it down."

Cara stood in the middle of the road and waved both arms, trying to get the driver's attention like a madwoman. She definitely looked deranged, out in the rain in the wee hours of the morning. The headlights became increasingly more blinding as the car came closer. She couldn't tell the color of the car or anything about the driver.

The driver showed no signs of stopping, the speed fast and steady. "Please stop!" Cara shouted, her eyes pleading. "Please!" She won't waste the opportunity, god knows when the next car will drive by. She refused to move, standing her ground as the car sped towards her. Neither her racing heart nor the car slowed. For a moment, she thought it was the end, becoming roadkill at seventeen, having done nothing with her life.

But then it stopped, screeching to a halt inches from her shivering form. Cara let her hands fall to the hood, knees almost buckling beneath her. The hood felt warm and soothing against her icy skin. As she moved to the driver's side, she recognized the design of the police cruiser, one explicitly assigned to the STARS unit. Her heart pounded as a new source of hope offered itself to her. This seemed too good to be true.

"Thank you so much for stopping, officer! It's been a hellish night." Cara said, glancing over with a smile at Sherry, who responded with her own.

The door opened, and the officer stepped out, shining a bright flashlight at Cara. She was blinded and had to shut her eyes. "I know this will sound crazy, but please hear me out. I was babysitting this little girl when a group of armed men broke into the house and then-"

"Where is Sherry?" He asked all too calmly. Cara frowned. It wasn't his sense of calmness that unnerved her. It was the familiarity of his voice.

'Of course, it was too fucking good to be true.'

"Wait, how did you know her name was Sherry?" Cara demanded, taking several steps back. While his shades were missing, his slicked blond hair stood out to her. The rain dowsed her like buckets of ice. "You..."

"I won't ask again," He warned, walking towards her with a hand resting on his belt, ready to draw his gun. His eyes were an icy blue, radiating with the power of his cunning intelligence.

"I won't give her to you. Sherry, run-"

"Uncle Albert? Is that you?" The young girl limped over to them with newfound vigor and threw her arms around the older man. He hugged her for a moment before pushing her away, his eyes searching her for injuries.

"Sherry, no! get away from him," Cara jumped forward, snatching the little girl's hand, pulling her away.

"It's ok, Cara. He's daddy's friend." The little girl shook Cara's grip off her before hopping back into Wesker's arms. Sherry snuggled into the warmth of the older man, completely oblivious to the way Wesker stood, looking down at Cara. He cocked his head to the side with a conceited expression. Clenching her fists, she decided she didn't like him.

Wesker loomed closer to Cara, enjoying the way she stumbled back to get out of his way, almost tripping over her own feet. He deliberately bumped into her shoulder as he carried Sherry to the other side of the car, settling her gently into the back seat. He could've chosen the closest door, but where was the fun in that?

Cara stood dumbfounded, staring as the man who had only hours ago slit a man's throat and was now slapping a bandage on a little girl's knee in the backseat of a cruiser. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he tended to the little girl, finally noticing his police uniform.

"Who are you? Why are you pretending to be a cop? Who were those people? What are you going to do with Sherry?"

"I am an officer of the law."

"That's a load of shit. Say, in the slim, extremely slim chance you are actually a cop, shouldn't there be more...officers? Backup? A news station? A public statement? Something like this wouldn't happen in Raccoon and no one crowding in to watch."

"I handled it," Wesker said, strapping Sherry in the backseat before shutting the door. The little girl was already on her way to snoozing off.

"I don't understand, why-"

"Enough with the questions." He hissed, grabbing her arm. He found the little thing a pretty sight, but that mouth of hers was dangerous. "You better kill off that curiosity of yours before it lands you somewhere you'll never leave as a warm body. Don't be another babysitter we have to send a severance package to."

"You're going to kill me," Cara's laugh was void of humor, succeeding in tipping her tears down her cheeks.

"Just be quiet and get in the car."

"Why should I? You could change your mind in a split second and put a bullet in my head."

Wesker twisted her arm behind her back before shoving her against the passenger door. "Then don't tempt me," his hot breath tickled her ear as he delivered his warning. "And if I did go for it, I wouldn't simply kill you. I'll get everyone you love. One unfortunate accident after the next." His hand trailed up her back to wrap around the back of her neck. She whimpered as he shoved her face harder against the glass.

Cara shuddered, processing the gravity of her situation. The man was a trained killer and supposedly an officer. She had already witnessed him kill, had felt his icy blade to her neck. There was no doubt in her mind that he would deliver on his warning. The real question was when?

The first person to cross her mind was Claire. Truly, there were so few people that Cara cared about and who cared for her. The Redfield siblings only had each other, and Cara couldn't live with the guilt of being the cause of her friend's death. Claire was her anchor when everything spun out of control in her life. She would do anything to protect those important to her.

"Fine," She grumbled, taking out her frustration on her bottom lip. She sunk her teeth into the cracked flesh until she tasted the metallic flavor, but that didn't help get rid of the bad taste already in her mouth.

"Great, now we can finally get out of the rain." Wesker stepped away from Cara, already missing the warmth of her body. Perhaps he should've prolonged it for a few more minutes, drove her further into tears. The thought alone stirred something inside of him.

The tension left Cara's body as her arms were freed, and she rubbed her abused muscles, cursing the bastards' existence. She would do all she could to never again make his acquaintance. He started the car as soon as she was seated.

She banged her head against the window as he suddenly leaned over her. "The hell are you doing? I knew it! You already changed your mind," She hissed, failing miserably to shove his hands away.

"Safety first." He purred, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he reached over and buckled her seatbelt in one swift movement. She sat straighter than she ever did her whole life and simply stared straight ahead. She decided that if she simply ignored his existence, he would cease to be, and she'd wake up from this horrible, horrible nightmare. Her body has to be taking revenge for all the heart-disease heavy foods she'd been stuffing herself with, concocting such an awful nightmare for her. How is this a wake-up call if she couldn't pinch even herself awake?

It took too much effort for Cara to keep her eyes on the road. She immediately attributed it to sitting next to a killer. There was definitely no other reason. She kept shifting in her seat, unable to stay still. On the other hand, Sherry was out cold in the back, a fuzzy blanket draped over her.

Cara's fidgeting halted as Wesker tossed something into her lap. She picked it up with furrowed brows, inspecting it. It was some kind of badge, but not just any badge. It identified him as Albert Wesker, captain of the STARS alpha team. It looked legit, something similar to what Chris was issued. She has a thousand questions, but the man with the answers was the most uncooperative bastard she ever met. One more question and she's sure he will throw her out of the moving car.

'He was a cop, a crooked one. How many more in the police could be trusted? Who could help her? Was Chris- No! he wouldn't be part of something like this.' Cara's thought, mind fighting itself, too many thoughts wanted to be the focus.

"You were quite the shatter box not too long ago. Why so quiet now?" Wesker asked, enjoying the sequence of emotions flicker across her face.

"You practically told me to shut up," she tossed the badge onto the dashboard before resting her head against the window. She knew she was in way over her head.

"I said to stop the questions. You can still talk,"

"No."

"Alright then, suit yourself then."

It must've been the warmth of the car or the fatigue of the night that lulled Cara to sleep because she was startled awake by a ridiculously high-speed bump. Her sleep hazed eyes scanned her surroundings before she sat up straight, recognizing where she was.

Wesker had parked the cruiser right in front of her apartment building, a living place for the lesser members of society as it was all they could afford. Her wide eyes found him, and she audibly swallowed. "How did you know where I live."

"Of course, I help my dear friend run background checks on all his employees. One in his position needs to be incredibly careful with whom he uses." Wesker said, reaching an arm to rest on the back of her seat. She recoiled away as if stung by a bee.

"Is this your home, Cara? Can I come with you?" Sherry asked, having woken from her sleep minutes before. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her uncle's muscular arm.

"I-"

"Maybe next time Sherry. After we drop off Cara here, we're going straight to your parents." Wesker said, a sense of finality in his tone that had the little girl obediently return to her seat.

Cara opened her mouth to protest him knowing her name but remembered his background check and shut her mouth. He must know everything legally in the record on her, including her parent's colorful histories.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Cara was surprised to see him exit the car. He came around to her side and knocked on the window, mentioning for her to get out. He barely gave her space to get out as he stood right by the passenger door with his arm resting on the roof of the car. She was forced to brush past him as his towering frame refused to step back. She caught the scent of gunpowder, soap, and the faintest traces of a cologne. And of course, blood. Despite her terror, she found herself taking a deeper inhale than she intended.

"Tonight, you watched Sherry until her uncle came home, and then they gave you a ride home because of the rain. Nothing. Else. Happened. You understand?" Wesker said, bending down to be at eye level with the trembling girl. With surprising tenderness, he moved her hair out of her face, but his eyes were anything but. She stood very still, wishing the ground would swallow her up. Her attempt at looking away was met with a firm grip on her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." She answered, voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. A lump formed in her throat as her eyes welled up, but she refused to cry.

"Don't mess up if you can't handle the consequences." Satisfied with his work, he stepped away, watching as the girl raced home.

"You can be so mean, Uncle Albert," Sherry whined once the officer returned to the driver's seat.

"Really? I didn't notice."

#resident evil #Albert Wesker X OC #albert wesker

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keiziahknight1886 · 4 years

Text

Change

[Change (A Connor x Reader story based on Detroit: Become Human)] Chapter One

Chapter Two

xX0Xx

As Lieutenant Anderson left after grabbing him by the collar and forcing him on a glass panel, Connor straightens his appearance by fixing his slightly creased collar and adjusting his tie.

