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knjsnoona · 3 years

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Restoration

genre: smut || slice of life pairing: jin x reader word Count: 10.1k rating: 18+ warnings: language, light dom!jin, explicit sexual descriptions, choking, fingering summary: Return to your childhood hone with your partner, Jin only to discover how much it’s changed. project: this part of the bcc summer games event~ it’s was for the image prompt which is the one under the name of the fic in the banner lol this was meant to be short, but then i included this whole first half smh credits: a HUGE thank you goes to my amazing beta reader @destructiveasparagus ! helped me find where my weaknesses lie and super incredibly helpful in how to learn from my mistakes! thank you so so much! i hope to improve with my future works!

It had been a long time since you’d been to your hometown, so long you barely recognized it as you drove in with your fiancé. Streets you once ran around on as a child—knowing each backstreet like the back of your hand—now seemed like the paths of a maze; roads that stirred distant memories of laughter and joy.

Eyes catching new shops where your favorite childhood hangouts once stood, a dull ache laced with both nostalgia and discomfort begins to stir within you. It seems the town had decided to be more modern… more suburban you guessed. It kind of made you sad if you were honest with yourself. You were expecting to return to the home you once loved, and to be bathed in the memories of each corner, shop, and alley.

Becoming more frustrated with each new sight you didn’t recognize, you sink into your seat releasing a sigh. Crossing your arms loosely over your chest, you look down at your knees. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you pondered what your neighborhood would look like. You hoped against hope that at least that small corner of your memories wouldn’t be betrayed.

“You okay?”

Catching your attention, you look to the side at your fiancé who had turned to look at you as he made a stop at a red light. His handsome features twisted into concern, which brought a small smile to your lips. Softly nodding, you try to assuage his worries.

“I’m fine, Seokjin. Just realizing how long it’s been since I was home is all,” melancholy weaving into your voice, gaze forlornly sweeping out the windows of the vehicle again.

“Changed that much, huh?” eyes still on you, every so often shuffling to make sure the street light hadn’t changed yet.

You nod, watching as a couple of teenage girls walk with some name brand iced coffees in their hands, eyes glued to their phones, as they giggled about something mundane. Feeling like a creep for staring, you shake your head and look back at the man by your side. “It’s definitely changed.... too much.”

God, you’d never identified with a boomer harder than you did at this very moment. Words of when I was kid at the tip of your tongue, wanting to rant about all the things you remembered as a kid and how it had been ruined now. You’d never regretted leaving home before, not until this moment. All of your treasured spots, destroyed by gentrification. How depressing.

But then you look at what you had gained from your departure from home and you realize how silly you’re being. You had found tons of struggle out in the world on your own. Learned what it was like to truly live in a woman’s world; having to work twice as hard for half the pay of a man; earning the way you had to always be cautious and on the lookout for dangers that lurked around every corner when the sun went down; learned how to pick yourself back up and work harder, when you were passed up on a promotion in favor of the manager’s son.

But you made it through every obstacle. You were a fighter, and never shied away from fighting to get what you wanted. To deal with the dangers of walking around at night, you took self defense classes. You quit the job that underpaid you. And when the manager at that other job finally offered you that promotion, you gave them your two weeks. You decided to take a position at a startup company that saw your worth, valued your opinions and took your ideas into consideration. A company where you were promoted and given more power to help it grow. It had grown into a multimillion-dollar business. Whose technology had been implemented in every hospital in the country. And the genius behind its creation and production sat by your side.

Kim Seokjin had been a godsend. You’d bumped into him one night at a bar after a particularly rough day of work. You had dropped into the seat beside him, not sparing a single glance his way as you ordered a beer. Shoulders slumping, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration pushing your tears back in. Noticing your distress, he reached out to you. He asked after your well being, taking you by surprise. Cautiously you spoke to him that night, only to be pleasantly surprised by his kind nature. While sharing the struggles of your days with each other, he brought up his start up and how he was looking to fill the position. Handing you a card before you both parted ways, he offered you a position without even knowing your qualifications.

Long story short, you took the position, worked your way up and fell in love with the company's CEO. Of course, there were those that always felt the need to fill the office with unnecessary drama. Hushed whispers in the break rooms, and muttered words across the cubicles of how you had slept your way to the top. But you shrugged them all off, no water off a duck’s back right? Besides, how do you sleep your way to the top of a tiny startup? There was no top or bottom. The tomfoolery of the envious, honestly.

The car jerking into motion brings you back to the present. Blinking the memories of the past decade or so out of the way. Vision returning to your present day home town, suddenly not so bothered by the changes. Your home had grown up and adapted, just as you had. That thought alone brings a smile to your face. A hand slipping over your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you completely beam as you take Jin's hand in your own ringed hand. Placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand, as you hold it tenderly in your lap, his quiet laugh filling the space in the car as you continued on your way.

Some ten minutes later, you pull up the front of your childhood home; warmth filling your chest as you notice how little it’s changed. Aside from a few cosmetic changes it was still the same. And there they were, all the memories rushing in at once. The feelings you had been anticipating finally hit you. Now you felt like you were truly home as you were surrounded by all the wonderful memories of your childhood.

A gentle hand on your lower back brings you back, you smile up at Jin who stands by your side. A reassuring smile adorns his plush lips, as he rubs small circles on your back in a show of support and affection.

“You ready?”

Taking one large lung full of air, you hold it for a couple beats before deflating and nodding up at him. The steadying warmth of his hand on your lower back fills you with all the confidence you needed as you made your way up the stone patch.

Worries of how your family would react to you being back niggling the back of your mind. You tried to keep in touch as much as you could but there were times it was almost impossible due to financial stability or work load. Damn, a small bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. So you stand frozen, finger just a few inches from the doorbell. Maybe you should’ve called before showing up.

Sensing your internal struggle, Jin wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Plush lips press to the crown of your head leaving a quick kiss. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe,” he whispers into your hair.

“How do you know? I mean- I’ve been gone so long… they have to be angry with me. What if they think I don't care?” you fret, teeth gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt, wrinkling the smooth fabric in the anxiety.

Chuckling softly, the arm around you turns you to face the tall male. Eyes roam your face, a warmth in them that always somehow seem to soothe your nerves. And sooth they did as you could feel your worries begin to ebb away.

“Hey, none of that,” he chastises, as he presses his hand lightly to your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip down. “You’re going to chew yourself raw. And we don’t want that. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips as if to soothe away any stinging there.

Your lips can’t help but spread into a smile at how he was being such a mother hen. He was always like this, not just with you but with his employees as well. It’s what made him such a good boss, and an even better partner. Lady luck was feeling extremely generous the day she led you to Jin in that quaint bar.

Returning your smile, he quickly places multiple kisses around your face—on your nose, your cheeks, and your forehead. Arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, as you giggle at the onslaught of kisses he bestowed you with. The sound of his mirth joining yours, pulling back to hold your cheeks gently. Eyes looking into your own as he assures you, “Everything is going to be fine, so stop stressing for once. We’re here to relax okay?”

Sighing, you nod with a smile still perched on your face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. And the most handsome!” all the confidence in the world seeping out of his words, smugness painting over his pretty features.

You scoff playfully, smacking his arm. “And yet you like claiming you’re humble,” shaking your head you turn back to the door and ring the doorbell without hesitation.

“Well, I’m not bragging if it’s a fact,” comes his witty retort which has your eyes rolling. This was nothing new with him, the man knew he was good looking. I mean you’d have to be blind to not think so as well. But you know, can’t let his ego inflate too big.

“I don’t know… I've seen better looking,” you shrug nonchalantly as you press the doorbell again, hoping someone was actually home. Yeah, you definitely should’ve called ahead.

“What? Where? Who is he!? Wait, are you talking about that kid in marketing? What’s his name?” he instantly barrages you with a succession of questions, jealousy bleeding into his tone. “That pretty boy with the deep voice! You-”

He’s suddenly cut off by the jingling of a handle and the lock being turned, as the door swings open. Your mother stands before you, surprise marring her features. Features that remained the same after all these years, a few wrinkles showing her age joined the painting that was your mother’s face. You’d pictured—imagined—scenarios of seeing her again, of how it would go but the feelings you felt now were far more intense than anything your mind could conjure up. .

You were sure the shock she wore was mirrored by you, as you stood there taking the other in. Your heart hammered away at your chest, pumping emotions into every vein throughout your body until it began to leak out of your eyes. As the first drop made it’s journey down your cheek, you stepped forward prompting your mother to mirror your actions, crashing into each other's arms. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so much and up until that point had been unaware that you had missed being held in the arms of your mother.

You could feel her tears seep through the shirt on your shoulder, happy greetings and words blubbered in excitement. Laughing you pull back enough to look at her, a watery smile greeting you.

“I’ve missed you, Momma,” your voice trembling with the emotions overtaking you.

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you safe and healthy. I was worried you weren’t eating well this whole time. I know how you can get, you get too involved in what you’re working on and forget to eat,” your mother rambles on, word vomit just pouring out of her. All the words she hasn’t been able to share with you now fill the space between you. As a teenager you would’ve been annoyed, but now as a grown adult you were endeared by her light nagging.

“She still does that,” Jin's voice catching both of your attention. “Not eat, I mean.”

You turn to him, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, and an incredulous look on yours. Wow, not even two minutes, and he was already selling you out to your mother. You shake your head at him, eyes trying to signal for him to stop. He simply chuckles back.

“Oh is that right?” Your mother gives you a look, before looking back at your handsome partner. “And who might this be?” Eyebrows raise in question to you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Momma, this is my, um, fiancé, Kim Seokjin. Jin this is my mother,” you awkwardly introduce them. Biting the corner of your lip as you look at your mother out of the corner of your eye.

She looks at you, surprised at your engaged status, which you hadn’t had the chance to bring up during the brief, rare calls home. You can see the message hidden in her eyes, we’ll talk about this later, before turning to Jin. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My, you’re a handsome one.”

You close your eyes and internally groan before turning to Jin pointing a cocky smile your way. He sure was annoying when he was proven right. Gloating prick.

He gives you a quick eyebrow wiggle before turning to smile at your mother. “You’re too kind, really,” acting embarrassed, as he rubs the back of his neck and bows in gratitude once more.

“Oh! And he’s modest!” your mothers cheers delightedly.

Wow, he pulled the fake modesty card. You shake your head at him as you quietly scoff, lips almost quirked in a smile, as he winks at you. He was something else. But he was your something else. He was worth it. Headaches, terrible jokes and all.

“So… is anyone else home?” you questioned, curious as to whether your father, or if any of your siblings, were around. You weren’t sure if they’d be as welcoming as your mother, but her warmth and acceptance of you returning gave you the confidence to continue forward.

Your mother nods at you excitedly, wrapping an arm around yours and moving you towards the door. Jin follows behind amused as your mother explains how one of your aunts was visiting with her family, and how a couple of your siblings were in town. She went a mile a minute, spewing out even the latest family gossip—your father’s brother had cheated on his wife, your cousin had come out of the closet after being caught mid act (“What a scandalous event that was!”) and even how your mother’s eldest sister had beat breast cancer.

You sighed happily as you let your mother lead the way, Jin flanking behind you. Man it felt good to be home.

“We got incredibly lucky,” you said loudly, as you placed a small pile of folded clothes in a drawer. Pacing back over to the suitcase on the bed, pulling out your underwear to place in the same drawer to one side.

“What?” Jin called from the room over.

“I said we got lucky!” you replied, voice louder than before.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. We‘re lucky they didn’t charge a cancellation fee at the hotel.”

Your mother, after making the rounds with the family, had insisted you stay in your old room. You were surprised that it had remained as you had left it. You were sure it would’ve been turned into a home gym by now, or a man cave for your brother that was still home. The fact that it was still intact, filled you with emotion. Your mother must have held out hope you’d come back, so when she insisted you agreed, unable to deny her request.

Of course there was the task of cancelling your hotel reservation, which everyone knows last minute cancellations come with some hefty cancellation fees. You felt bad as you had dialed the number on your cell, but Jin assured you it was fine and was worth it if you were happy.

As Jin worked on unloading the luggage, you spoke with the concierge who upon looking up the reservation, gifted you with the surprise of not incurring a late fee. You had been surprised and tried to verify the cancellation policy to which the male on the other end confirmed there would be no charge and wished you a pleasant day. You returned the sentiment as you hung up and looked at your partner in mild stupor before relaying the information to which he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, bringing in the rest of your belongings.

“You're still stuck on that?” he points out, humor ringing in his voice.

“Well, isn’t it a bit surprising to you?” you huff, cheeks puffing a bit in a pout.

“I guess…” he trails off momentarily. You could hear the gears turning before he returned with, “Maybe it’s because they saw who I was.”

“What? Why would that matter?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and could already feel your eyes preemptively rolling.

“Because, I’m the youngest, most handsome CEO in the nation.” A wheezing laugh following his words, almost sounding like windshield wipers.

Your eyes roll so hard, you see the back of your skull, and into an alternate universe. Why did you put up with him again? And as the sound of a door opening fills the space, you remember one of the reasons as he walks through the door. Towel wrapped loosely around his hips, muscles flexing as he rubbed his hair dry with another towel, he stood in all his glory. Your eyes chase drops of water running down his wet skin, swallowing hard where they disappear into the material knotted around his narrow hips.

“Sweetheart, you’re making me blush with all the ogling,” he chuckles smugly. “I get it though.”

You snap out of your daze, eyes narrowing at his cocky face in annoyance. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore him—turning back to your bag, grabbing some of your toiletries to place on the dresser. Distracted by your task you don’t notice Jin walk up behind you, until you’re tugged back into his wet torso.

“You know,” he mutters into your ear, “I haven’t forgotten that little quip from earlier.” One of his large hands slides up your body, finding its home wrapped around your jaw. He tilts your head back into his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you further into his form. “You think that kid in the office is better looking than me.”

You take a few calming breaths, body becoming alert with excitement as Jin invades your space. Every word and touch begins to stir desire within you.

“I never said that. You assumed… you know what they say about when you assume,” you can’t help but gibe, lips tugging up in a smirk.

A growl rumbles through you as the grip on your jaw tightens slightly. “Don't be a smart ass… I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no one is aware. I’m not an idiot.”

You chuckle, unable to help yourself. His jealous words turn you on more than they should.

“I can’t help it if he’s pretty to look at,” you state complacently.

“Pretty?” he chuckles at your audacity, grip tightening slightly around your jaw. Swinging your jaw away from the direction of his face, the feel of his lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. “You do look at him. Tell me, do you fantasize about him?”

Your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath traveling through your trapped body; an aching starting to pulse between your thighs. Hands moving back to rest on his towel covered thighs to help maintain balance, but more importantly to assist in feeling grounded.

“You do, don't you…?” His nose nuzzles at your ear, lips pressing behind your ear. “Is that why you stare? Because you imagine what it would be like to have him inside you?” the arm wrapped around your waist loosens, hand traveling south to the apex of your thighs.

You bite your lip, unable to answer his questions. His touch leaves trails of flames wherever they roam, burning any words from you. His words are simmering your blood.

“Is your silence an admission?” he says with a slight edge to his voice. “You imagine him sliding into you? Taking you? As if you're his?” His grip on your jaw moves to your throat, fingers wrapping deliciously around the smooth muscle and flesh.

“You’ll never be his,” he hisses. The hand between your thighs grips your core tightly, a whine escaping your lips at the slight pain and pleasure. “This,” grip tightening for emphasis, “is mine! Your cunt belongs to me. My cock will be the only one to ever claim it,” Jin growls into your ear, hips pressing his hard member into your ass.

Fuck, that was enough to ruin your underwear. His words release the floodgates, slick escaping your lower lips to soak your panties. The growl rumbling against your back, and vibrating in your ear has your mind blanking for a moment, thighs clenching involuntarily around his wrist.

“Turned on by that?” he crows, self gratification filling every word. “Do you like hearing me claim you? The affirmation that no other man will ever ruin this pretty pussy like me?”

Your breath hitches, a strong pulse running through your body like seismic activity relaying that an eruption is imminent. With the way Jin is rutting into your back, hand gently petting your mound, it was only a matter of time before he had you bursting in ecstasy.

His lips lightly trail up and down the shell of your ear, removing his hand from your throat to grip at your jaw and tilt your face up at him. Faces so close, your noses brush, breaths intermingling. He pulls back his head, looking down at you as the corner of his lip lifts in smirk just as he shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear. Long, warm fingers softly run over your lips, massaging gentle circles into them.

Licking his luscious lips, he hisses when one his fingers swipes between your lips. “Fuck,” he groans, biting his thick lip. “You’re this wet from a few words... '' A finger swirling around your opening, spreading your juices. The digit slides up to your sensitive nub, giving it the same attention. Pressing down with a bit of pressure, rolling it around making you arch your back, eyes clenching.

You feel Jin nudge your nose with his own, brushing his lips against yours. Eyes fluttering open, they meet his dark eyes, completely blow black from his arousal. Pink muscle slipping from his lips, sliding across yours teasingly while his hips slowly press against yours to get a bit of relief as your hands grip the towel resting over his flexing thighs. Your lips part, inviting his devilish tongue in, the prelude of you parting your legs for his length.

Taking the invitation, Jin shoves his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The moist muscle wrestling with yours as you kiss each other desperately. Both of you beyond the point of slow and steady when he shoves two digits into your core, his mouth trapping the groan he rips out of you. With no patience, the digits set a steady pace as his palm presses into your clit. Your hips buck at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Your lips crash against each other like waves, teeth clacking as you try to get closer.

He pulls back from the kiss provoking a whine from you. His jaw clenches as his fingers fuck into your hole, scissoring your walls, preparing you for him. You press your ass into him, feeling how hard he is, your walls quiver around his fingers.

“No more,” you moan quietly.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” he lazily grins down at you, grinding the palm of his palm down on your nub.

Your eyebrows pinch at the stimulation, lips parting without a sound escaping before you’re able to gather your senses again. “No… no more foreplay.” Your lusty gaze meets his, your chest heaving as you try to even it out. “I want you inside me now,” reaffirming how it was only him you wanted.

He pulls you into a hard kiss, pulling his hand out of your pants. Releasing your jaw, he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs. Lifting your legs to kick them off, he rotates your bodies to walk you back into the bed, nearly ripping your shirt off you. You almost fall as your legs hit the bed, ripping his lips from yours. You both gasp for air as you stare at each other for a moment.

His hand slides into your hair, scratching soothingly at your scalp before gripping it in a firm hold. Turning your face to the side, he leans in, licking a stripe up your neck to your ear. He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth teasingly tugging it. Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, he nuzzles the hair behind it, breath tickling your ear pleasurably.

“Turn around. I want you bent over this bed, with your ass in the air for me. I want to see how your cunt weeps for me.”

His words strike a hard cord within you, goosebumps appearing all over your flesh. You bite your lip, turning your body away from him and move into position. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he uses the grip on your strands to push you down further into the comforter, back completely arched now.

Strands slipping between his fingers as he removes his hand, the other palms your ass cheek, pulling it to the side to look at your core. The groan that leaves him makes you clench.

“Look how pretty… so wet and inviting. Look how your hole clenches, begging for my dick.” His other hand grabs onto the opposite cheek, pulling it away to open you even more to him. Pressing his hips to yours, he slots his length against your soaked lips. Slowly rubbing his member up and down, lubricating himself with your slick.

Every word makes you clench, the desire raging inside you growing desperate for him to fill you. Every throb of the thick shaft almost makes you delirious.

Eyes previously squeezed shut flutter open, as your hands grip the comforter. A childish print catches your attention, suddenly the realization hits you. You’re back at your childhood home, in a house full of relatives. You weren’t alone in this house, and they weren’t asleep. Now that you had awareness, you could hear them beyond the door chattering. You had let lust get away with you.

“Jin wait…” you hiss.

He stops all movement, one of hands gently petting your lower back. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” worry slipping into his words.

“No no. You didn’t hurt me. I just… I realized we’re not alone. We can’t do this here. My family is right out there,” you explain in a loud whisper, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

Silence reigns for a moment.

“So?” Jin's single word pierces the quiet.

“What?” you question, baffled by his nonchalance.

“What does that matter?” He shifts before pressing against you, the head of his cock prodding at your bud. He leans over your back, hands resting on your hips. “It doesn’t bother me, and it never has to you either. You never complain when I fuck you in my office, surrounded by all of our coworkers... our employees.”

You swallow hard.

“In fact, you love initiating it. Teasing me in front of them, riling me up.” His hips thrust, length slipping between your lower lips, cushioned comfortably between them.

“T-that’s different.” you try to argue, but his throbbing manhood against you makes it hard. “Thi-this is my family… who I haven't seen in a long time. I can’t h-have them thinking badly of me.”

He’s quiet but for a minute before wrapping a hand around your mouth. “Then you better keep quiet,” is the quick warning he hisses in your ear as he pushes his length into you.

His hand traps the sound of your yelp. Your walls stretch deliciously but sting at his abrupt intrusion as he buries himself completely. He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust, placing gentle kisses over your shoulder. His hand massages circles into your hip.

Unable to verbally notify him it was okay to move, you opt for using your hips as you push back against him. Getting the hint, his hips pull back slowly before pushing back in at the same agonizingly passive pace. Lips still pressing kisses to your soft skin, hips lazily snapping into you .

You whine, wanting more.

“Needy already,” he chuckles and places one last kiss to your flesh before standing to his full height. Both hands now resting on your hips, pulling you back so he can grind himself inside your spongy walls. “Remember, not a sound. Your family is out there.”

What a jackass, you can’t help but think as you glare back at him, that damn cocky smile on his lips. You open your mouth to retort but it quickly snaps shut as he pulls back and snaps back in. The action was so hard, you almost thought he’d speared straight into your stomach.

He slides out slowly again before plunging roughly back in. Filling you so completely, each hard impale burning pleasurably. Hands sliding to push your cheeks apart, he watches himself disappear between your folds as he sets a steady pace.

The sound of your sex gushing with each probe of his shaft makes you grow wetter. Slick running down the inside of your thighs, as he pushes it out of you, clit pulsing with each invasion.

It isn’t long before he angles his hips, in search of that spot he enjoys so much. It’s with one particular push that he finds it, as you lifted onto your toes and arched your back signaling him. A whine trapped behind teeth that bite down hard on your lips as he hits it again is all the confirmation he needs.

He sets about burrowing into you, head meeting that patch of spongy tissue over and over;building an inferno in the pit of your stomach with each visit. Your legs begin to tremble as you part your lips.

“H-harder, please,” you quietly moan, almost breathless, trying to keep your volume down.

“Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” His thrusts turn piercing. Hips smacking into yours hard, hands gripping you bruisingly hard. Over the smacks of your hips that filled the room, you can hear him groan softly with each shove. It made you clench around him, causing his hips to stutter briefly before returning to their bruising pace.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. You're soaking my thighs baby,” he groans out, smacking into you harder. “Squeezing me so tight, begging me to fuck you harder.”

A smack to your behind pulls a yelp from you. Panicking, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, hoping no one heard that. Worry niggling at you again before it’s promptly fucked right out of you by Jin's hips speeding up their brutal pace.

“I wish I could hear you baby,” he rasps, sounding just as breathless as you are. “I want to hear you moan for me… begging to cum… I want to hear you scream my name.”

You feel the bed dip beside you, as he places a foot down. Elevating his leg, he creates a new angle to spear your core. Hands finding purchase above your hips, he anchors his hold, hips pulled back.

“Remember… we don't want to get found out.”

With those words he pushes into you quickly and roughly. Each thrust drags you to and fro on the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against the material. His hips unrelenting in their assault of you. Pistoning deep, making sure to brush your g-spot with each insertion.