He had tried to improve his relationship with the Lieutenant but in the end, the said man had remained hostile towards him. He was about to follow but was ultimately stopped by the captain.

"Connor, my office!"

He entered the office again but this time around the Captain was in a somewhat better mood than when he had been with the Lieutenant.

"Do you need something, Captain?"

"You see that woman over there?"

Captain Fowler pointed to a desk far back, there sat a woman in a desk with h/l h/c hair, black bomber jacket, dark blue jeans, and combat boots. She was handling paperwork with Officer Wilson and also typing on her desk.

"That's Detective Y/n Anderson, take her with you when you investigate the next android related case. Give me a report about her performance after that."

"Understood. Will that be all?"

"Yes, you can go now."

Connor then exits the office and walks over to where Detective Anderson was, once he was close enough he scanned her face to get more information about her.

DT. ANDERSON, Y/N Born: mm/dd/2011 // Police Detective Criminal record: None

[HANK'S DAUGHTER]

The words flashed in front of him as he approached her.

"Detective Anderson, my name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife."

She looked up and he saw e/c eyes look at him, she slightly tilts her head and he took this as a sign of confusion.

"What can I do for you?"

"Captain Fowler told me that the next time we have a case related to an android we take you with us."

"Really now?" she stood up with a smirk on her face and Connor deduced it as excitement.

"Yes, we received new information about an AX400 that attacked its owner last night and we're going to investigate it right now."

"I see... Did the Captain say anything else?"

Connor decided between not telling her about the report or informing her about it, he chose the latter in hopes to build a somewhat neutral relationship with her.

"Yes, the Captain also said that I should report your performance after."

"Huh... The Captain's testing me? Well, let's see how it goes then."

Y/N▲ NEUTRAL

The two walk outside to where Lieutenant Anderson was waiting impatiently, his brows slightly raised and Connor noticed the decrease in his hostility upon seeing his daughter. He also noticed the slight discomfort in his body language as well as the Detective's.

"Uh... What're you doing here?" Lieutenant Anderson asked a bit awkwardly and Y/n spoke in the same manner.

"Cap told me to assist. Don't worry, I won't be a burden."

"You're not..." the Lieutenant paused and then sighed in annoyance. "Whatever, just get in the car."

Connor saw the hesitation in the Lieutenant and the frown on the Detective's face, it made him realize that the Lieutenant did not have the best relationship with his daughter.

"It's fine, I'll take my own car. I'll just follow."

Detective Anderson then looks at Connor at gives him a small smile.

"You can ride with me if you want."

He had two choices, between riding with Y/n or the Lieutenant, and since the Lieutenant seemed to loath his presence he decided that going with the Detective would be the better option.

Connor entered the front seat and the Lieutenant already drove off without them.

The drive was silent and as Connor looked around the car he scanned a few of the things in it. There were stickers on the front window that showed what occupation she had among others and a few decorations. She also drove an old school car which seems to be a theme between both father and daughter.

Detective Anderson played music on the stereo at a low volume which was a big contrast to how loud her father would play music as he drove. The more he observed, the more he saw the stark differences between them.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Detective Anderson?"

"You can just call me Y/n. People usually call my dad by our last name so it sometimes gets confusing. And yeah, sure."

"You and your father are very different, you act in different ways and yet you're related and even live together. Why is that?"

Connor saw Y/n pursed her lips a frown made its way to her face.

"I don't really know how to answer that. Does it bother you?"

Connor thought for a bit and since it seems like he touched a bad subject he didn't want Y/n, who has been more polite to him, to become hostile like her father. So, he took a friendlier approach to her.

"No, it doesn't. You've been nice to me and I highly appreciate that." Y/n smiled at his answer he could see her relax.

Y/N▲

The drive didn't take long and they soon arrived at the scene where the android was last seen. Lieutenant Anderson was already there talking with Detective Collins and being briefed about the situation. It was already raining outside and since there was a black umbrella under Connor's foot space, he decided to take it before he went outside.

Y/n tilted his head at him in slight confusion and watched him walk over to her side of the car, after she turned off the engine she went out and Connor opened the umbrella for her.

"Oh, you don't need to do that." Y/n says as she puts on a waterproof beanie.

"I insist."

"Okay, thanks then."

Y/n smiled at Connor to which he found a bit odd but followed as they both walked over to Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Collins.

"Morning, Detective." Y/n sent a smile towards Detective Collins who smiled back at her.

"Ah, Y/n. The sweeter Anderson."

Y/n chuckled at the statement where the Lieutenant groaned.

"You on the assignment now?" Collins asked and Y/n shook her head.

"Maybe only for today, I didn't have any assignments and the Captain probably wanted me to do something."

"Well, it's good to have another of Detroit's finest on the job."

"Well, they probably won't need me much since you're here."

Y/n and Collins continued their friendly chat while not forgetting about the details. Connor immediately notices the difference in Y/n's interaction with the other detective today and the Lieutenant's last night. Y/n seems to be a much friendlier person to most people while her father was the least pleasant one.

Connor listened to their exchange of details and the Lieutenant walks over to him with a tablet at hand reading through the intel. He also went through the details he heard and deduced that maybe it didn't go far.

"Alright, after getting info, the only thing I can think of was that it didn't have a plan and that it's probably still in the area." Y/n spoke as she quickly surveyed the area.

"Excellent deduction, Detective."

"Why, thank you." she smiled at Connor which was another difference the father and daughter had.

While the older Anderson kept frowning the other seemed to be more cheerful and friendly.

"I'll join the officers in sweeping the area. I'll call if I see anything."

Y/n walks away and surveys the area, another thing she was known for was her good eye and how she sees simple but important details. In this case, she saw a woman with short brown hair and a little girl hurriedly leaving the area, seemingly looking scared. She jogs up to them to question them about the deviant, thinking that maybe they're scared of the police and their presence.

"Excuse me, ma'am? Is everything alright?"

She got a better look at the woman and could see the fear in her eyes, after closer inspection she was definitely the deviant they were looking for, nevertheless, Y/n didn't want to scare her off. She saw the deviant try to fake a smile while holding on to the little girl tighter.

"Yes, everything's fine."

"Great, that's good. Then would you mind if I ask a few-"

"Hey, it's Detective Anderson!" one of the police officers in the area called out her name which sent the deviant into a panic.

The android pushed her aside and ran past the other officers, the android and little girl ran but Y/n was quick to follow.

"Call it in!" Y/n shouted at the two officers while running after them.

One of the officers ran after Y/n and the other ran back to Connor and Lieutenant Anderson, informing them that Y/n had found the deviant and was running after it.

After Connor hears this, the Lieutenant gave him a look of approval and so, he made chase. He was quick to catch up to Y/n thanks to his enhancements and they both stopped at a wired fence where the deviant and the little girl had already made it through.

"Stop, don't go any further!"

Y/n yelled out while Connor stared at the deviant. Another officer came and pointed a gun at it but was stopped by Connor.

"Don't shoot! We need it alive!"

The android and the little girl ran through the high-speed road while Y/n stares in disbelief. Her father catches up to them and also shared the same disbelief as her.

"Oh f**k, that's insane..."

They watched them miraculously make their way through but her attention shifted after she heard rustling, she saw Connor trying to climb up the fence while her father pushed him down to stop him.

"Hey! Where you goin'?"

"I can't let them get away."

"They won't! They'll never make it to the other side."

"I can't take that chance."

"Hey, You will get yourself killed! Do NOT go after 'em, Connor. That's an order!"

Connor was about to disobey the Lieutenant's orders but he felt another hand on his other shoulder trying to stop him from moving.

"Connor, don't."

Something in Y/n's serious tone of voice, very different from her usually friendly demeanor, made Connor stand down. The way she spoke, that wasn't even an order, made him want to follow the command and he could feel an instability in his program because of it.

Y/N▲

HANK▲

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY▲

"Let's go, we won't be able to catch it now." Y/n's voice was cold and she turned to walk away.

Connor and Lieutenant Anderson followed her silently. The Lieutenant looked like he wanted to say something to her and Connor saw the same hesitance he previously showed but decided not to comment on it nor ask.

When they reached Collins, Y/n reported what had happened and asked the other police officers to request available units who can access the other side of the road it crossed to follow it if possible.

"Come on, let's go back to the station." Y/n motioned for Conner and he obeyed obediently.

The ride back to the precinct was silent, Y/n didn't even play any music. Connor examined her and he could see her body language sag because of disappointment and so, he apologized.

"I'm sorry I couldn't catch the deviant, Detective."

"No, it's fine. It was my fault I wasn't faster. I should have arrested it the minute I saw it."

"What do you mean?"

"Hm? Oh, I was already talking to it, trying to get it in peacefully before the other officer spooked it away."

"So you already found it before it ran away?"

"Yep, I should've been faster. It's my fault, not yours."

Connor analyzed the situation and thought of the proper response, whether to be optimistic, realistic or negative.

He opted to be optimistic since Y/n could use the cheering up.

"I think what you did was excellent, Detective. You were able to spot it faster than anyone else and you were even able to catch up to it. We'll be able to find it faster now because of your great work."

Connor saw her smile and she directed that smile to him.

"Thanks."

Y/N▲

Connor saw her posture relax a bit more and when she turned on the music he knew he was successful in trying to make her mood better.

xX0Xx

Chapter Three

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human connor x reader #connor #rk800 #x reader #reader insert #connor x reader #dbh connor #reader is an anderson #hank anderson #rk800 connor

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andy-the-8th · 3 years

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Day Of and Day After - Jess (Part 1)

First part of Creatures That Defy Logic - picks up right at the end of the movie

Read on AO3

There are a lot emotions wrapped up in seeing your best friend transform into a merman

"I finally get a friend, and he turns into a fish; this is so typical."