His actions have you crying into the comforter, as it catches and cushions your cries, groans and mantras of his name. Hands clenching the material so tight, your fingers were going numb. You wanted to fuck back into him, but his tight grip on you and his brutal pace allowed no room to.

“Fuck your so good to me. Your pussy is so perfect. So tight and warm. And it's. Only. Mine.” Accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. Laying his full claim to your core.

Fingers wrapping in your tangled strands, he guides you to stand, back leaning against his chest as the other hand grips your throat, fingers pressing down on your pressure points. The pressure fueling the fire of your impending orgasm, as the new angle only adds fuel to the already roaring wildfire.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he growls into your ear.

You hardly breath, nevermind gracing him with an answer. But as he adds pressure to your throat, you gasp out, “You.”

“That’s right,” he moans, self-satisfied, slowing his pace to grind into you slow and deep. “Mine. Only mine to ruin. Only mine to paint with my cum.”

His words hit you hard, as you clench hard around him, groaning in sync with him as waves pulse through you. You were so close, you knew he could tell as the fingers previously tangled in your hair, now pressed circles into the bundle of nerves buried in your folds.

You throw your head back, gasps of air leaving your parted lips. Your nails dig into the sweaty flesh of his thighs, hips bucking back into his. You try your hardest to not be too loud, as your face twists into nothing but pure pleasure.

You were so close, so close you were quietly pleading Jin to cum. His name becomes a prayer on your lips, that fuels his own need. The sound of his name desperately falling from your lips makes him almost feral in the way he fucks you. Plunging into you so hard and fast, that the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard through the room, the sound accompanied by the filthy sounds of your dripping arousal.

A guttural moan leaves your lips, as he pinches your bud, which he promptly cuts off by slotting his mouth over yours. Kissing you greedly, wanting to swallow every wanton sound.

The next moment, a fire spreads through your veins, as your whole body seizes at the arrival of your orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure, swallowed as promised by Jin's mouth as he kisses you sloppily. Your hips buck into his digits as they continue to stimulate your nub.

Jin’s hips continue to push through your ever tightening walls and begin to stutter in their assault, just before he pushes deep inside as you feel him paint your walls. Now it’s your turn to ingest all the sounds of his orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens, making you light headed with pleasure, as his other hand over stimulates your nub, thighs tightening to stop him.

Milking himself dry, he soon slows down and comes to a complete stop. Pulling your lips apart, a string of saliva keeps your bruised lips connected. The grip around your hips sustains your standing position, as your legs feel weak post orgasm.

Jin’s ever softening length, slips out of you making you both shiver. Gentle as he could be, he guides you to take a seat on the bed.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you at all?” He looks you over, checking for any bruises from his manhandling.

This is what made him such an amazing lover. How caring he is about his partner after making love to them. It was always so fascinating to see him turn from domineering to self-effacing. Always taking care to ask how you felt after, soothing any places he may have gone too far and holding you gently in his arms.

It simply warms your heart, as you smile up at his broad shouldered form standing before you. Placing a hand over the one he’d placed on your cheek and giving it a reassuring squeeze, you say, “I’m fine, Jin. I always am when I'm with you,”

He beams down at you just before he places a kiss lovingly on your forehead. Thumb caressing your cheek, resting his forehead against yours. A warmth radiating from his eyes as he traps you in his gaze.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the words said so simply, stomach a buzz with a storm of bees. You would never tire of hearing him say them to you, always feeling like the first time he’d confessed the depth of his feelings.

“I love you more,” you return, biting your lip giddily.

A smile reaches his eyes, as he grins widely. His cheeks puff up, giving him the look of an adorable squirrel storing acorns. His lips press to yours, no movement necessary. Just a simple press, feeling more intimate than what you had previously been engaged in.

He pulls back with a questioning look in his eyes, when he feels you shiver, almost spilling from his lips before you speak.

“Sorry, um just felt it slipping out of me,” you murmur, embarrassed, eyes not meeting his.

He chuckles, wide shoulders shaking in his mirth. Kissing you again he mutters, “You’re so cute sometimes.”

Slipping an arm around your back and one beneath your knees, he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in confusion. He ignores your inquisitive eyes, making his way to the door he’d left not long before that led to your en suite bathroom.

“I think we should take a shower.”

“You just had a shower.”

“Yes, but after working up a sweat I need another, and together we can help preserve water.”

You roll your eyes, skeptical of him. “Sure, but no funny business!”

“No promises.”

You disappear into the bathroom with you protesting and Jin laughing.

You had been back home for a couple of days, and it had been enjoyable to say the least. Getting settled in, introducing Jin to more of your family that stopped by when they heard about your return, catching up with the extended family, and even some of your friends who still lived in town.

Jin seemed happy to be able to relax, your family welcoming him completely. He had admitted to you how much he appreciated being welcomed with open arms. He loved how large your family was, and the affection they shared so easily, compared to his small family of just his parents and himself.

You knew he also loved that they ate up his terrible jokes like hotcakes. Not to mention how your mother seemed to love cooking him meals, always blushing when he praised the meals and asking for seconds. It was also obvious how much your family stroked his ego when they complimented his looks. You knew this would be bad once the time came for you to go back to your shared home, ego so inflated you weren’t sure you’d be able to fit in the car with him. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t content at how things had turned out.

You had only gone out once since arriving, taking a stroll through the new town center, hands held in his as he listened attentively to you recount tales of your childhood. Every so often you’d stop and point out a location, describing what once took up residence in the spot of a newly erected business or apartment complex. You had stayed out till the sun had begun to make its descent, ice creams in hand as you walked back to your home.

It was that same evening upon returning home to have dinner with your family—filling your family in on your adventures—that your mother informed you about the state of your favorite place growing up. Feeling your heart drop, as she described it in more detail. When you had made your way to your room afterwards, Jin had stopped you and asked you if you wanted to visit the location. After hearing your mother’s disheartening news you weren’t sure, but Jin simply encouraged you to go see it with your own eyes.

That’s how you now found yourself tripping over a root as you trekked through the small forest not far from your parent’s home. A large hand steadying you before you eat dirt, you murmur a thank you before continuing on your way. It’s not long before you reach a clearing, that only cements your mother’s words as true. Your sad eyes survey the once beautiful lake, now nothing but a public garbage disposal. The water was murky, filled with so much debris and garbage it looked like sludge. The land surrounding the water was no better. The once pristine swimming hole was now a small landfill.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you feel Jin give you a comforting squeeze. You rest your hand over his, intertwining your fingers, you sigh defeatedly, turning to bury your face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he kisses the crown of your head and lays his cheek on it. The two of you bathe in the silence, all signs of forest life now muted in the wake of the destruction of their home. You doubted anyone even still lived here, the land so completely uninhabitable.

“This place used to be so beautiful,” you muse dejectedly, laying your cheek over his heart. “So full of life…”

Jin glides his fingers through your hair, listening closely.

“As a kid, I used to think this was the secret home of a fairy kingdom. Where a kind prince ruled over his subjects with a gentle fist. Adding color, and brilliance to nature here. At least, that’s the story my mother would tell,” you regale him, hands clutching his thin shirt.

“When she would bring my siblings and I here, and the water shimmered so beautifully, she’d say it was the fairy prince welcoming us to play in his kingdom. And when we’d visit in the evening once the sun had dipped down, balls of blinking lights dancing through the cool air, she’d say they were the fairies dancing in glee at our visit.”

You could feel tears form behind your lash line, tilting your head up as to not let them fall. You feel childish speaking of fairy tales to your fiancé, growing upset to the point you’re about to cry over it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. This place was such a large part of your childhood, and if you were honest with yourself, it was the place you had been most anxious to visit. To see it destroyed to this degree broke your heart.

Sensing the dive in your emotions, Jin pulls back, taking your face in his hands, eyes roaming over your face in sympathy. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Maybe we can do something.”

You tilt your head, wondering what he could mean. Blinking up at him, wet lashes sticking together. “What do you mean?”

Placidly smiling down at you, his thumb wipes away the stray tears beneath your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could try to clean up. Try to restore it to its former glory,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping the clearing.

You stupidly blink at him, mouth slightly ajar. Your heart begins to swell with so much affection that it feels as if it could pop out of your chest. The waterworks come back full force, lips trembling with emotion.

Noticing your silence he glances back to you, eyes widening with panic, hands hovering in front of him in uncertainty. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Shaking your head, you throw your arms around him. Burrowing your face into his neck, standing on your tiptoes. “I love you so much,” you tearfully declare.

He returns your hold, lifting you up, an affectionate smile pulling at his plump lips. “What’s all this for, you big softie?” he teasingly murmurs.

“I just… I just feel so lucky to be with you.” You can’t help the emotions pouring out of you, unable to keep them inside when it comes to him. You weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve him, but you swore to whatever entity was out there that you would prove yourself worthy of him. For all the days you were gifted with being by his side, you would be the best partner possible.

“Well you are pretty blessed to look upon this handsome face every day.”

You smack his arm, body shaking with restrained laughter. “You’re incorrigible!” you exclaim, barely containing the joy glowing on your face.

Windshield wiper screeches fill the air, as he backs away from you rubbing at the spot you’d hit. His laugh was something uniquely him that always called attention. No matter whether you found it odd, or not, it always made you join him. It was a trait you found completely endearing.

Your laughs begin to quiet, a few residual chuckles escaping you. You look at each other, affection and mirth mirroring one another.

“Did you really mean it?”

He hums questioningly, raising his brows.

“About trying to clean up here?”

“Of course, I do,” he nods. “We’ve still got a few more days left here. We can go buy industrial trash bags, maybe some equipment to help us pick up the garbage, and we’ll definitely need some protection,” he continues to list off.

A smile growing on your own lips, you hug his arm, squirming against him excitedly. “Okay! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah?” he questions, amused at your behavior. You nod enthusiastically and chuckle, beginning to walk off. “Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present right?”

You agree, a pep to your step excitedly discussing the possibility of hopefully saving a part of your childhood.

“It’s so hot!” you whine, stretching your aching back as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You roll your neck, trying to loosen your tense muscles from being hunched over with the trash pick-up stick.

Since your first visit to the Fae Kingdom, which you had taken to calling it affectionately, you had spent the last few days clearing the area around the body of sludge. It was hard labor and the two of you always arrived home sorely exhausted, passing out as soon as your bodies hit the bed. On a couple of occasions, your siblings joined you carrying some of the workload.

Thanks to their help and the determination to see things through, you were actually able to now see the floor of the hidden glade. There wasn’t much trash left, so you were currently taking care of what was left while Jin was using a pool skimmer to collect the junk in the lake.

It was a particularly sunny, and humid day. The air felt incredibly thick with moisture, making it a bit harder to breathe. Not to mention how you were sweating buckets. You had both shed some layers, hating how uncomfortable it felt to have the fabric sticking to your skin.

After complaining about the heat, you toss your stick on the ground, making your way over to a small blanket you laid out to take breaks. Lowering onto your knees, you grab a bottle of water and take a generous gulp. The cool liquid soothes your rising body temperature. Capping the bottle, you roll it on your forehead, trying to cool yourself down.

Rolling back on your knees, you land with a soft thud on your behind, enjoying the shade the tall trees provided. Taking a deep breath, you release it slowly before choking on it. Coughing violently, as your eyes almost bug out of your head.

Standing about ten feet in front of you, by the edge of the water was a broad shouldered god. Muscles flexing beneath lightly sun kissed skin, beads of sweat rolling down his back, burly arms bulging with each bend as he lifts the skimmer out of the water.

How in the hell was this herculean man real?

You sigh in awe, before looking up, hands clasped together as you whisper a thank you up above.

“What are you doing?”

You jump as his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. Your eyes hastily fall on him as you reply in a high pitch, “Nothing!” Your cheeks begin to warm, staining with embarrassment.

His brows pinch, not fully believing you. Shaking his head, he turns to shake the skimmer into a large black bag. Setting it to the side, he swipes sweat off his brow. He turns and makes his way to you, pulling the work gloves off his large hands, stuffing them in the back pocket of his dark jeans. Coming to a stop at the edge of the blanket, he crouches down reaching his hand out for a drink.