Damn, there were a lot of feelings wrapped up in the last few minutes. Jess had always been better with facts over feelings - science was straightforward, people were complicated. The whirlpool of emotions over such a quick span of time even more complicated, for him as well as everyone else there on the dock.

Exhilaration and awe - it was one thing to have been alongside Cody for the last few weeks, see his changes, speculate and then know he was a merman, in theory - and another thing entirely to see him fully transform and breach with a glittering tail right in broad daylight. Not exactly every day that creatures (people?) straight out of mythology just appear right in front of you. And the excitement that they'd get to hear about whatever he saw when he was away? New sealife, mysteries of the open oceans, may even merpeople culture? One hell of a prospect for anyone, triply so for an aspiring marine biologist.

Relief - more of a twofold sensation as well. Most prominently in the last few minutes, it certainly was a relief to not be dead. Almost drowning, no vital signs, shocked back to life by merman lightning - that'll do a wild number on your feelings about your own mortality. Still, Jess was kind of surprised that that wasn't the main sense of relief he felt right now.

Much more powerfully, he was relieved that Cody was safe. That boy's lack of self-preservation had scared Jess half to death plenty of times over - risking himself at the swim meets, ignoring the advice to stay away from the water, potentially blowing his cover to Sean or the school or worse. Whether or not it was normal to care so much, Jess didn't know or really care - he had spent plenty of nights unable to sleep, worried sick with images of cruel scientists, cold laboratory tanks, faceless men in black suits, dissection tables, taxidermists, freak shows - all kinds of threats, and the only thing Jess could about them was to try to keep Cody's secret.

So all that in mind, there was the relief that Cody had finally gotten away from all of that. Going off with his mermaid mom (mermom?), another mythological creature as far as 99.99% of the world knew, safely out to sea. Maybe that was merpeople's best protection, that short of having physical evidence, most of the world didn't believe in them - guess that's how they manage to avoid discovery. Most people anyway. On that topic though, the next feeling Jess was dealing with -

Anger. This one didn't even really start to register until after Cody had resurfaced to wave goodbye one last time, but thinking about all the threats he'd been afraid of, Jess couldn't avoid the conclusion that his own father should have been at the top of that list. Hadn't he literally just kidnapped his friend to use him as bait? What had been his plan then, if he'd caught Cody's mom? His dad's mermaid obsession had just been a mundane fact of life growing up - a kind of sad, fruitless endeavor. He didn't like to think his dad was crazy, but it didn't mean he really had believed his mermaid stories and theories since he'd grown out of that. It was just like any parent's eccentric hobby - kind of embarrassing sometimes but ultimately innocuous, right? Jess hadn't ever thought of how dangerous it might have been if his father had caught on - and he mentally kicked himself for not making that connection, for not planning for it, for not talking his dad out of it - Jess had basically caught him at the swim meet, and guessed he'd have put it together when Jess was reading through his mermaid theory papers, talking about the thirteenth year theory - but actually capturing Cody and his mom? The dull, cold fear that had caught in Jess's throat when he'd seen his father testing the giant net, when he'd biked at top speed to the Griffin's house, when he'd found the cove empty, Cody already gone -

Well, at least the upside of almost-dying was shocking John Wheatley into the danger of his actions, to his own son if not the merpeople. Jess was pretty sure his father just hadn't been thinking of the consequences past simply catching the mermaid - was never really much of a realist like that.

This didn't make Jess any less angry with him.

On top of all of these feelings, and maybe least expected - loss?

He definitely wasn't expecting that. Sure, the feeling of loss was all around him - however temporary his departure, Cody going away was definitely crossing a line. He wasn't human, and for each person on the dock, that meant on some level, he wasn't really theirs anymore. Sam was losing her boyfriend, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin their child. In a way even his dad was losing his proof to justify his obsessive search over the last 13 years. Sure, Jess was losing his friend, but hadn't their relationship been built around helping Cody through this transformation? What was he losing, if this was just the logical endpoint? He'd known where the transformation was headed, and he didn't expect to feel anything other than scientific satisfaction now it was done.

Jess told himself it was natural to feel like this; humans are social creatures, empathy has been one of our strongest survival tools over the course of our evolution. To solve problems together. To care about each other. Like it or not, we feel how the others around us feel, in one way or another. It was simple science.

His whole time with Cody had been like the best science project ever - an fantastical extension of the assignment that had brought them together. The thrill of getting to know him had been tied to the thrill of discovering his new abilities, helping him test them, spending hours talking through theories and myths. From a purely scientific standpoint, spending time with Cody was fascinating. It was simply to be expected that he'd want to spend as much time with him as he could - as a scientist.

What Jess hadn't expected was Cody's interest in getting to know him in turn. It made sense - Cody was going through strange changes, and Jess was the closest source of finding answers. And more or less, Jess knew that that was the glue of their friendship. He wasn't bothered by that, really.

Of course Cody would listen attentively when he went off on a string of marine biology theories, whether to get ahead in school or to make sense of his transformations. Of course he'd start asking Jess to hang out when they were free - no one else knew what was going on, and he'd been drifting away from his real friends. Cody didn't trust anyone else with the secret - and that was simple self-preservation, to seek out a scientist, rather than a friend. Especially someone who wouldn't blow the secret.

And there had been a kind of special thrill in that for the first few weeks - Jess got to be the only one who knew. Jess got to be the only one who Cody trusted.

A purely scientific thrill.

Jess suddenly shivered as the salty breeze picked up a bit, snapping him out of his own head and the feelings rushing through it. Cody had probably only been gone a few minutes, even if it felt like hours. Mrs. Griffin was still quietly crying, leaning back on Mr. Griffin, both of them still facing the water. Jess didn't really know if he was supposed to say anything to them, or leave them to each other. Should he confront his dad now? Should he try to talk to Sam? oh god he should apologize for the kissing comment but would that just make it worse?

The silence grew more tense for the next several moments, until Sam finally spoke.

"I - I guess I'll just be going home now." Jess could hear that she was pushing to sound confident after crying. She shook her long red hair back behind her shoulders and readjusted her shirt as she stood up straight.

"Oh hon, don't worry, we can drive you back to your place." Mrs. Griffin looked up, finding her voice again, almost sounding relieved to be able to help someone, do something.

"No thanks, Mrs. G, I want to walk. I want to, uh, decompress. Take some time alone to, to y'know, process this. Just feel like I should get some air" she finished hurriedly, with a half-laugh, at the normality of the statement. She nodded awkwardly as she backed away, toward the steps leading up from the floating dock, a pursed-lips-everything's-fine-fake-smile on her face. "Jess, I'll see you at school then?"

Sam had almost never acknowledged him outside of talking through or next to Cody, so Jess gave a somewhat confused nod and tried to smile at her. They only had one day of school left, mostly to pack up books, say goodbye to everyone, and leave for the summer.

"OK wait then" Mrs. Griffin was quickly more serious, purposeful. "I know this would probably go without saying, but you kids cannot tell anyone what happened here." She was talking at Jess and Sam, but had an uncharacteristically sharp glare at Big John as she said this. He didn't miss that, and immediately looked penitent and cowed.

Clearly, Jess wasn't the only one angry at his father for using Cody as live bait.

"Of course!" Jess immediately responded emphatically, even a bit incredulously. He was almost put out that she felt the need to say this, as if they all hadn't - as if he hadn't, longer than anyone - kept Cody's secret safe.

"We'll, um...we'll just tell the school, um..." she was casting about, turning to her husband, looking for a quick explanation.

"Hon we don't need to tell the school anything right now - it's summer vacation, it's not that weird to leave a day early."

"No, we need to be clear, we need a convincing story -

"If anyone really asks we can say he's doing a swim training camp, and he'll be away most of the summer" Mr. Griffin offered, a slight twinge of his usual humor back in his inflection. "It's not really that far from the truth. We'll say it's somewhere in Australia, far enough away from anyone looking to visit or call. And your sister lives out there anyway." He put his hand on his wife's shoulder - Jess thought it looked like he was reassuring and steadying himself as much as he was for her.

Sharon breathed quickly, calming herself. "OK, perfect!" Mrs. Griffin clearly seemed relieved - not calmed, but at least less frantic. Jess was also happy to have something simple and straightforward to tell anyone who asked.

Not like anyone will ask *me* anyway he thought. Jess always had been used to being more or less invisible when it came to social gossip at school, which he honestly preferred. And furthermore, probably for the better, it wasn't like anyone really associated him with Cody, even the teachers. At least not in any meaningful way beyond biology homework. No one would think to ask the nerd that Cody Griffin got unluckily saddled with for a science project what had happened to him.

"OK. OK, good. I'll see you all later then." Sam was hurriedly wiping her face as she turned on her heel, dashing up the steps to the main pier above the floating dock. She was quickly out of sight.

"Jess, you wanna go home, get dried off?" His dad was looking at him now, worry still coating his words. John Wheatley was not a particularly emotional man when it came to anything other than fishing and sea monster stories, but he clearly had not forgotten how close a call his son had just had. "Maybe go to a doctor?"

Jess could hear Mrs. Griffin's sharp intake of breath at what Cody had always humorously called "the D word." Thinking of Cody laughing at that caused the corner of Jess's mouth to twitch up for a second. But once his dad had turned to him, Jess could still see Mrs. Griffin staring daggers into his back.

"No I'll be fine. I feel fine, really." Jess could hear his anger seeping into his own voice and inflection but didn't really care. John Wheatley may have been more thoughtless than he was malicious, but that wasn't enough for Jess to forgive him right now, and he was still too much of a mess of emotions to process any of that with other people.

"I'm going to head home. Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, um, have a good summer?" His inflection put it through as a question - he wasn't really sure what to say but at least that sounded funny enough to deflate the situation as much as possible. It worked - both the Griffins kind of quietly laughed at that.

"You too Jess. We'll see you soon." Jess smiled back at Mrs. Griffin's words, then hesitantly started to walk back up the dock. He was actually surprised that he didn't feel any dizziness or illness after being revived - apparently merman-made hand (fin?) defibrillation worked wonders for the body. He turned and started up the steps roughly, quickening as he reached the top. Big John didn't move to stop him, pausing awkwardly at the foot of the steps, clearly getting the message that Jess didn't want to talk to him right now. Jess reached the main dock and turned across the parking lot of the marina, down the little road toward the family boat yard and sheds, shoulders straight, and not looking back.

#the thirteenth year #mermen #mermaid #dcom #disney #disney channel original movies

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 30 – Wrong Start

“I give you 10 seconds for you to confess, whoever it is.”

Muzaka’s statement resonated in the air, left unanswered by his closest and most trusted warriors.

None of the four warriors could fancy what was in their lord’s head, and they were busy exchanging looks among themselves, until Garda, as the most experienced of all warriors, decided to be the vanguard.

“Pardon me, my lord, but... I am afraid we have no idea what you want to discuss with us.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I mean, can I make it any more obvious?”

Muzaka sighed from the bottom of his guts, as if he just encountered the gravest tragedy he has ever witnessed.

“Don’t you hear that? Our little girl throwing a raging, hissy fit as we speak.”

Oh.

No mouth in the area ever moved, but an identical sound rang in their heads in synchronization.

In fact, questions had been ringing in their heads even before Muzaka summoned them.

‘What on earth had happened to Lunark?’

‘Why is she so mad?’

‘Shouldn’t we stop her? At this rate, she’ll blow up at least 10% of our land.’

By the time damages caused by Union’s biological weapons were almost as good as gone, out of the blue thundered new cacophony undeniably from a work of destruction.

It turned out Lunark was to blame, slashing and trashing like a bull that has spotted a red flag, as reported by two rookie warriors that were dispatched to find out the cause of it.

And she was doing one hell of a job, so vicious that they could not even get close, let alone ask her what was wrong.

“But it seems her reasons are still functioning. She’s wreaking havoc at that infamous forest. But really, does anybody have any idea what’s gotten into the girl? Whether it is condolence or understanding or reprimand that she needs, I’ll be able to choose one only when I find out why she’s doing... All that. Anybody? Please?”

Nobody moved a muscle to Muzaka’s inquiry-slash-request, for they were just as clueless as he was.

That is, all except one.

Garda learned about Lunark’s rampage from new warriors, who were already throwing a talk party of their own regarding the grey-haired warrior’s behavior, and she ran to the spot right away to check what was going on.

And she could pick up Lunark’s voice even before reaching the forest, from which the former usually stays away.

“Aaaaaaaaaagh!!”

She managed to catch a glimpse of the younger warrior from afar, who was screeching an array of unrecognizable vowels and syllables, with her hands shifted into battle stance as she was hurling towards whatever she could reach, air, trees, or leaves afloat.

Garda had no choice but to retreat, partially because she got scared for her own life, and partially because she was beyond puzzled, never having seen Lunark so unbridled.

Luckily, she could spot Lunark’s face right before she turned away, which left a concerning impression in her head.

‘It looks to me she isn’t mad. She’s whipping up embarrassment from the depth of her soul. Just what could mortify and set her off like that?’

*****

Few days later, Frankenstein’s island

‘Just what did he do?’

The white-haired man had been asking himself ever since the lord of the island returned at last.

He did remember that Frankenstein said he would be visiting wolfkind; however, he was wondering whether he ate the Dark Spear on his way.

Because the atmosphere from the blonde human was so dark, so violent.

That was when 3rd Elder’s experience with mind games from Union kicked in, and he attempted to analyze Frankenstein’s mental state based on what he could make out of his islemate’s facial expressions.

As a result, he could identify a number of emotions: extreme irritation, fury just as extreme, remorse greater than either of the two, and, most importantly, self-hate.

Because of which, 3rd got highly conscious of his every breath and step, despite the fact that he was lodging on this island upon Frankenstein’s permission and consent.

On the other hand, unbeknownst to the scientist, he terrified that the former could have noticed his alliance with Helga.

So he ended up asking Frankenstein if there was something troubling him, ready for a lethal slap in the face.

It’s nothing.

Came a reply with a face that THERE IS DEFINITELY SOMETHING, before the speaker fled the scene.

That did not do any good to relieve 3rd Elder of his fear, but at least he was convinced that the reason behind Frankenstein’s foul mood lay not with him.

When he walked away, Frankenstein’s steps were immediate, rushed as if he never wanted to talk about it ever again.

‘That just made it more curious for me, but I guess it’s none of my business, whatever it is. What matters is that Frankenstein knows nothing about my deal. Speaking of which, looks like the recorder and tracker in me really didn’t work.’

He already knew the answer; had they worked properly, upon his return Frankenstein would have cornered him almost as if he were going for a round of a full torture.

So all in all, regardless of what had taken place with the wielder of Dark Spear, 3rd Elder could not deny that it was all good for him.

It was so good to know Helga’s promise came with a reason.

It was very good to find out her accomplice was truly talented.

‘And I’d say she’s also talented, having discovered and won over such competence, especially considering the original alliance of the said competence.’

Though Helga did relay to him the course through which her accomplice had agreed to act as an accomplice, 3rd Elder was still mystified.

‘Anyways, I’d say nobody knows about my ‘betrayal.’ Which means I should focus on my job and do it right, on the day she mentioned.’

*****

Time never stopped its magic, and at last came the day marked on everyone’s calendar.

“Haha, amen to both of you.”

Tao, who had found himself in front of computers for once, laughed at the screens hosting virtual conversation with four recipients at once.

Nonetheless, the man’s face held a hint of anxiety, and Adne somehow detected it like an X-ray.

<Mr. Tao, was it...? There’s no need to be so anxious.>

“Haha, was it that obvious? How embarrassing. And I have been calling myself an expert, with tons and variety of experience when it comes to computers.”

Tao laughed, scratching a side of his head, when Adne offered a word of comfort.

“My, I’m starting to feel small in your presence. We should be calling you the real expert.”

But I wanted to be one.

Tao blinked, wondering if he had just heard the werewolf doctor whispering.

Before he could ask if he had said something, however, Adne beamed in satisfaction.

“Aww, come on, boss! You should really stop being a proud daddy.”

Tao felt his body turning rigid as a biting voice speared his eardrums.

So did Takio and M-21, watching the scene right next to his chair.

Frankenstein’s face, lighting up an entire monitor that was assigned to him, was brimming with annoyance.

“Aww, don’t be so mean, boss. There’s no way we’re leaving you out for the grand premiere of the event.”

Said Lascrea, who had been listening like a rock until then.

Because she was standing next to Yuhyung, who decided to be the operator for Lukedonia, only part of her face was visible.

The only one who has not spoken was the doctor from KSA.

Or rather, he decided not to speak, overwhelmed by the presence of werewolves, nobles, Frankenstein, and a group of people who had shared with him blood and sweat in battles.

But of course, that did not mean KSA would be left unspoken for the duration of the event, though it was because Tao directed a word to everyone at the scene.

“So, are we all ready? Status report, please.”

<Yep! All set!>

<Uh, same here...>

<...I believe we are ready as well.>

Adne was the last to send an okay, after a bit of delay, to which Tao responded with a nod completely void of a smile.

“So, shall we begin?”

Right on cue, Yuhyung took the invisible mike from Tao.

<Now, please follow the instructions I had left for you. First, run the program I installed for you.>

Tao’s fingers danced across the keyboard, for he had fully memorized Yuhyung’s instruction manual; and Adne and KSA’s doctor followed suit.

The two humans provided feedback whenever things were lost or stuck in the middle, and they reached step by step closer to the initiation of the QuadraNet.

By then M-21, Takio, and even Lascrea were having a hard time hiding their excitement.

“Okay, we’re almost there! Just a little bit more!”

Tao’s encouragement fueled everybody to the last stage.

<Now, once this file is activated, all four servers will be linked. And like I told you a number of times, we must activate the file at the exact same moment.>

“On a count of three. One... Two...”

Three.

Four fingers stabbed the enter key in unison, and not long after they held their breath in waiting, pleasing hum of machines and blue light began their duet.

<...Well? It looks like things went okay here.>

Asked a voice from monitor connected to the KSA’s headquarter, somewhere between anticipation and concern.

<W-w-we’re okay!>

<Uh, same here...>

Came voices wild with wonder, and Tao was about to laugh in reply, when an eerie whirring noise, pitched so high and so ominous, began to bore through everyone’s ears.

The fact that it took place just when they were literally less than an inch away from completion was horrifying enough, but they had yet to realize the real horror was yet to reveal itself.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

BEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!

Monitors linking Lukedonia, KSA, and wolfkind also emitted similar noises, and soon Tao found his screens being painted with tiny numbers and alphabets one by one.

“Tao? What is it?”

“What’s going on?”

Barked Takio and M-21 in alarm; they did not define themselves as computer-friendly type, but they had enough knowledge to tell that such phenomenon takes place usually when there is a technical issue or its sort.

Not to mention Tao’s face was all they needed to see that something has gone terribly wrong.

“No, no, no...! Our server...!”