Leaning back, you pull a cool bottle out of the cooler and hand it to him. You watch as he takes a large swig, before swiftly emptying the rest over his head. Brushing his hair back, his dark eyes rest on you. One corner of his plush lips pulls up at the unhidden admiration on your face.

“Come here.” He crooks a finger, signalling you closer.

You blink, lifting up and shuffling on your knees over to him. His hand locks behind your neck pulling you in to steal a kiss, lips brushing yours affectionately. One of your hands finds purchase on a burly shoulder to steady yourself. He pulls back, placing a succession of quick pecks over your pouting lips, pulling giggles out of you.

“I’m sorry. I suddenly realized I hadn't kissed the most beautiful woman today. It had to be quickly amended.”

A large grin breaks over your face at his cheesy words.

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Kim.”

His eyes flash, tongue swiping over his thick lower lip. “Am I? Does that mean I can charm you out of these?” he teases, fingers tugging at your shorts.

You swallow hard, painfully aware of the warm thrum between your thighs. Biting your lip, a protest on the tip of your tongue threatens to expose the unabashed yearning of your heat.

Before you can utter a word, his lips are yours again. The hand behind your neck pulls you closer as he leans over you. A hand on your waist guides you to lie on the blanketed ground, his knee nudging your legs apart to settle between them comfortably. He kisses you languishly, hand releasing your soft strands and sliding to your cheek as he rests his weight on the arm placed by your head. Hips grinding in lazy circles against your mound, drawing a quiet moan.

Suffice to say all thoughts of the heat are replaced by a different kind of heat as your hands slide up the plane of muscles you had been admiring not long ago. You feel every flex of his back as his hips continue their languorous movements. You bend your knees, widening the space for him invitingly.

It’s as his hand descends to take hold of your left breast that you hear something in the distance. You ignore it thinking maybe it was a rustling branch or bush. Giving your breast a squeeze, Jin spreads even more heat to your core, and just as you’re about to groan your breath hitches as the sounds are closer this time.

“Jin! Sis! Are you guys here?”

Your eyes bug open, staring into Jin's equally stunned gaze before you both spring apart. A tangle of limbs, wrestling to separate from each other. It’s when you’re finally sitting in your own personal spaces that you notice a hitch in your situation. Jin’s erection was pitching a lovely tent in his semi loose jeans. His hands covered it, a pained look on his face as he cursed. Hearing the crunch of leaves close by springs you into action just as your siblings walk out of the tree line.

“Oh there you guys are,” the oldest declares, pointing you out to the others.

You smile over at them innocently from your position between Jin's legs, back resting against his naked chest, his arms resting around your waist. You both wave at them, thanking powers at be for the humidity today helping to disguise your flushed skin.

“Oh, hey! We didn’t know you guys were coming by today.” Jin greets nonchalantly, raising an arm to wave at them.

“Well,” the youngest speaks up this time, hand rubbing the back of their neck, ”we weren’t going to but when we realized what the weather was like out, we couldn’t let you guys deal with it all alone.”

You can’t help but smile at them in appreciation. “Thank you guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“This is our waterhole, we have to help too,” your middle sibling declares, pounding a fist into their chest dramatically.

You roll your eyes as they grin at you.

“Well let’s get to it, fam!” cheers the youngest.

“We’ll join you in a moment, just taking a short break,” you inform them.

“No worries, take your time. This heat is no joke.” They wave you off as they set up their equipment and bags.

You realise a sigh, reiterating your thanks as they go about cleaning. You watch them a moment before twisting your head to the side. “You wanna get a hold on yourself now?” you hiss over your shoulder. Jin’s prominent erection poking at your back, showing no signs of deflating any time soon.

He wraps his arms around you pulling closer. “I can’t help it, not when that perfect ass keeps pushing back on me.” he whispers into your ear. “And did you know your shoulders turn me on too? They’re so perfect for grabbing onto when I fuck into you from be-”

A yelp of pain gets your sibling’s attention, heads swiveling to look over you guys. Jin folded over, hand clutching at his right side where you’d elbowed him.

“He’s got a stitch in his side from cleaning out the lake. Sorry to scare you guys,” you give as an explanation, waving off their concerned gazes. Feeling bad, your oldest sibling decides to take over lake duty, telling you guys to take your time resting.

You nod gratefully, before turning your attention back to the frustratingly handsome man behind you. “Get a hold of yourself! Or you won’t be touching me for the next week!”

He looks at you in indignation, sputtering to find a response. “You can’t do that! We leave in a few days! We can finally go back to loud unfiltered sex!”

You twist around and smack a hand over his mouth. “I’m not kidding! Get it together, my siblings are here,” your eyes blazing with intent.

He removes your hand as he clears his throat. A playful glint in his eyes before he opens his obnoxious mouth. “You know you’re hot when you’re angry?” he manages before breaking out into his signature high pitched laugh.

Face flushing in annoyance, you smack his bare arm. “Fine! Good luck hiding it on your own!” you fume, leaning forward to push yourself up.

You don’t get far, as he cages you quickly with his arms, pulling you back against him, a panicked no permeating the humid air. You huff, as you feel the wind almost knock out of you at the force he uses to pull you back into place.

“Well are you gonna behave?” an unsaid ultimatum weaved into the question.

“Ah! It’s not my fault you’re so attractive! How can you blame me like this!” he continues to whine, like a petulant child not allowed to play with their favorite toy.

The pair of you continue to bicker, as your siblings slave away in restoring the clearing. It’s not long before they grow hot, exhausted by the muggy air engulfing them. Their patience and kindness waning, complaints for you both to hurry and join them—which you promptly do, with bottles of water in hand to help them cool down. Your small group makes quick work of the left over trash, as Jin takes care of what’s left in the lake.

The sun was just beginning it’s descent, stars just barely dotting across the darkening sky, when your small rag tag group finally finished; spent bodies leaning on each other, as weary eyes surveyed your hard work. It wasn’t what it once was, but it looked damn well on its way there and you couldn’t help the happy tears that brimmed your waterline. The arm around your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze, Jin's voice filling the air thanking everyone for their hard work.

The evening chill that cools your sweat soaked layers has the small group shivering. Giving the place one last sweep, you all agree to high tail it back for much needed showers and rest.

Tomorrow would be your last full day there and you wanted to make sure of one last thing. You would be trying to find a way to purify the lake water. You had been doing research and had read about techniques aiming to bring a lake back to or closer to man-made undisturbed conditions. You had found a lake restoration company not far outside of the town. Jin had already agreed to accompany you, willing to help in any way possible as you brought it up before going to bed that night. You had happily accepted, beholden by the revival of the Fae Kingdom.

The night was comfortably warm, filled with happy chatter in the beautiful glade. Fairy lights lit the area in a soft glow as many visitors sat around the lake, eating meals they had just pulled off grills or brought with them from home. Small clusters of families or couples relaxed after a day of fun and thrills.

Somewhere someone had brought a speaker, a soft pop melody permeating the air, as you quietly sing along to it, swaying in your fiance’s arms, his own angelic voice serenading you. Your family surrounded you, their loud boisterous laughs bringing you joy and comfort.

It had been a year since your visit, a year of the lake restoration working its magic. A year of love and care for the watering hole, which was almost a mirror of its former glory. Beautiful shades of green once more filling in patches of the ground, all the colors of the rainbow blooming, giving the space vibrance and life. There were signs of life all around you as creatures began to inhabit the area once more.

But the most amazing part is being able to witness the breathtaking globes of light that dance before your eyes. Soft, blinking lights that waltz around, unbothered by the visitors. The fairies had returned, they had come back home to their kingdom.

“They’re happy.”

“Huh,” you ask dumbly, breaking out of your reverie.

“The fairies, they’re happy to see you,” he voices.

A tender smile rests on his lips when you turn to him. He remembered. The childish story you had told him. And it’s in that moment, with blinking lights reflecting around him that you come to a realization.

“You’re the fairy prince. Well, you’re my real fairy prince,” you admit quietly.

He looks down at you, eyes searching yours before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling your back flush against him.

“I guess that makes you the future princess of the Fae Kingdom.”

You cling to his arms happily, taking in the gorgeous scenery before you.

“Besides, it only makes sense that someone as good looking as me is royalty.”

“And there goes the moment,” you grumble as you leave the safe space of his arms to join your family in their merriment.

“Hey! You know it’s true!” he exclaims, chasing after you, accompanied by a squeaking laugh.

#btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #purplearmynet #bts x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts jin x reader #ksj #kim seokjin #bccsg

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foreverlostindreams · 3 years

Text

Don’t ever dump me again

Friends. That's the reason Kol invited you here, because you were ‘friends’. He seemed to be lacking any more of those, or he would not drag you out every time he wanted to go for a drink, just to be distracted by any pretty neck walking past. And while you were glad that you had moved on from being on the menu, to being an, at least right now, treasured witchy help for the Mikaelson, you could definitely go without another evening spent alone in a bar, he chose for the two of you ‘to have fun’. You didn't have fun. Who would getting basically dumped every other night? It was not the best thing for your ego, so you ordered another drink.

It was just your luck, that sitting alone at a bar like this one seemed to attracted all kinds of other lonely or wishful guests of even that bar to try their best of getting closer to you. The stool next to you was still empty, but when the bartender brought you another drink, shortly after your ordered one, you knew that was going to end very quickly. The sound of dragging wood on wood seconds later proved you right and then you saw the guy appearing in the corner of your left eye.

He was not as dubious and off-putting as the other ones you usually attracted in establishments Kol dragged you to, but you also did not get a good vibe from him right away.

A good half an hour and a few drinks later you had warmed up to him though. No supernatural about him at all, right now a fat plus on your chart and just a lot of charming talk about college and annoying friends, just what you needed. You had started college before getting sucked into all the Mikaelson mess and even though you had not liked it there a single bit, compared to some of the things you did now, hell did you miss it. He seemed to have a slight intention of getting you tipsy, based on how fast he ordered you new drinks, when yours got empty, but you knew how to handle your liquor and based on the fact, that Kol in average would take another half an hour before he would get back to get you, you were just fine with how it was.

That was before the next drink hit you very differently. Your head was spinning instantly and you could feel your balance going off. Roofies, oh for fucks sake. You stumbled off your stool trying to get away from him, but your body was not cooperating very much. When he got up as well, playing the perfect help and no word of protest that you were trying to form would leave your lips, you started to feel a slight panic creeping up. There was no witchy power protecting you from this or reversing it, definitely not while you were in this state. God, you were so stupid. The first thing you learn in College, always watch your cup and don’t take drinks from strangers. Having spent so much time with vampires and angry werewolves, you had forgotten about all those mundane dangers. You could kick yourself.

Your thoughts were racing, when you felt the cold night wind on your face. He was getting you further and further away from the back alley or whatever kind of service room Kol, aka your only chance of help and his play thing were in, to everybody else you seemed like a drunk mess, that a friend was helping. “Km” you mumbled only to try directly again, with more force “Kom'' and again “Kol!”

Thank god you were not out with Elijah, you would have never gotten his name out, even though he probably would have not let it have come to this in the first place. But ones you had managed to get the name right once, you didn't stop, repeating it like a prayer. Hoping to get through the bar and street noise like this. Annoying him like he always would with you. When you heard a car door open next to you, full on panicking now, it mobiliced all the brain capacity you could manage “Kol, help!” you nearly screamed, as your legs finally failed in those heels under you and you fell against the car door, jamming the guys hand in the progress. You could hear him swear and then smell a very familiar smell in the next air breeze.

“I said have fun, Darling, not organize presents. But I’m not complaining.” He definitely did not know, when he could be funny and when not, you determined while trying to get safely to the ground to crawl away from the danger zone your ‘nice’ college dude had maneuvered himself into. You didn’t get to crawl through, you were picked up before that. The suit sleeves covering the arms in your vision did not seem like what Kol was dressed in the last time you saw him, but the voice you had heard was his. Trying to focus was getting more and more difficult you noticed and you felt your eyes getting heavier, before you felt something wet getting pressed to your lips. The first impulse was defence, but without much effect and when the copper taste hit your tongue you gave in. Vampire blood was probably your only chance now.