Tao yelled as he was slamming the keyboard with his entire fingers.

And right then Murphy’s Law decided to spit in their faces.

Pzzt...!

Everyone’s face blinked off as if promised, and instead the monitors were refilled with noises that made the RK’s eyes bleed just by staring.

“What the heck is going on...?!”

*****

“Tao? Mr. Jang? Doctor? Dr. Adne?”

Frankenstein was almost wailing for everyone’s name as well.

To no avail, of course.

“What is it? Just tell me what the hell it is!”

Frankenstein’s cry scattered into an echo unreciprocated, as he was clutching onto his monitor.

So he had no idea there was a pair of blue eyes watching him from his back.

‘Stage 1 is complete.’

Cause disturbance with everyone’s server the moment QuadraNet comes alive.

Therefore, make sure no one can pay attention to anything other than the sudden technical chaos, including what he and Helga will stir up in the future.

It was not an easy task, but they made it.

The 3rd Elder silently removed himself from the back of the stage, his mind winding back to the face of their accomplice, who happened to be featuring on one of Frankenstein’s monitors just a while ago.

(next chapter)

Perhaps it would feel a little rushed to bring about trouble so soon, when the previous chapter featured Frankenstein and Lunark’s first kiss, but now things will start taking the wrong turns. I mean, it’s no fun if there are no troubles or challenges in a fic lol. By the way, I started adding links on each chapter that can take you to previous/next chapter (you can find the link to previous chapter at the top, and the link to the next chapter at the bottom). I’ll add the links to all previous chapters very soon!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #noblesse #frankensteinxlunark #frankenstein #lunark #wolfsbane

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winterisakillerwrites · 4 years

Text

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

CHAPTER TWO

“So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven.

Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed…

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.”

A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy.

Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening.

Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish.

The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head.

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through.

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph.

Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet.

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.”

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Rose…”

She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.”

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled.

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

___

“Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.”

The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease.

It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately.

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task.

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos.

Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

____

“Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?”

Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her.

Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago.

Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter.

“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.”

Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.”

Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.”

“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head.

It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.”

Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?”

Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest.

She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.”

Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?”

Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.”

A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?”

He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful.

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…”

He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?”

Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she.

He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?”

Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.”

___

It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic.

Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something.

Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat.

“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door.

The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?”

Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.”

Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?”

Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.”

Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully.

“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room.

“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table.

Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully.

“So…Movie?”

Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?”

Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.”

A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

___

The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.”

Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!”

Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them.

It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?”

“Rosie?”

The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?”

“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone.

She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!”

A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point.

“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.”

Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?”

Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.”

“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant.

“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…”

She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat.

“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.”

She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?”

“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now.

In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now.”

“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?”

“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were.

“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.”

She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…”

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass.

Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #Tom Hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Rosie #Love & Great Buildings

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goodbyecringe · 4 years

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(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 7

Éponine

I kept my head down during dinner and tried to recall the day's events. It had all happened in such a blur, I was actually relieved to have seen footage of it on the Report. Unlike most other provinces, my major didn’t ask me to speak as the entire province came to see me off. He probably thought that I was illiterate. Honestly, I had never seen any of the people that stood in front of me. My only job was to go to work and come straight home and none of that left time for socialization. The closest I came to crying was when I finally found the Brouder family, standing close to the stage. Justine gave an excited wave and Victor held Mercer high in the air so I could see. I wanted to keep staring at them. I wanted to imagine that I was their daughter and that they were proud to be sending me to the selection. But I was just their housekeeper, no matter what the styling team did to me wouldn’t change the fact that I would always be the equivalent to trash in a nice dress.

The producers made me out to seem calm and charismatic as I hugged Azelma goodbye. Neither of us cried, since we had done all of that last night. She gave me a piece of red ribbon that she would use to do her hair up during special occasions. I used it to tie my hair back to secure my province’s flower, a rose. After Azelma and I parted ways I caught Justine out of the corner of my eyes.

“Éponine! I have something for you!” She called out as I motioned for the guards to let her through.

In her hands was a small necklace with a golden circular pendant. Upon further inspection, I could see the shape of a rooster.

“This necklace has been in my family for many generations. It’s tradition to give it to a woman on her wedding day, and as much as I would like to be there when you marry that prince I don’t think your parent’s would appreciate that,” she motioned over to me parents, who were waiting impatiently to give their performance.

“The rooster symbolizes vigilance and a rebellious attitude, it’s what we French do best,” she laughed, clasping it around my neck.

“I don’t think the Royal Family would appreciate a princess with a rebellious attitude.”

“No no no, chere! Rebellious meaning to be tough enough to face all the odds in this world and become their master. While you’re in that palace please don’t let the other girls know you’re afraid,” she cried, embracing me.

“Who ever said I was afraid?”

“Exactly!”

And then I was released to my parents who made a miraculous display of all sorts of emotions that were deemed unfit for the Report. The only footage of me from Allens was of me hugging Azelma and Justine. The bulk of Kyran’s commentary was from my interactions with the children at the airport in Angeles. To be honest, I didn’t know we were expected to pose for pictures and sign autographs while we walked toward the car, but when the other girls began doing it I immediately felt behind in the competition. Initially, I thought that I had seen Gavroche in the crowd, which was why I ran so recklessly through the guards. However it turned out to be a young blonde girl with short hair.

“You’re beautiful, Your Highness,” she curtsied and held out a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh well, Your Highness is a title meant for princesses, but I’m no princess,” I blushed, accepting her flowers.

“But you will be! My mommy says “That Six girl will win because the prince will pity her!” The large smile on her face showed that she obviously had no idea what her mother meant.

“Sofia! I’m sorry ma’am she must be confused,” her mother cried as she began to rattle excuses.

“Oh it’s no problem!” I smiled through my teeth at the well dressed, higher caste woman. “Your daughter is so lovely, I would love for her to be able to be a princess today! Would you allow her to walk down the red carpet with me?”

“So you can see that I’m not just some trashy Six,” I thought in my head.

I thought the mother was going to have a heart attack before she could say yes. So little Sofia and I began to walk together, waving gracefully and curtsying. As we approached children I would ask their parents if they could join our little group. By the time we reached the car there were probably a dozen young girls smiling and waving at the media. The Report showed pictures of our big group hug before they ran back to their parents.

“This incredible display of compassion shown by Miss Éponine makes a bold statement,” Kyran’s voice echoed through my head.

It was that bold statement that made me all of the other girl’s immediate enemy. The only girl that bothered to talk to me during dinner was Cosette, a delicate and ladylike Three. She traveled with me to Angeles but had sat next to another girl. I remembered her as the girl my parent’s recognized from their days scamming at the inn. If she recognized me, she must have been an incredible actress because I wouldn’t have known. But I wasn’t going to make her my enemy too. It definitely wouldn’t have helped my case if the other girls knew that I had run into the Prince on my way to watch the Report.

I must have asked my maids for a different pair of shoes at least ten times. I had spent an hour flailing around like a baby animal trying to keep my balance in the black heels I was told to wear for dinner. I even argued that with the long grey evening gown on, no one would be able to see my footwear. However, all three of them insisted that the practice would benefit me so that I wouldn’t fall on my face when I met the Prince. I had done better than I expected doing down the stairs to the first floor, but while trying to catch up with the group, I felt my shoe give way and the heel snap completely in half. I don’t know if it was the fear that I had broken a very expensive looking shoe or the adrenaline from being so far behind the group but I began to run aimlessly down the white marble hallway.

And boom, I ran into the Crown Prince of Illeá like a freight-train. I felt my heart skip a beat, but not out of love at first sight. He was gorgeous of course with his curly, golden hair and rosy cheeks. But his eyes were a fearful ice blue that showed little compassion and mercy. Although, his charming and articulate voice made up for his eyes. For a moment, I didn’t know whether or not I should’ve immediately run towards the girls. I was breaking the rules and whether running into him was an accident or not, he had the right to have me thrown out of the palace.

“Would it be considered rude for a lady to run down the hall in her bare feet?”

If I was going home I guess I was going out with a bang. And to my surprise, he smiled and returned my straightforward tone.

“I believe that would be classified as a capital offense.” I wanted to tell him that I never took him as the type to joke around but I could see the other girls moving further away and I didn’t want to risk getting caught.

And that was my first interaction with the man I was competing to marry. Thankfully he hadn’t pulled me up by my arm and yelled for the guards to put me on a plane home.

Cosette talked with me as we walked back up to our assigned rooms. I learned that she had been adopted by her father when she was young and that she didn’t remember much of anything before he found her. The Report labeled her as an early favorite because of her calm and charismatic demeanor. I thought it was ridiculous that people were gathering opinions so early in the Selection. The public didn’t know anything about us aside from how we naturally interacted with a crowd. But I knew how important the crowd's opinion was because there was no chance that the King would allow his son to marry someone hated by the entire country.

“I wonder if Prince Julien is as excited for tomorrow morning as I am,” Cosette exclaimed as we walked up the stairs.

“I’m sure he must be feeling a bit overwhelmed. I mean we all have an individual bond with him but he has to form thirty-five bonds.”

“Of course! How self centered of me,” Cosette’s eyes appeared devastated as she stopped in front of her bedroom door.

“No don’t be upset. It’s only natural that you’ve been thinking of your perspective and everything has happened so quickly today. Don’t put yourself down.”

Suddenly, Cosette had wrapped herself around me in a hug.

“You know Éponine, if I don’t win I really hope you do!” She laughed.

“Ladies, please don’t loiter. You’ll all need your beauty sleep because you have a long day ahead of you!” Claudia called out, adjusting her well ironed skirt.

I quickly walked to my room at the end of the hall. As I entered, I could see my maids stop their chores to come approach me. With one look at the broken shoes in my hand I couldn’t tell if my oldest maid, Miriam, was going to cry or yell at me.

“I’m sorry Miriam. When I was walking down the stairs my ankle rolled and the heel just snapped. They were beautiful,” I said, handing them to her.

“Yes well, I guess I’ll put together a pair of suitable flats for tomorrow, Lady Éponine,” said mumbled, unsure whether or not she should believe me.

“Are you ready for us to prepare you for bed Lady Éponine?” My smallest maid, Miriam asked with a large smile on her face.

“I really don’t need help getting ready for bed, but thank you for offering,” I waved them away as I walked toward the bathroom.

“With all due respect My Lady,” my third maid, Laila called out, “It is our job to prepare you for tomorrow and if we aren’t able to do our jobs there is no way you will look presentable.”

“Lady Éponine you must understand that you can’t do this without our help,” Mariam said.

“You know better than any other selected girl must understand how important it is for a Six to do their work,” Miriam said, putting her hand on her hip.

“Miriam, I’m sorry if me being here has offended you in some way, but I’m here. I know I’m nowhere near anyone you’ve probably worked for and you probably think that you shouldn’t even be working for me. But I’m not going anywhere anytime soon and I hope that you aren’t either,” I said, thinking about how the woman tried to help me learn how to walk in high heels for an hour straight.

Instead of lecturing me like I would have expected from a woman with her strong personality, she took me by the hand and led me towards the bathroom. I had never experienced anything like this bedtime routine. Elise undressed me while Miriam started to run the bath and Laila would ask me questions while she brushed out my hair. I caught a glimpse of myself as I stepped into the bathtub and did a double-take.

My stylist team had spent several hours making me look as close to royalty as a Six could get. Upon arrival the three of them all gasped at how much they had ahead of themselves. I was scrubbed and waxed in every possible area after one of the girls sincerely asked if my family was too poor to afford razors. The rubbed all sorts of lotions over me that made me smell sweet and painted my nails, per my request, a nude shade of nail-polish.

“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me,” I remembered saying to them.

“Of course darling,” one of the stylists sang. “You don’t want to be seen as some gold digging Six! We’ll just put some extra shine on you!” She exclaimed.

While they did that extra shine, I learned that my hair was actually a chestnut color instead of a dull brown.

“Your hair color is something that most girls would kill for! No one could get this color out of dye. We’ll just put in some long layers and do a keratin treatment,” she said, even though I didn’t know what any of those words meant.

Now I was sitting in a bathtub filled with bubbles while someone massaged my scalp. I sat there and thought about Zelma. All of the horrible possibilities piled up in my mind until I could feel a tear fall across my cheek. That was the only thing my maids didn’t ask me about. While Miriam pulled down my bed, Laila wrapped my wet hair around pieces of fabric so they would be curly in the morning.

“During training we’re taught how to use electrical appliances but I prefer this method. It saves time in the morning so you can sleep in and it doesn’t burn your hair,” she beamed, proud of herself.

“That’s great Laila,” I smiled, complimenting her. She looked so happy that I thought she was going to cry.

I thanked my maids for their help as I sat on my bed. I had never felt something more comfortable in my life. It felt like a cloud as I sank into the mattress. Elise and Laila curtsied to excuse themselves for the night while Mariam stayed behind.

“I’ll be sitting in this chair all night, so if you need anything please just let me know Lady Éponine,” she called out from across the room.

“Wait, you have to sit there and watch me sleep?” I asked sitting up.

“Yes, it’s a safety precaution.”

“Is there any other way to make sure that I’m safe? You shouldn’t have to stay up all night and then work all day tomorrow. I’m sure you don’t get paid enough for that.”

“Lady Éponine, I’ve been a maid here at the palace for nearly twelve years. If I wanted to leave for a higher paying job I would have already. I do this job because I love it and this is the closest I’ll ever be to a higher caste.”

Her reasoning had taken me aback. I realized that even though we were technically the same caste, Miriam was at the top tier of Sixes while my family was at the bottom.

“Please, post a guard outside of my door or something, but I can’t sleep with you in the room,” I said standing up.

“As you wish Lady Éponine,” she said, curtsying out of my room.

#enjonine #prince enjolras #enjolras #eponine #les miserables #fanfiction #the selection #cosette #musichetta #crossover #cross-posted #modern universe #les amis

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gladio-to-meet-you · 5 years

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Where Are You?! (ft the Chocobros and Nyx)

Here’s your angst babes, @ta-ka-shi-ma! I’m a bit mad it took me so long to get this started and finished (considering I had been working on it for a while before I replied to your ask...) but it’s done now!

As usual, let me know if any typos or grammar errors are found! It’s much appreciated and lemme know what y’all think??

It had been a normal mission, an easy in, get the intel, and get out. The only concern was that you were paired up with a Glaive member that you didn’t quite get along with. Your boyfriend didn’t think much of it, he just assured you that you were one of the best so it would be easy enough for you two to accomplish and then you’d get to be spoiled for a job well done. He knew there would be radio silence once the mission was started, so he didn’t worry when he hadn’t heard from you for a while...

Ignis

He wasn’t able to see you off on your mission due to conflicting schedules, but had sent you a text to remind you to be safe. He felt bad for being busy so early in the morning but knew you wouldn’t be bothered. You had accepted that your schedules would clash at times and just rolled with it at this point. Your response consisted of telling him to not overwork himself while you were gone and to rely on Gladio and Prompto for assistance, which had him smiling softly at his phone.

By the end of the first week, he felt something was off but dismissed it as just merely missing you. You were due back a few days ago, but he knew life hardly ever went according to plan. He kept himself busy with work and probably drank more Ebony than he would admit to. He started sleeping poorly due to his worry about you, which also played a part in his Ebony intake.

The second week saw him sleeping less and spending more time awake, worrying more than he’d like to think about. He knew, he felt it in his gut, that something was definitely wrong. Even if you were delayed in returning, it shouldn’t have taken more than a week to arrive back home to report in. He didn’t know a search party had been sent out until he came upon the paperwork for it a few days afterwards. He had managed to sign off on it and not remember it.

His stomach dropped when he read over the report detailing the finding of your partner’s wounded body and with it, no sign of you. You were going to be listed as MIA until they found your body, so they were really expecting to update your status at some point to KIA and that tore him up. That explained the looks he had been getting recently, the pity, the hesitance to say anything to him outside of simple greetings. He hadn’t listened to his gut from the start and maybe if he had, you would be back by now. He threw himself into his work in his grief, giving it 110%, so he could distract himself. In the following days, he would diligently read any papers coming from Cor’s office, making sure he missed no updates on the search for you, still not sleeping regularly.

Prompto

He was actually the one to wake you up for your mission, having been unable to sleep any longer. He even prepared breakfast and had it waiting on you so you wouldn't have to rush. He also made sure you got at least three goodbye kisses before you left, making you smile in the process. He even made sure to send you a text to be safe but speedy so you would come back on time, so you two could plan your next date night. He had nothing set in stone, knowing you may end up a bit delayed or if everything went smoothly you could even arrive home earlier.

He was eagerly waiting for the end of your assignment. When the first week came to an end, he was a bit of an anxious mess. He was so sure something had happened but his concerns were waved away, saying he was just being antsy and that you would be back soon, so he was worrying for nothing. His lip was bitten to the point it was almost raw and bloody from his constant worrying. He got pulled into training and sparring with the rest of the boys pretty frequently to distract him, which worked. Until it didn't.

It was by the time the second week was ending that sparring and training stopped distracting him. He ended up needing healed more by then that the other three were ordered to stop it, they were going to run out of potions if they kept it up. A search party was planned on the down low, trying to keep Prompto from getting his hopes up or bringing his mood down even further. But he still managed to catch brief whispers of it and so he stormed into Cor's office, demanding to be added to the party. Cor hadn't wanted to give in, but ended up doing so, assigning Nyx to stick with him and keep him from doing anything stupid or suicidal.

The party found your partner badly wounded and barely clinging to life outside the city, abandoned in a ditch. It was hard to tell if they were dumped or just happen to fall into it themselves. Nyx had to hold Prompto back from jumping down your partner’s throat for an update on your status, saying that rescuing them was more important right now because if they lived, they’d have some sort of information or an update about you. However, your partner didn’t make it back to the city and he was beyond devastated. He let out a wailing roar and turned to take him anger out on the closest object to him, which happened to be Nyx. The older Glaive member let his hit land and watched as his face crumpled and tears started falling. He waved the other members ahead to report in and to get the body to the morgue while he steered Prompto home, making sure to keep an eye on him as he was feeling partially responsible for the reaction he was dealing with.

Noctis

Like Ignis, he had been unable to see you off, but not because he was busy working. You knew he had gotten back late, so you didn’t bother to wake him up, just left a little note telling him you’d be back when it was over and to try not to overwork himself or to let himself sleep the time off he had away. He smiled softly at the note when he found it and set it back on the nightstand. He was a bit pouty since you didn’t wake him, but he pushed that aside to get ready and go about his Princely duties.

When you weren’t back by the date you had told him, his stomach seized a bit and his mood plummeted. He knew, logically, that you were probably just delayed in returning, but he had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He brushed it aside for the more logical side, knowing Ignis was probably right when he told him not to worry. Ignis was never wrong about these things, so he focused on his job, making sure to perform them to the best of his ability so you wouldn’t have cause to scold him when you were back.