When the clouds started to lift off your mind and your own legs started to support your body again you let go and looked for the guy. You’d be damned if he would get away with this, but Kol had him good and scared to death, his hand still stuck in the car door. Now that couldn’t be good. On a second thought you turned around wide eyed before you realized it was Elijah who had helped you get the drugs out of your system. Where did he come from? They had promised you, they could not read minds. “I was trying to call you, to do a spell for Klaus, but you didn’t answer, so I was going to pick you up.” he offered you an answer, before you could even ask. An oppressed scream reached your ears distracting you again.

“Don’t kill him!” you scolded Kol, trying to get closer only to realise that vampire blood might have helped, but you were not yet your balanced and stable self. “Oh come on Darling! You can not still feel sorry for him. He was not going to take you on a picnic” he shot back dramatically “I know” I hissed at him and instantly regretted it, when his grin got wider again “Oh, so you want the honor?” “No” okay, maybe a bit and you got the chance earlier than expected because the idiot really did try to make his escape in just that moment. The force with which you smashed him into the ground before he did his second step and one of the other two men made a move was entirely because of the drugs, of course.

Pinning him like this you looked back at Kol “I want you to compel him to go to the next police department, demand to speak to a female officer and confess to her about every woman he ever did this to. And about the place where he gets the drugs, if he knows about any other guy doing it. Absolutely everything” “You are no fun” Kol complained “I am in this situation, because you fucking idiot always want to have fun, drag me along and then dump me at the bar. My liver is probably going to get me in an early grave, all because of you” You went off on him and could feel Elijah's disapproving look shooting over your head at his little brother. “Are you saying, you never had fun with me?” He really seemed insulted, what did he expect? “Like I say, you always disappear and the bars you choose are not known for it’s amazing clientele, but it’s the only escape I get from the third brother in your family, that would like to see me work on something for him every waking minute of the day, so i tag along.”

“Ready to go home?” Elijah asked then and offered you his arm, like the perfect gentleman he was “Kol, you got this?” he asked in a totally different kind of voice, while leading me to the passenger seat of his car. How had you not noticed he seemingly hit the brakes and parked directly behind you and the idiots car? “We are not done talking about this Darling!” “Oh, I so am. I will not discuss anything with any of you anymore today. I will not do any spells. I will just go to bed and sleep for a day or two. Maybe wake up in a life, where mine is not so out of control” A girl could dream.

Of course, you were back at breakfast the next morning already reading the grimoire Klaus had gotten in ways you didn’t want to know anything about. He had not complained to you about the time he had lost last night, but you were sure he spent the whole time you were asleep doing it to Elijah, who had put his food down about your need to sleep, also citing that trying a difficult spell with a halfway drugged witch was not their best chance. You were also sure Kol had heard his bit about letting it get to that.

Just when thinking of the devil, he slipped into the stool to your left, looking disapproving on your cornflakes. “That was how my last evening turned from bad to catastrophic” you commented on his move without looking up from the page. “You really did not enjoy a single evening?” Was his pride honestly hurt about that aspect? “Nop” “I thought you were! I thought, that was what you wanted, a way out of this house and not see a single vampire for ones, that's what you had said'' In that moment the penny dropped in your mind. You had said that! A little over a month ago, the day after Kol had arrived back here, when Klaus had had one of his days and Elijah was not on your side the way you had wanted him to, you had stormed off slamming doors and screaming your frustration out with those words. The day after, Kol had asked you to a bar for the first time.

You looked at him, checking for signs that he might prank you, but he looked genuine. You took a deep breath “Okay, let's start again. Hi, my name is Y/N. Your family drives me insane, sometimes I need a timeout from that, but I still do not like to be dumped in shitty bars, when asked out.” Kol took your offered hand “Well then, Miss Y/N. I will remember that. Would you like to accompany me to a better bar tomorrow evening, to redeem myself as good company?” “That sound not bad at all” He grinned back at you and then got up. “By the way darling, I would not eat that, it smells bad.” “Shut up Kol, better be worried, if you ever dump me again!” You could hear his laugh, even when he left the room.

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #witch reader #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals imagine

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after-witch · 4 years

Text

A Private Cell (Yandere FF7 Reno x Reader)

Title: A Private Cell (Yandere Reno x Reader)

Synopsis: @damtoti said: Can I request FF7 Reno with reader as his prisoner?

Word Count: 1600ish

notes: yandere, violence

The handcuffs bite into your wrists so tightly that you think you’re losing feeling in your hands. You can't tell if they lack circulation or if the tingling feeling is just a by-product of your hands being tightly kept behind your back for hours and hours. There's no mirror in whatever room he dragged you into, but you know there's a bruise blooming on your jaw. You can still move it, so it's not broken, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell.

You've never been arrested before. You never even got in trouble at school. Though, you realize, you weren't exactly arrested. You weren't taken into custody during daylight hours by officials who escorted you into a precinct or tossed you in a jail cell stuffed with offenders.

You were grabbed after you locked up the shop, after you stepped into the alley on the way home. You struggled and screamed at your attacker, all flashes of red and white and black, but a good sucker punch and a bag over your head took care of things as your vision went fuzzy and finally black.

The next thing you remember, well: you're here. Sitting on a wobbly metal chair with your hands tightly cuffed behind your back. The room is dimly lit by overhead lights and the only thing remarkable about it are the occasional dots of rusty looking stains that make you shiver.

You don't contemplate these stains for much longer, because the metal door to the room screeches open and in saunters the man who punched you in the jaw. His vibrant red hair stands out even in the dim light of the room, but it's his clothing that stands out the most. It looks... expensive. Not flashy-expensive, not gold chains and black market furs, but tailored. Professional. It makes your stomach twist into knots. You've heard of... special forces, before, of groups that do the dirty work for Shinra and do it very well. You don't know if he's part of that, but he's part of something. What the hell does something like this want with you, of all people?

He grabs a chair from the corner and pulls it--the scraping of metal-on-concrete has never been so loud--until it's a few feet away from you. He flips it around and sits himself down, leaning his elbow casually on the back of the chair.

"Hope you're comfy." It's sarcasm, but the way he says it so conversationally makes you wish you could throw a punch. "Let's get this out of the way. You're... you. You're (Y/N). I'm Reno, and that's all you need to know for now."

You lick your lips, dry from the cold air, and start to ask a question--How do you know my name?--but he raises a partially gloved hand to silence you.

"Up-up, I'll do the talkin' for now. Lemme be straight with you, (Y/N), because I don't have time for games and I can tell you’re a real honest person, right? Fess up, and I'll put in a good word for ya. Be stubborn and, well." He scratches his chin and shrugs, as if he really doesn't want to consider the idea of you being "stubborn," whatever that meant. “Best to be honest.”

He rests his chin back in his hands and stares at you. You don’t like his gaze. You don’t like the way his gaze seems... familiar, like he’s seen you before and knows what you might say.

But he just keeps staring and it’s your turn to talk, you guess.

"I..." your voice is unavoidably scratchy, and you do your best to clear it before you continue. "I don't understand what's going on. I didn't do anything."

He stares at you. And then he yawns. Slow, deliberate and annoyingly condescending.

"Yeah yeah, I've heard that one before." He shakes his head and the acting is so good that you might almost believe that he feels sorry for you. "I'm offerin' you a great deal here, (Y/N). We don't usually do that, y'know?"

You can feel tears beginning to well up. Your hands are buzzing in numb, brittle pain and even the slightest shift of your wrist sends bolts of sharp pain up to your elbows. You’re in way over your head, and you don’t even know why.

"Listen, Reno," you say his name, then wonder if you should have said it from the way his face seems to animate at your words. Whether or not he's mad or surprised is difficult to gauge, and you don't have the mental energy to try. "I swear I don't know what you think I did. I'm not... I'm not that type of person, I don't get into trouble like this."

He stands up and in a swift sudden movement, pivots the chair around. The noise makes you jerk and you can only stare as he pulls the chair closer, this time leaning in towards you. It's an uncomfortable mixture of intimate and intimidating, and he seems to know it. He has a soft smile on his face, almost friendly, almost kind. He wants you to trust him so badly.

"The boss doesn't have me pick up randos for no reason. C'mon, just own up to it, and this'll be over soon." He opens his arms up, a placating gesture. You stare at his hands, palm-up, and wonder if he's killed people with them. If he'll kill you.

When you don't speak up--you can't, you reason, you really can't when you have nothing to confess--he sighs, languid and deceptively mundane. He pulls something out of his pocket and whips it to the side. It's a baton. You imagine him bashing it into your skull and your heart starts to race. He presses a button, and it sizzles. Ah, it's a taser, too. You don't have experience with being electrocuted but that doesn't stop your entire body from trembling. Pain shoots up your elbows as your wrists shake of their own volition.

He steps closer, and you wince instinctively and all you can think about is how much this is going to hurt. He presses that button again but before he can swing, you cry out: "Wait! Wait!"

He pauses. Mercifully. The crackling electricity is gone as he slings the baton, resting it on his shoulder. He raises his eyebrows. Well?

You feel your shoulders slump. You have to tell him something. Something that will make him think you're admitting... whatever it is they think you did. They must have the wrong person. You can sort that out later, though, when you're not being threatened with a weapon and an electrical current.

"I--I sometimes sell things." He stares. You continue. "I mean, I sometimes sell things... under the table? Things I shouldn't be selling?"

He slowly sits himself back down on the chair and it's all you can do not to cry in relief. He resumes a casual stance that would feel less intimidating if you weren’t tied up and fighting back tears.

"Tell me more, (Y/N). Who do you sell to?"

You are a terrible liar. You know this, and he might be able to see it. So you half-close your eyes and glance to the side and try your best to look ashamed.

"They... said they work out of Wall Market."

"Ohh." Reno lifts his chin back a little, as if he's realized what type of person you are and what you do, and now you feel real shame heating your cheeks. You would never associate with Wall Market, not if you could help it. You were luckier than most to be able to avoid blackmail and seedy deals.

"So," he says, leaning forward with determination. "Tell me their name."

You freeze. You don't have a name to give. You can't give a fake name. And you can't give a real name, either, because then you'll be implicated and if it ever got back to the real person, you can bet they won't be merciful for you ratting them out. Especially ratting them out for a fake black market transaction that never happened.

"I..." You swallow. Your throat feels prickly. “I can’t say.”

Wrong answer, you think. Wrong wrong answer. He shakes his head and tuts and slaps a hand on his thigh before standing up. He towers over you and you brace yourself for the baton and the electricity and wonder if you should just shout out a name before he can get a good whack at you.

Instead, he walks behind you and fiddles with your too-tight handcuffs. They fall off your wrists and their sudden loss returns the circulation with an agonizing rush. You cry out and he begins massaging your tortured wrists. The gesture feels strangely intimate and you can’t help but think of his baton and the taser and the bruise on your jaw.

"Yeah, that'll happen if they’re on too long." You don't have time to think of a reply before he continues, still softly massaging your aching wrists. "Tell you what. We'll continue our little... discussion tomorrow, yeah? And in the meantime.."

He tightens a different pair of cuffs around your wrists. They're snug and firm but lined with something that keeps them from making you wince, at least.

"I don't trust these other guys to be alone with a... pretty thing like you, y'know? I took you in, so I’m responsible for you until you ‘fess up everything."

He pushes you forward as the metal door is opened from the outside. You glance at the guards on either side of the door, but you know they wouldn’t help you. Especially when you’re flanked by someone who is probably their superior.

“Where… are we going?” You ask. Your voice echoes a little in the poorly lit hallway, muffled by two pairs of footsteps as you’re shuffled along, an unwilling prisoner.

“Told ya,” he says, winding one of his arms around your bound elbows and tugging you closer to his back. “You’re in my custody now.”