He awoke at the end of the second week and felt ill, fear freezing the blood in his veins and his depression taking over. It was a chore just to get out of bed to get ready for his day. Prompto had arrived to escort him to work, since the trio was taking turns to make sure he wasn't wallowing in his fear and worry or letting his depression get the best of him. Once at his desk, and going through his papers for the day, his head darted up so he could find Ignis as soon as he read that you were being deemed as MIA, his eyes wide.

He was out of his chair and subsequently his office moments later, ignoring his friend trying to stop him. He was close to hyperventilating when he arrived at Cor's office and barged in, ignoring that there was someone already in there. Cor dismissed the Glaive member he had been talking to immediately after taking one look at Noctis. He stomped over to the desk, slamming his hands down onto it as he breathed heavily, demanding that he keep searching for you. He would accept no less than you being brought home and he would fight to see it done. You were his other half and there was a gaping hole in his life, his heart, with your absence. Without giving Cor a chance to rebut it or even reply, he turned and stormed out. That night it was a fight to get him out of his office and to go back home, his grief was starting to set in at the loss of you and his depression flared up terribly. The following days, weeks even, he didn't get out of bed for much unless Gladio was there to physically drag him from it.

Gladio

He had seen you off for your mission by giving you a tight hug and a couple kisses, telling you to come home safe. He could still see the face you had made in his mind at that statement, eyes sparkling with excitement and your lips turned up in a half smirk, half smile combination that was unique to you. You had told him that you would be back before he could fully miss you with his busy schedule. You had made the same promise before going on much more dangerous missions, so he accepted it without batting an eye.

The first week you were gone, he didn’t really have any time to miss you. He was kept busy with training some of the new Kingsglaive members for Cor and then when he wasn’t doing that, he was following Noctis around to be his bodyguard/Shield. It was only at night, in the few minutes he laid awake in bed before his exhaustion drug him to sleep that he missed you the most.

The second week passed by at a crawl for the entire Amicitia household. Iris was more inconsolable than Gladio himself was because she was attached to you as an older sister figure and she couldn’t handle you being missing. Gladio pushed his feelings aside to console his sister and try to bolster her spirits about it. He wasn’t going to accept that you were gone and he joined a scouting party to go looking for you and your partner. He shouldn’t have been allowed to join but his dad and even Noctis backed the decision so Cor had no choice but to grudgingly allow it.

He could swear his heart shattered when they found your partner’s body lying in a ditch. There were multiple stab wounds and each one cut deeper than the other, knowing you were probably just as injured! He felt a calm rage settle in him, his heart eerily calm. His blood felt like ice in his veins and his face was void of any emotions. Prompto, who had chosen to go along with the Shield, placed a hand on his arm, the blonde’s face twisting with fear and grief for his friend. The search party returned, bringing your partner’s body back for burial, and reported their findings to Cor and subsequently Regis and Clarus, who were there when they arrived. Clarus’s heart sunk for his son and he fought to keep his face impartial but whispered to Cor to keep a close eye on Gladio because he wasn’t likely to leave it at this. He took his rage out by training constantly when not guarding the Prince, withdrawing from his friends and family, and he did refuse to accept that you were just gone.

Nyx

He saw you off with a tight hug and a sweet kiss, wringing a promise to return home safely from you. He wasn’t worrying, not yet, not until more time had passed, but he was kicking himself for not asking the other member to switch with him. It would’ve been much better than being left behind and waiting for your return. Even when he was on a guard shift or had to go on his own missions, his thoughts would still drift to you and hoping everything was progressing smoothly for you.

By the time a week had passed, he was starting to worry. He could feel that something was wrong, but since your partner hadn’t returned yet to deliver any news, his concern was mostly waved away as just him missing you. Which wasn’t a lie...but he didn’t have concrete proof to back up his words.

When the second week came to an end, he knew for a fact something was wrong. This time, when he voiced his worries to Cor, he was taken seriously. A small search party was organized, with Nyx volunteering immediately. He was stared down by Cor in his office as he considered it. The only thing he was told in response was a stern “Don’t go making this a suicide mission, no matter what is found”. The search party found your partner, dead, outside the city, so you were automatically thought of as dead too.

His heart broke at the statement from Axis and he refused to believe it. He actually ended up attacking his teammate in a fit of rage. Crowe had to pull them apart and stand between them before ordering Axis to head back to report to Cor ahead of them, so she could stay with Nyx and try to calm him down, her heart breaking for her friend and for the loss of another. Cor pulled him from the mission roster, giving him time to grieve, but he didn’t take it well. He blew up at him and got suspended after his grievance period was over. He refused to accept that you were just gone like that, with no warning, no sort of sign from the Six.

#ffxv #ffxv headcannons #ffxv headcanons #ffxv reader insert #ignis scientia #ignis #ignis x reader #prompto argentum #prompto #prompto x reader #noctis lucis caelum #noctis #noctis x reader #gladiolus amicitia #ffxv gladio #gladio x reader #nyx ulric #nyx #nyx x reader

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my-creative-hell · 5 years

Text

Blind (Avengers au)

“Hey Hannah!” Iden calls from the other side of the room, Hannah automatically turning her head to look in the direction of the noise, though she obviously wouldn’t see anything.

Hannah had been blind for as long as she could remember, sight a distant memory of the past, not that that bothered her anymore. All Hannah could see were intense lights, and sometimes silhouettes thanks to that, but everything else was a mystery to her.

But she had gotten used to it, wearing steel toed and heeled boots to create noise whenever she walked, using the sound to ‘see’ the world around her in a sense. And when she was fighting or needed extra help, her ability would help her, the physical manifestations of shadows helping her navigate the world around her.

Using the sound of Iden’s voice, Hannah moves around the living room, bringing the cup of tea she had been making, the space mapped perfectly in her mind from living there so long until she knew she was beside her twin, able to feel the heat coming off of him, and able to hear him breathing.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She asks, instinctively looking down at him as she speaks, the behaviour learnt from pretending she could see so people would leave her alone in public. Plus, it made conversations much less awkward feeling.

Iden shifts on the sofa before answering, the material rustling underneath him as he picks up his own drink from the wooden table in front of him, taking a quick sip before he answers the question.

“Grave told me she had something to show you, and wants you to go into her office to see it.” Iden explains, Hannah smiling slightly. Grave was the youngest on the team, sixteen years old and already the most chaotic, albeit intelligent member. She was also the only one who didn’t know Hannah was blind; she was so good at playing the role of a sighted person.

“Ah, well I guess I’ll go see what she has in store.” Hannah jokes as she smiles at Iden, knowing he would be smiling at her as she turns on her heel, swiftly moving through the halls to the room next to Grave’s bedroom, her self-proclaimed office.

She could hear movement from inside, no doubt Grave doing something else unknown within the room, working on some new equipment or altering something she had stolen from somewhere to annoy people she didn’t like.

Hannah opens the door, stepping into the room as it swings open, and pulling it closed gently behind her. The noise Grave was making gave Hannah an exact idea of where she was in the room, Hannah moving to that spot at an even pace, not wanting to risk startling her or getting hit with who knows what.

She approaches the noise, a smile on her face as she raises her eyebrow, looking at the rough place she knew Grave’s head would be resting, very thankful for her blacked out eyes that didn’t allow you to know exactly where she was looking.

“Hey hun, what’s goin on?” Hannah asks, smiling, cocking her head as she listens to the shuffling noises Grave is making as she stops whatever it was she was doing when Hannah approached her.

Grave turns to look at her properly very nervous and excited, it showing through on her voice as she speaks, the sounds very high-pitched and elated but also slightly wavering and unsure.

“I um… I have plans for a new suit I’m working on a-and I wanted you to see it and tell me what you think!” Grave exclaims happily, though Hannah’s heart stuttered a bit. Shit. Obviously Hannah can’t fucking read, so she was going to have to bullshit.

“Oh, sure.” Hannah smiles, knowing Grave returns it as she begins to search for whatever it was she wanted to show to Hannah, setting down a sheet of paper Hannah could tell was probably almost as big as the table she set it on, the breeze being given off as it was set down being quite large.

“Here they are!” Grave exclaims, and Hannah didn’t need sight to know about the large grin that was currently on her face as she presents her work to Hannah.

Not wanting to admit to anything, Hannah does what she has been doing for years. She pretends, tilting her head down and shifting her eyes as if she was studying or reading something on the sheet. Hannah scrunches her face in confusion to add more believability to her claims as she stands up, plastering a slightly sheepish smile on her face.

“You know, reading has never been my forte, why don’t you just explain it to me, I’m sure I’d understand it better that way.” Hannah explains, smiling and hoping Grave would go along with it so she wouldn’t have to be what she feared would be a very awkward conversation with the younger girl.

She hears Grave shift and waits for her response, not wanting the awkward situation she fears to come to fruition, and thankfully, Grave rolls with it, voice excited as she speaks.

“Of course! There’s a faster reload for any shooty shooty bois, the suit is lighter so it’s easier to run, but it’s also stronger. It’s made out of a new metal I made-” Grave pauses as Hannah looks confused at that last part, pulling her eyebrows together in shock and confusion.

“Oh boy, you made a new metal?” Hannah questions, knowing Grave’s mind was mulling over how to explain her answer and contain her obvious excitement and happiness while doing it, though Hannah could clearly hear it no matter what she did.

“Yeah! It was just a thing I made out of boredom but then I realized it could be useful so…” Grave trails off, excitement evident and Hannah can feel her trying not to bounce around too much if at all, possibly not wanting to seem too childish, making Hannah smile properly, the grin lighting up her face as she speaks, voice gentle and kind.

“Well, I think that’s very cool and an excellent showcase of your intelligence, this is super amazing.” She compliments, knowing anything Grave would be creating would be an amazing marvel of technology, whether she could see it or not.