#yandere #reno x reader #yandere final fantasy #ff7 reno #afterwitch writes #spoiler: the boss did not order this #double spoiler: you're screwed

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daydream-believin · 3 years

Text

What About the Smaller Picture (3)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (3) You’ve adjusted to Arcadian life pretty well. (1) or (4)

Warnings: Swearing, sleep problems?

Word count: 2474

A/n: sorry this wasnt out sooner I’ve had a week

The curtains were blue. They had a little pattern of navy and white flowers and curvy lines like pottery painted with indigo. You had moved one of Doux’s bookshelves to be the second wall to allow the curtain rod to even be in place. This layout effectively created a nook of sorts around your little bed. To be frank the curtains weren’t absolutely necessary. The space kinda gave you university dorm vibes with the two twin beds across from each other. But there was no way you were letting this guy you barely knew watch you sleep. Even if you were good friends, you wouldn’t let him watch you sleep. That kind of vulnerability was special, reserved for only those closest to you.

Speaking of closeness, Douxie had been very adamant about you not calling him by his full name anymore. Made him feel like you were reprimanding him, he said. You could relate to the feeling, and so you were now being careful to replace all ‘Hisirdoux’s with ‘Douxie’s in your head. Or at least a ‘Doux’. Not ‘Babe’. Who told you that. You definitely never referred to him as Babe in your mind. Nope. That Is Not Something Friends Do.

“And,” Douxie rubbed the back of his neck, “Normally when people call me Hisirdoux nowadays it’s because they want to kill me. Only strangers and enemies call me that. Or Zoe when she’s pissed. So yeah, just Douxie is fine.”

“Just Douxie?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” You looked up at him with a smile.

“Douxie.” He flushed, nodding. “Well, Douxie, what do you want for dinner tonight.”

That little nook you’d built hadn’t stopped Douxie from trying to talk to you all night, however. You’d think the curtains would be a clear message of don’t talk to me I want to be left alone but Doux hadn’t really taken that hint. You tried your best to brush him off the first few nights, even pretending to fall asleep. It didn’t stop him. By the fourth night you spent in Arcadia, you gave in. You had trouble sleeping anyways, as it was apparent so did your roommate, so might as well indulge him. It’s not like ignoring him did any good. Instead of staring at a blue-light screen that messed with your circadian rhythm, you talked about nonsense with Doux. And it was good nonsense. He was way too funny. Or maybe it’s that thing where if you’re into someone then everything they say is hilarious. You’ll never know. But it was nice, either way.

The funny thing was that not only did you actually start to like this, but now it was becoming hard to sleep without it. He helped. Your whole life you stayed up late, and then tossed and turned all night anyways. Now your bedtime routine was talk to Douxie for a few hours, slowly falling asleep, and then you’d sleep the whole night through like a baby. No more restlessness. No more waking up over and over again. Even if you did, you could just listen to him snore for a bit and fall right back to sleep. You guessed it was the feeling of safety he provided. Like someone was watching over you, even when you were at your most vulnerable. You’d never really had that luxury before.

You had started noticing the trouble coming back when he would stay out late sometimes. And Douxie was gone one night and you suddenly couldn’t sleep at all. This was bad. A problem, if you will. But no matter. There were more pressing things to worry about.

Like the fact that all week, Douxie had been hinting that he had something you two were going to do soon. He would not tell you what it was. In fact he was taking quite a bit of joy in dangling this “surprise” in front of your face but not telling you anything about it. It was driving you a little crazy. You hoped what he had planned was nothing too wild, though. It’s not that you weren’t down, you were just tired. But you could use a little shaking up. This bookshop existence was boring. You weren’t boring. You had enough crazy stories to last an immortal lifetime from growing up in New Jersey. Not just modern-day Urban New Jersey. Early colonial Quaker-dominated New Jersey was wild too. Especially as one of those infamous New England witches. Maybe Douxie was taking you on some magic errand. That would be great, you were dying to do something actually in your job description ever since you got here. Not that working in the bookshop wasn’t nice, it just wasn’t magic. You were craving magic.

But alas, as the sun was setting and the last patrons left the store, life moved on as mundanely usual. You flipped over the sign, scratched a sunbeam bathing Archie behind the ears, and started the process of re-shelving all the damn books that customers left strown about. The sunset turned the bookshop pink. There were fewer cars rushing by. Now that there were no customers, it was very peaceful. Just you, Archie’s snoring, and the soft lute music playing. The music was lute covers of popular songs, and at this point you were pretty sure it was Douxie himself who recorded this shit.

Speaking of Douxie, you hadn’t seen him all day. It had made working the bookshop extra extra boring. Like if he wanted you to be free labor, he could at least give you the decency of his lovely presence. But no, it was just you, all day long. All by your lonesome, with nary a cute theater-kid adjacent wizard to keep you entertained with his company. It was a travesty really. But anyways, where was he. Better not be having fun without you.

You like to think your thoughts summoned him. He came in through the back door, panting, disheveled. Singed? He frantically looked out the door’s window into the alleyway from which he had just came from, looking for something. Whatever it was, he must have seen it, since he looked panic-stricken. In a painfully obvious attempt to swallow the fear, he turned to you, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“SO. You know that thing? The surprise? Well. It is here a little sooner than I expected it to bE—” A loud crashing noise came from the alleyway. “Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

You dropped the book in your hand. “WHAT DID YOU DO.”

There was another very loud crash, this time closer. Douxie glanced back for less than a moment before rushing over to you, taking you hand.

“I’ll just have to tell you on the way love, come on!”

You two fled out the front door of the shop like your tails were on fire. Speaking of tails on fire, once you rounded the shop to the alleyway, you found out just what Douxie had been running from that was making such loud noises. Hellheetis. Five large hellheetis. Blazing bright in the Arcadian dusk. How the neighbors haven’t already called the cops or the fire department was a mystery. The large lion-like creatures growled, stalking down the alley. It was only a matter of seconds before they smelled and or spotted you and went back into the chase. You had to make a plan and fast. Distracting you from your thoughts, Douxie nervously laughed beside you.

“hehe, uh, could you believe there was only one of these at the start?”

You slowly turned to the wizard, “Did you,, hit them, Hisirdoux?” You could call him that now because you were in fact pissed off at the moment.

“Only twice.”

“Only twice… Okay”

“I may not be the best at monster identification. Or remembering which tactic to use for which.”

“I can see that.” You tried to keep your voice as calm as you could, which got a little easier to do as the hellheetis turned down a different alleyway, putting some more distance between them and you. They were still searching though, that was apparent. Thankfully the stench of the alley trash was keeping you covered.

“Believe me, Archie gets onto me about this all the time.”

“It’s okay… just. I think I have a plan. But one of us has to be bait. And it’s going to be you.”

“That’s fair.”

You sprinted up the stairs of the bookstore and up through the ceiling hatch onto the rooftop. You first instinct was to get them to the center of the square, where you could use the fountain as a water source. The alley they had started going down opened up to the square anyhow. It would have been a straight shot. But dear Mr. Casperan made a fuss about that being too out in the open or whatever.

Next solution. The bookstore’s rooftop had a facet, Douxie told you. You’d like to imagine it was put there so some nice old lady could have had a sweet rooftop garden without too much hassle. Maybe you should start a sweet rooftop garden. You and Douxie could have a little oasis in the city up here. You could grow veggies and flowers for your table. Maybe make a cute little picnic area. Stargaze at night. The facet. You quickly found it and made work of turning it on. Or at least you tried your best. You could hear roaring, getting louder, getting closer. The scary growls and roars were punctuated by Douxie’s frantic footsteps, grunts, and gasps. Please don’t get eaten, Douxie.

The facet was so rusty, it took all of your strength to get it to budge. And then nothing came out really, the hose attached to it lifeless without so much as a trickle. You tried to unscrew it from the facet to see if there was a problem and the metal part of the hose disintegrated in your hand. Okay. No water was in fact coming out of that facet.

Imaginary sirens rang in your ears. You had to get water, fast, or your partner was gonna be kit & kadouxle. Hellheeti chow. Growl mix. Douxies. Fiery feast. The big cats were gonna eat him okay. After managing to get the facet turned as fast as you could, fueled on pure adrenaline, and still getting little to no water, you made a judgement call of fuck that. Magic time. To be completely frank here that should have been what you had done in the fucking first place, but hey, fear dulls the mind.

Gathering up as much water as you could, like, metaphorically feel in the pipe, you pulled that shit out with all your might. Aaaannddd because of this you may have not actually remembered that you would need to catch said water in order to, you know, use it. Instead of a nice bubble to be used at your discretion, a magic roof-water tidal wave washed over you and over the side of the building into the alley below. Thank your lucky fucking stars that Douxie just so happened to have gotten the fire felines to the right spot in time. The uncontrollable rain rushed down, dissipating the hellheetis, soaking Douxie darling, and flooding not only your alley but all the alleys connected to it. Holy shit, stop it! STOP IT! It took a second, but you did finally get the river to stop pouring out of your rooftop. Fingers crossed there were no basement windows open and all your neighbors had flood insurance. And that no one saw. Can’t be connected to you if no one saw right. Shhhhhh.

You peered over the ledge to see if Douxie was alright down below. He looked like a cat caught in the rain himself. You probably did too. Douxie’s soaked bangs covered his eyes. Nevertheless, he was able to see you up on the ledge and gave you a thumbs up. You awkwardly returned it.

Toweling off your hair, and now in nice dry pajamas, you walked out of the bathroom to join Douxie on the couch. His own hair towel hung around his shoulders. You took a moment to enjoy how cute he looked all ready for bed, cozy in the blankets on the couch. And that semi-wet hair was looking pretty nice too. You only allowed yourself to linger on this for that moment however, as you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him right now. You crossed your arms as you approached the wizard.

“SO, dearest Hisirdoux, may I have the decency of getting to ask the question, WHY.”

“Funny story really.”

“Really?” You raised a brow

“Really.”

Douxie fidgeted with his hands. You watched this little nervous gesture intently as you sat down next to him. He took a deep breath before beginning,

“First thing. You’ve been here for some time now, and I thought it was enough time for me to start sharing my little, er, excursions with you,” Douxie’s face flushed a little, “I like monster hunting, and now that I know that I like you, I thought I’d like it more if I brought you along with me?”

Your face was flushed a little too now. “Hey, stop it, I need to be mad at you.” Yeah well the smile you wore gave up any pretense of that. Sorry.

“I didn’t know how familiar you were with monsters or how skilled at fighting you were, so I decided to go get some test monsters from Mervin the Monster Dealer, just to make sure our first time would be safe. FIRST TIME MONSTER HUNTING TOGETHER.”

You stifled a chuckle. “And you didn’t just ask me?”

“It was supposed to be a cool surprise okay.” He buried his face in his hands.

“… Hellheetis?” Safe monster your ass.

“Yes, I mean no, I- Mervin sold me the wrong thing alright. I thought I was buying those cute little fire sprite things you can easily just put out with your boot.”

This time you did not hold back that laughter. And you laughed, and Douxie laughed, and soon both of you were uncontrollably cackling until you were out of breath. Archie came in to see what the commotion was about and then promptly turned back around to go back to his spot in the window. You clutched your chest, still cracking up despite the lack of oxygen. Douxie wiped some tears from his eyes you were sure hoping were just from laughing too hard. You rubbed a hand on his back.

“So, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. How bout movie night?”

Douxie’s tired eyes smiled at you, “Yeah, I think that would be lovely.”

“Hey, I had a good first monster hunt, Douxie. Thank you,” You pulled your cold feet up under your legs, “But could you stop hogging the blankets!”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #Douxie Casperan x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #my writing #watsp

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capochinootea · 3 years

Text

How the Shishigumi met Baby Louis

Me thinks Baby Louis and Shishigumi wholesome time ^-^

Free

When Free first met Louis, it was in the middle of a shootout. He was 17. Young, brash and bold. A few weeks into the Shishigumi, and he's already considered an elite, impressing those who have climbed the ranks for longer.

It was an unfortunate time when Free was met face-to-face with a child, a herbivore child, no less. Guns drawn, ready to fire at their leader’s command. In all Free’s years of living in the Back Alley Market, this is by far, the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened.

Members of the gang yelled for back up. He was ready. Ready to take on their opponents, but what he sees is a much taller, more mature lion- Ibuki, he realizes, blocking his way, hands extended.

...What?

Confused and slightly irritated, he was handed a child and the lion left to help his comrades. Poor and confused 17-year old Free sat there, as the fawn- aged 6- he guessed- giggled at him, oblivious to the danger they’re both in.

---

Ibuki

Livestock. Ibuki never fancied the business. Even for a gangster lion like him, selling livestock- he thinks of it so immoral. You must be completely fucked down to the core if the mafioso lion has more heart than you.

When news travelled to the Shishigumi of a livestock trafficking ring not having paid their share, Ibuki breathed a sigh of relief. An excuse, he thought.

Finally.

But when he got there, it was like a place after war. It smelled of filth, abandon and decay. The building barely stands, it’s pillars a breath away from collapse.

In it lay a single fawn, blood stained but alive. A living, breathing being surrounded by death, of carcasses and corpses. The fawn looked as though he was the god of death himself, mortalized in a fragile being, cursed to wander the earth, leaving death in his footsteps.

---

Dolph

For a lion who’s lived in the market for more than 2 decades, he thought he had seen it all- the mundane, the gruesome, the ridiculous. Hell, the Shishigumi is proof of that. But somehow, not even the pole dancing mice could top this.Standing there, by the mansion’s gates was Ibuki, a sleeping fawn in his arms, bundled in his suit jacket. If he were any more shocked, his jaw might have hit the ground.

Surely the trip to the livestock trafficking ring didn’t hit Ibuki’s head. If not, then that’s probably not Ibuki at all. He was pretty damned sure that if anyone in the Shishigumi were to replace the old chief (should his ultimate demise were to ever happen- he hoped soon), it would be Ibuki.

Yet he stands there, a soft look in his eyes, the happiest he looked since he joined. He can’t help but feel dumb. The market is just full of surprises.

---

Hino

It was Wednesday night. The mansion silent and empty, its corridors barely illuminated by the hanging low light above . Almost all of the lions had left for the night, sans a few lower goons keeping watch over the gates. Sitting by the hideout’s make-shift home bar, nothing felt out of the ordinary.

He cradled the cheap whiskey in his hands and circled the drink slowly. He watched the drink as it created a mini whirlpool, his reflection on the glass.

His brows furrowed in confusion. Something was amiss. This isn’t right.

His tail moved back and forth, fur standing, mind on edge. Someone foreign was in the mansion. He continued to watch his reflection, but there was no sign of the intruder.

Too late did he realize, as a creature suddenly latched onto his leg. He would've kicked the stranger out of instinct, but when he caught a glimpse of wide ears flinching, the smell of lion on him, all sense of dread died.

Looking down, he sees a fawn, toothily grinning at him, hugging his legs like they were pillows.

“What are you doing here little guy?” Hino crouches, hands folded so as to not hurt the tiny creature.

The fawn giggled, clutching his face in his mini hands. They’re warm, he noted. .

“Mr. Lion!!” He cackled.

And like a child calling for its mother, Ibuki came running up the stairs, his glasses out of place, strands of his mane flying everywhere. He looked like hell.

“Louis!” he called and bolted right after where he sat.

Such a strange sight to see. A huge lion cradling a fawn, no bigger than Ibuki’s hands. A smile found its way to Hino’s flawless features. It’s a beautiful Wednesday night.

---

Sabu

He’s getting old, he realizes. His mane is getting harder to grow, his joints more prone to aches. He wonders if growing old is a gift, with what dangers lurking in the Back Alley Market. You’re lucky if you still have all your limbs intact by the age of 30.

Sitting by the kitchen counter, he closes his eyes. Ah, well it’s not like he could complain. In fact, he’s lucky to be alive, limbs and all.

“Up!”

He cracks one eye open.

..What?

“Up! Up!” Standing there, a creature unlike him. A fawn. No older than 6 he thinks. Clutching what he assumes is a stuffed animal, a small pout laced its face.

He had so many questions.

“Up! Up!!!” The fawn demanded, now running around, making soft tap tap taps against the floors of the mansion.

How youthful, he thought, picking up the child, giggling as his arms wrap around its tiny waist.

“Funny lion man!” it cackles, now trying to climb his head, to touch his mane. He assumes his mohawk is a different sight from what the fawn usually sees.

He still has so many questions.

He let the fawn play with his mane, not minding the strands that now fall against his face, covering his eyes.

“Ibuki!!” the tiny fawn suddenly shrieked, hurriedly trying to climb down from his now lopsided mane. He watches the young fawn dash to the other, who caught him as he propelled himself in the air.

How youthful, he thought again.

---

Miguel

It’s not like he’s not used to the fearful looks most herbivores and even the lesser carnivores give him. He’s big, brawny, a lion through and through. A literal king of the beast. To say he was used to the wary stares, the jealous glares, is the simple truth.

His footsteps alone are enough to spook a sheep down to its very core. He need not speak to intimidate a room full of hyenas, no. Even baring his fangs would be too much.

Which is why he found this whole ordeal completely and utterly ridiculous.

A tiny fawn stood before him, staring up at him. Fearless, he thinks. No! He was awestruck… mouth agape and ears perked up. He looked at him like he’s something to behold.

“Big Lion Man!!!” it cackles.

Odd..

It was so odd.

He felt his heart swell beneath the hard muscle, beneath tendons, flesh and bones. Never before has a creature looked at him with such delight. From a herbivore no less.

---

Jinma and Dope

If there’s any duo more suited to work together in the Shishigumi, the title befalls on one Jinma and Dope. Another successful negotiation. Another night of festivities.

Tonight, the table was decorated with an assortment of meals, meat cooked to perfection. A flawless buffet. An impeccable occasion.

Until Jinma caught a glimpse of movement beneath the table covers. An intruder? A spy? That’s impossible. It just is. He knows no one would have balls big enough to go alone in the Shishigumi headquarters unscathed.

He eyed the table covers with great intensity. He squints, watching the creases of the fabric, waiting to see any sign of movement. Nothing. Not until a foreign tiny hand slipped under the covers to grab a lone piece of meat sat atop the table.

In an instant, he lifted the white sheet, uncovering the thief hidden below the covers. He expected a young lowly canine, or mayhaps a racoon, only to find a giggling fawn munching on the small piece of meat he’s stolen.

“The fuck..” he heard someone mutter behind him. Dope, he thinks.

“Hello!” The young deer greeted, mouth full of meat.

This is weird.

Jinma watches as the fawn finally moves to unveil himself out of the white sheets, walking towards Dolph, who picks him up like it was something he’d done before.

This is so weird.

The two lions watch with their heads tilted to the side. Confused, they see Dolph smile at the tiny fawn he was cradling, who was still chewing the meat he’d stolen.

“The fuck” Jinma mutters.

---

Agata

“What??” Agata squawked, hands balled into a fist. How could they do this? To a lion, barely the age of 16.

“I.. I can’t! I’m not sure how to?” he countered, looking anywhere but the scene before him.

A child, clinging to the cuffs of Ibuki’s suit jacket. A fawn, 9 or 10 years old- by the looks of it.

“Agata, it will only be for an hour or two,” Dolph explained.

Like that’s going to change anything.

“But! Dolph-san, why? We don’t even know who this kid is? I mean.. Why can’t we just give him back to his parents?” He blurted.. The words left his mouth before he could process what he had just said. He prayed to whichever gods listening to him to please not make him babysit a child- and a herbivore child too!

Ibuki furrows his brows, before sharing a look with Dolph, who looks as equally as upset. A beat, and then,

“Louis stays with the Shishigumi,” Ibuki stated, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can’t be serious!” Agata whined, his arms flailing. It was a fight he couldn’t win. He frowned.

It didn’t take Agata more than a second to realize that his outburst had caused Louis to hide more behind Ibuki, his teeth bared, eyes burning with passionate hate.

Ah... He really did not like babysitting.

#beastars #shishigumi #beastars free #beastars ibuki #beastars dolph #beastars hino #beastars sabu #beastars miguel #beastars jinma #beastars dope #beastars agata #beatstars headcanon #shishigumi headcanons #my heart #i cant #i love them so much

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thisisgonnafuxkinkillme · 4 years

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Save Me, Please!

A Yandere! All Might x F! Reader Fic~

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ...

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰:

Stalking, gaslighting, phycological manipulation, anything that has to do with the yandere trope.

Weeks later, you completely forgot about the incident. Your life had returned to its normal, average, exceedingly mundane routine.

One night, you were curled up in your apartment when you heard a stray cat pathetically crying out for help. You’re an animal lover, and hearing that pitiful cry sent you into immediate action.

You rushed outside, still in your house clothes, looking for the animal. You didn’t think to bring your phone, a jacket, or anything else, but you just had to help this creature.

The cat cried on, leading you towards it. You found yourself walking into a darkened, dingy alleyway.

The meowing stopped abruptly.

“What d’ya think you’re doing here?” a gruff, disgusting voice whispered out. He seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“I-I’m...the cat...” you mumbled. You instinctively covered yourself, not being naked but also not being entirely decent. You were hoping to be in and out, just grabbing the kitten and bringing it to safety.

“Oh. Don’t you know better than to be wandering around outside at night, lil lady?” the man smirked, revealing yellowed, worn teeth. At that moment, the light hit him just right to reveal who he was. He was one of the local creeps, the kind you’d see begging for cash and coins on the corner, wondering why everyone passes him by until you see him up close and smell the strong scent of alcohol and cigarettes coming from him.

You said nothing, still wondering where that cat went.

“...especially out here all by yerself...” the man continued as he picked at his gums with his grime filled fingernails.

You made eye contact with him.

“It’d be such a shame if something were to happen to ya, little lady...” he drabbled on. Your hand looked for your phone in your pocket as you backed up and away from the alley.

“Now, where are ya going? I wasn’t gonna hurt ya none!” he teased, grabbing your wrist. You screamed, trying to yank away your hand.

“Ah, now ya can’t be doin’ none of that,” he grinned. Suddenly, he pointed his index and thumb at you, making a gun like motion. You froze, confused yet somehow understanding.

This was the fucker’s quirk.

His fingers around your arm became barbed wire, digging and cutting and slicing into your flesh. When you looked up from your bloodied arm, you saw that his hand had morphed into an actual pistol, and it was now pointed directly at your skull.

Tears silently streamed down your face as you looked down, now unable to fight back.

“Yes, I will be coming in tomorrow ... you won’t need to cancel the class. No, thank you.” you overheard someone on the phone. It was a male’s voice, and you prayed with all your heart that it was a hero out on patrol.

He passed the alley, not even taking a millisecond to glance in your direction. Your heart plummeted.

“...What...what do you want with me?” your voice shuddered. The man said nothing. You looked up at him.

He was staring intently at something outside of the alley, but you were so fear stricken that you couldn’t bring yourself to look at what it could be.

Without warning, you were thrown to the ground, and the man was running away. You sat up, clutching your injured arm, trying to get answers, but everything happened in a flash before your eyes.

All you saw was blood. Lots of it. Too much.

You couldn’t worry about that now, though. You had to get away.

You got up, scraping your soft, white palms, rushing out and away from that damned alley. At this point, you didn’t give a shit what happened. All you know is that you’re alive.

You scrambled up your stairs, slamming and locking your door. You pushed a chair in front of it, switched all your lights on, and slept with your biggest kitchen knife under your pillow.

The very next day, the news reporter plainly read off of her script, letting everyone know that a local homeless man was brutally murdered last night.

“We don’t have many details surrounding the motive, but we have reason to believe that this was a spontaneous spur of the moment killing,” she stated.

“Now, back to the weather today with Susan Straham!” a male voice boomed, panning over to a perky weather lady. You shut off the tv and rubbed your arm. The door was still locked and bolted shut, the chair still propped up. You shuddered at the memory.