“Thank you!!!” Hannah can hear the surprised expression on her face as she speaks, clearly trying even harder not to jump around or anything that would so clearly show the happiness and excitement Hannah can feel pouring off of her, making Hannah’s grin so much more genuine.

“Of course, hun, its not problem, you know we all love everything you do.” Hannah points out, and it was the truth. Grave was the youngest, but she was a valuable member of the team and they all loved her like a family of bigger siblings, encouraging her intelligence and her knack for inventing incredible devices that had helped them out of so many sticky situations.

Hannah can hear Grave gripping onto her shirt in her excitement, the fabric being pulled upwards, Hannah pretty certain Grave was biting her shirt to stop herself jumping around, making her even happier when she hears Graves much more excited voice.

“I’m!!! Glad!!!” Grave exclaims happily, Hannah knowing the huge grin that was no doubt etched into her face as she speaks, making Hannah laugh lightly, her own happiness clear in her expressions.

“I’m very happy you are.” Hannah expresses this earnestly. Hannah and Grave were two of the closest within the group, adopting a very family like dynamic they both enjoyed, and it brightened any of Hannah’s days when Grave was having a genuinely nice time.

The tippy tapping of Grave’s shoes on the floor makes Hannah laugh now, her excitement clearly bubbling over into more physical actions Hannah could clearly make out, showing her just how happy Grave was in the best way.

“It’s lovely knowing how excited you are.” Hannah states happily as she listens to her younger counterpart tapping on the floor in her happiness, a pure sound to Hannah’s ears, ricocheting only slightly through the room, since it was pretty soundproofed due to all the equipment Grave had managed to fit in there.

“I-I’m… I’m not. I am a normal amount of happy right now. Totally fine. This is business stuff.” Grave tries to justify, only making the situation funnier to Hannah, making her laugh slightly as she jokes in response.

“Mhm, sure hun, cause you normally tap your feet and bite your shirt when you’re just happy.” Hannah raises one of her eyebrows in a questioning gesture, but the blooming grin on her face shows that there’s no bite or rudeness behind the statement at all.

“I’m not doing that!” Grave tries to defend, but Hannah can hear that her feet are still tapping on the floor, though she does hear them stop after some shuffling, meaning Grave has most likely placed one foot over the other to stop the tapping. “Okay, maybe I was-” She admits, making Hannah laugh even more internally as she can hear the defeat in her voice at being caught out by her.

“You definitely were.” Hannah deadpans the statement despite laughing inside. She slowly starts to hear tapping on the floor again as Grave’s feet move on their own, seemingly assigning Grave to her fate.

“…Okay I was.” Grave resigns herself, and Hannah can practically hear her internal sigh as her feet return to tapping, indicating that she was still overall happy and excited, making Hannah smile again.

“Thank you for admitting it.” Hannah teases, her smile twisting to be jokey as she faces Grave, who she can tell is probably pulling a small scowl in response, scrunching up her nose.

“You’re welcome.” Grave says bluntly, putting on an angry voice in an attempt to fool Hannah, though it comes off as more playful than angry, dramatic antics being a sort of second language for Grave.

“Aw, are you trying to be mad at me? That hurts my feelings.” Hannah says in a sad voice pulling a stricken face as she speaks, having years of practice at this from her twin brother and other team-mates.

“I’m sorry!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah feel bad for a second for convincing her she was upset with her.

“I’m just joking hun, you know that.” Hannah reassures, smiling at Grave as she says this, voice soft and gentle as she subconsciously tells Grave not to worry and to calm down.

“It looks very convincing though…” Grave continues, making Hannah smile and raise an eyebrow, sipping her cooled tea as she answers, the smile much more sarcastic.

“That’s because I have a brother.” She explains to Grave. She could make her twin feel bad constantly, and he knew all of her tricks and faces, and yet somehow, she would still pull; him up on it and make him believe her.

“I… good point.” Grave concedes, making Hannah laugh as she listens.

“I know, right.” She laughs, smile wide as she answers the younger teen in front of her. Having a sibling makes you a master of deception, at least, in her case it did.

“Do you want me to make you a suit? It can be customized and stuff.” Grave asks, catching Hannah off guard. She hadn’t thought about Grave asking her this. The suits Hannah wore were designed to help the tiny amount of actual sight she had left, and allow her to see her surroundings using her other senses.

“Much as I would love that, my suits are pretty specially designed to help certain things about me…” Hannah explains vaguely, not wanting to go into the details to Grave, though she fully realised today might be the day she would have to explain her blindness to the younger counterpart.

“I can make the suit like that to help you!” Grave exclaims, further shocking Hannah, making her worried as the truth was coming closer and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to face it again. Being blind didn’t bother her, but the possibility that she would be pitied for it and treated like she couldn’t do anything because of it did.

“It’s um…” Hannah laughs nervously, her words failing her as her brain tries to stop the conversation out of fear. She didn’t know why she was so worried, she was sure Grave wouldn’t care, and yet, there was a small nagging portion of her brain that said otherwise.

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me. You don’t have to.” Grave reassures and Hannah can hear her worried and concerned expression, making her laugh slightly,

“It’s not even that serious I just don’t want any pity from anyone.” Hannah explains as she laughs. Maybe she was downplaying it a little, but to her, it wasn’t serious, it was just her life.

“I mean…” Grave shrugs as she speaks, the fabric of her clothes rustling. “If it makes you feel better, I have a prosthetic arm. I understand the dumb pity you get from people.” Grave explains, making Hannah smile. Though she could never see the arm, she did always know it wasn’t flesh and bone, it sounded too different to her. No normal person would pick up on it, knowing Grave it would be a very elaborate and convincing prosthetic, but Hannah’s blindness actually aided her there.

“Oh I know, I can tell.” Hannah smiles, her voice soft and kind as she speaks, not wanting to come off as rude or sarcastic to Grave.

She can tell Grave is smiling as she hears her prosthetic make some small beeping noises, Grave clearly going it to prove her point about the arm and it was probably a fun thing to do, to be honest.

“That’s always sounded so cool.” Hannah laughs as she listens, smiling as the beeping noises fill her head somehow managing to sound as happy as Grave in their pitch and tone.

“I’m glad you like it!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah smile again with her enthusiasm that was no doubt written all over her face in a goofy smile.

“I really like it, I’ve always loved how creative it sounds.” Hannah elaborates, listening to the arm as it beeps as Grave either fiddles with it or makes it beep to make her smile more, she can’t tell.

“It’s just a song I heard that I wanted to turn into beeps.” Hannah can hear Grave shrug nonchalantly as she speaks, though her voice is still happy.

“That makes a lot of sense actually.” Hannah admits, raising an eyebrow in amusement at Grave’s statement. She was known for doing strange and amazing things, and this was no exception.

Graves tapping on the floor gets louder and Hannah can only assume she’s attempting to quiet her feet down, much to her amusement with the situation.

“You okay there?” Hannah asks in a teasing tone as she listens no doubt to Grave’s growing embarrassment as she tries to stop her feet from tapping on the floor.

“I’m fine, what are you talking about-” Grave asks as she continues to tap, amusing Hannah further as she raises her eyebrows as she speaks.

“You’re tapping hun.” Hannah reminds her cheekily before elaborating. “I can hear it.” She smiles gently as she listens.

Hannah can hear Grave presumably pushing her feet down with her hands to attempt to stop them from tapping as she speaks again, denial in her voice.

“Nope. No I’m not.” She says as Hannah grins at her, so close to bursting into laughter.

“My hearing never fails me, so don’t even lie.” She chastises in a light manner, joking with Grave about the situation.

“That wasn’t me. It was… my arm. I’m not tapping.” Grave lies, making Hannah laugh and be even more sarcastic.

“Mhm, sure hun. If you’re not tapping them I’ve also gone deaf.” She jokes, face like a disappointed mother, though they both knew that was for show and not serious at all.

“Fine…” Hannah can hear Grave pouting and it makes her laugh internally. “I was tapping.” She admits and Hannah has to stop herself from being too annoying, opting for a wide smile as she speaks.

“Thank you! My hearing continues to be my best attribute.” She laughs at the statement, which couldn’t be any more true for her as a person.

“Hhh will my feet ever shut the fuck up-” Grave complains, making Hannah laugh loudly as she tries to stop them from their excited tapping on the floor.

“I don’t know, maybe once you calm down a bit they will stop on their own.” Hannah suggests, shrugging in an unhelpful manner. Even if she wanted to help, she couldn’t see the feet to stop them, though she could probably fathom a pretty good guess of where they were.

“But um, what were you gonna say before I interrupted you?” Grave reminds Hannah as she redirects the conversation. Hannah flounders for a second as she is reminded of the truth she still had to tell the youngest member of the group. She huffs loudly, plastering a smile on her face in an attempt to lighten the news.

“Oh, um, I was gonna say that, and this is super funny. I’m kind of… blind.” Hannah admits as she looks at what is probably Grave in front of her, hoping she would have the response she wants.

“Coolio.” She hears Grave snap her fingers and loses it, laughing as she got the perfect response she was expecting from the youngest member of the ensemble.

“That was the most you response ever-” Hannah says as she laughs, wiping some brimming tears from her eyes as she does. “Just… promise not to make it weird.” Hannah pleads as she stands with Grave in the room.

“I won’t, promise.” Hannah can hear Grave smiling and it makes her smile herself, gentle and warm and full of happiness.

“Thanks.”Hann

#writing with friends #writing #my writing #original writing #sleepisafuckinglie #not my oc #others ocs #original characters #original story #avengers au #alternate universe #House of Hell

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