Despite your discomfort, the day still had to go on. You left for work, listening to music as you walked.

Up ahead, you spotted a familiar figure. All Might.

He didn’t notice you at first, but when he did, he basically picked you up, hugging you.

“I told you I’d see you again!” he beamed. People stopped to stare.

You put your hands out in front of you to signal him to tone it down a notch or two. Or a hundred.

He didn’t get what you were hinting at, though, and gleefully continued to absolutely shower you in attention.

Suddenly, he stopped speaking. You tugged down on your shirt sleeve, realizing he probably noticed your battle wounds from last night.

His tone completely changed as he monotonly asked if you heard about last night’s murder.

He eyed you, now walking with you to work.

You didn’t mention what happened. It’s not like it could have been connected or anything, right? ...Right?

Finally, you arrived at work.

“I hate to say goodbye again,” he frowned. You shrugged.

“Well, it’s not like this is the last time you’ll ever see me, ya know,” you mumbled.

“What makes you so sure of that?” he asked. Your blood ran cold for a split second.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you never know what can happen. Stay safe, okay? I...don’t know what I’ll do if I never see you again,” he frowned. You were blown away by his sudden change of tone and his seriousness and said nothing.

You just waved, entering your workplace and taking the elevator up. All Might lingered there at the entrance for a few moments, watching you go higher and higher, until he left, too.

A couple days went by with nothing interesting happening. Your arm was healing up nicely, and you were starting to feel okay in your apartment again.

Today, you went to your usual coffee shop, and the barista informed you that someone had already paid for your drink in advance.

“How could they have? I’m the only one in here,” you asked. The barista shrugged, just repeating that you didn’t owe them anything.

Maybe the barista was just trying to flirt. That’d make sense.

Definitely. That has to be it.

It wasn’t until that weekend when you realized that you had been seeing All Might patrolling in your area a lot more than usual. No matter how many times he’d see you, though, he’d always have the same over-the-top reaction. It was definitely endearing, in a way, but the attention you got from others was embarrassing enough for you to shrug away from it.

You had to admit, though, feeling another human’s touch was something refreshing. For years, you’ve been locked up in your tiny one bedroom apartment by yourself, just wishing that you could find someone.

You joined a dating app not too long ago, which has been pretty hit or miss.

Maybe you would meet someone soon. Hopefully, at least.

#yandere! all might #yandere! yagi toshinori x reader #yandere! mha #yandere!#yandere! small might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere fic #yandere! all might x reader #f!reader #yandere!all might

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writing-freak · 4 years

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BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul

(GIF credit to its owner!!! :) )

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Word Count: 1,373

A/N: It’s day 4 of my bnha soulmate au week!! Today’s fic, featuring this cutie, is an au where there are colorful marks on your skin where your soulmate touches you for the first time. Reader has a pair of hands on their waist! They turn black when the soulmate touches them. I love this boy so much, and I had such a fun time writing this, so I hope you guys like it! Remember, I’m taking soulmate au headcannon and imagine requests for BNHA characters in addition to the 3 other fics I have planned for this week! Stay tuned, tomorrow I have a cute drawing one with the lovable idiot, Kaminari! I also have some headcannons for Shinsou and Aizawa coming this evening! If you want to be added to this week’s taglist, or have a request, let me know! Thanks for reading!! :))

Masterlist

Unlike most, you were dreading the day you met your soulmate. You lived in a world in which people wore their soulmarks proudly, and it wasn’t uncommon to find bright marks dotting people’s faces, arms, necks, collarbones. Your mother had a soulmark on her right shoulder, which matched your father’s marks on the tips of his left fingers. You always found her wearing clothes that displayed the dark handprint (dark once it had been touched), never wanting to cover it up.

You, on the other hand, didn’t like people to see your soulmark. Because instead of a handprint on your shoulder, a mark on your hands that you’ve shook, or a brush on your arm where you bump into each other on the street, you had a very different soulmark. Just above your hips, on the sides of your waist, were two big handprints, grabbing you from behind.

You didn’t exactly know the context of when or where or under what circumstances your soulmate would grab you by the hips, but you also weren’t stupid, and the only guesses you could come up with involved your soulmate being some kind of perv. So no, you weren’t looking forward to meeting them.

And it wouldn’t be until you met them that you changed your mind.

You weren’t expecting it to be such a lively day when you woke up that morning, deciding real quick to take a last minute trip to the grocery store before your friends came for dinner that afternoon. It was a pretty mundane morning, to be quite honest, and the most out-of-the-ordinary thing you did was deciding to have a bowl of cereal instead of just your daily cup of coffee for breakfast.

It was sunny out (that was a nice change from the rain you’d been stuck in all week), so you had no problem walking the fifteen minutes or so to the store. It was a decision you made when you were about halfway there that, looking back, may have not been the best choice.

The streets were crowded - it appeared everyone had the same idea as you - and you were becoming uncomfortable with the massive groups. You saw a smaller street ahead, one you recognized from when you had lived in the area as a child, and decided to take a little shortcut (it could hardly be called a shortcut, about ten minutes out of the way).

As you turned onto the street, you realized it had changed a lot over the years. The houses that had once housed families with children your age looked abandoned, and the overgrowth of trees on the sides of the road blocked a lot of the sunlight.

You weren’t even halfway down the road when you decided you were going to turn back.

But when you spun around, quickly, before you could change your mind, you were met face to face with a man you hadn’t realized was right behind you.

There was a flash of pain, and you felt the man’s body connecting with yours. You were tackled off the street, and found yourself on the ground, rubbing your elbows where you had fallen on them. The man had leapt back, and he was facing you with a menacing grin on his face. You struggled to stand, facing the man, who, now that you looked at him, in his strange suit and mask hanging from his face, you realized was a villain.

You were frozen to the spot, unable to move as the villain stared you down. Unfortunately for you, the villain had tackled you into a dark alley, and since you hadn’t been on the main street anyway, you were worried that no one would see you, and no one would come to your rescue. But no matter how much you knew in that moment that your fate rested in your hands, you simply could not move, rooted to the spot by an intense fear sweeping over you.

But your theory about not being seen must have been wrong, for seconds later, you heard a pair of sweeping wings flying over you. You hoped and prayed it was a hero, or a helpful civilian, and not another villain, but based on the man in front of you’s reaction, it wasn’t someone he liked.

The villain lashed out with his quirk, and a pair of steel bars came flying at you. But you heard one more sweep of the wings, and a pair of arms grabbed your waist and flew you out of the way just before the bars could impale your chest.

Despite the circumstances, and your racing heart, your attention immediately went to the hands on your waist, which seemed to be radiating some sort of warmth, a warmth that spread through your entire body. And even as the hands left your waist to wrap around your body, lifting you from the ground to get you further away from the scene, the warmth never left, sending an unexpected sort of comfort with you as you and your savior took to the skies.

You had never liked heights, but it was over in an instant, and you were set onto solid ground (or so you thought, you were a little dizzy from the flight) within seconds. The arms left, and you jumped away, turning to finally get a good look at the person who had saved your life.

You certainly weren’t expected to see the number two pro hero Hawks, with his red wings spreading behind him, his mouth open and his eyes wide with shock.

But a sudden breeze blew over you, stronger than you were used to, and your attention was momentarily brought to your surroundings.

“Are we on a roof?” you asked incredulously, looking around you.

Your words seemed to break the hero in front of you out of his trance, and he frantically began tearing his black gloves off, looking at his hands in amazement. His gaze then shifted to you, and in the time you took to blink, he was right there, holding your waist as he pulled you closer.

“What are you doing?” But Hawks didn’t listen, and he was currently pulling your shirt up, which happened to be tucked into your jeans. Before you could try and push him off, your soulmarks were revealed, and while the wind on your bare skin was biting, as the man, now behind you, fit his fingers over the marks on your skin, where they fit perfectly, a warmth like before spread through you.

The marks had turned black in the time it had taken you to fly to the roof.

His hands were lifted from your skin, and then he was turning you around to face him. But you could only stare into his golden eyes with the same look he had given you before, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He looked more composed, and a sly sort of grin crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes at you. It was all consuming, his gaze, and you felt your breath knocked from your lungs as you couldn’t look away.

His smile never faded, even as he talked, and his eyes were glued to yours, permanently, it seemed. You were way too close for you to focus. “I have a feeling by the look on your face that you know who I am, little dove,” he said, the first words he spoke to you, his voice unexpectedly deep and husky. “But as much as I regret having to say this, I do not know you. Care to introduce yourself to me?”

You realized you couldn’t speak. But as Hawks looked at you expectantly, you cleared your throat. “I-I’m y/n.”

His smile grew wider, if at all possible. “What a lovely name, y/n. I do believe we are soulmates.” You realized suddenly that his arms were still at your sides.

“Don’t you have a patrol to be doing?” you asked nervously, feeling breathless as you felt the distance between your bodies closing, every so slowly.

“I would say that I have a pretty good excuse. It’s not every day you meet the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”

Taglist: @anything-and-everything-here69 @engel-hageshii @mrsreina @pm4gal

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xenteaart · 4 years

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One Faulty Briefcase

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Basically, due to some faulty time-travelling equipment you get separated from Five and end up being stuck in the past on your own. Fun times.

GIF: @jos-march

Note: This is another part of this AU. Five and reader are in their late 20s here. Hope you enjoy! Pure fluff for you during those dark uncertain times

You’ve been stuck in the past alone for two years now. It was the 15th of May 1982; you and Five were just finishing up one of your missions, nothing remarkable, nothing extraordinary. Getting rid of your mark was quite easy, you’d say almost too easy to hope the mission was going to end well.

“Five, I think there’s something wrong with the briefcase,” you pointed out worryingly, eyeing the time-travelling device with suspicion as the two of you were gathering your things around the motel room, getting ready to leave.

“What do you mean?” he asked nonchalantly, paying very little attention to your concern.

“We landed weird. Not like we usually do. I don’t know, something was just off about it,” you replied with a puzzled frown on your face, recognizing that whether you were right or not, the briefcase remained your only way out of the year you didn’t belong in. Five looked the device indifferently and shrugged, not thinking much of it.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Five to be done with whatever it was he was doing, staring at the goddamn briefcase as if it was alive and plotting against you. It was probably nothing. You didn’t get to have a vacation in so long, always on the go, always busy and tense, it was probably just your exhaustion transforming into paranoia. Maybe, all you needed was a day off.

“Okay, let’s go,” Five’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You simply nodded and got up on your feet before taking a hold of the briefcase and stepping closer to Five so he could put his hand on your shoulder. Using a briefcase wasn’t exactly rocket science - there were very little ways to mess up. None, to be precise. They were programmed to a certain time period by the clerks at the Commission, and all you had to do was push a button, so, clearly, it couldn’t have been you who screwed the time-jump. But something did, and the very second you pushed that button, you felt electricity go through your veins, making you break the contact and let go off the briefcase.The pain that coursed through your system lingered for another twenty seconds, leaving you shaking on the floor and breathing through what felt like a full-body cramp, and when it finally subsided, you looked around and realized you were still in the motel room in 1982, except Five was gone and nowhere to be seen along with the briefcase.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” you whispered to yourself, your eyes wide open in disbelief that you were actually right to be worried.

The damned briefcase was your only chance to get home. Well, you didn’t really have a home per se but even the flat the Commission provided you and Five with, despite the fact that you barely got to spend any time there with your never ending trips across the timeline, seemed like a better option than being stranded in the past completely on your own.

“Fuck.”

You had no better option other than to wait for Five to show up but with each passing day your hope and patience were wearing thinner and thinner.

There were only two reasons as to why it’s been two years and you still haven’t heard from him - he either just didn’t care about you which was quite unlikely or he was in some sort of trouble himself. Some days you felt very optimistic, knowing full well that Five would never just leave you nor would he give up on trying to reach you, other days anxiety and solitude weren’t doing you any favors, making you believe it was how you were going to live out the rest of your life. In the year that you didn’t belong, doing things that weren’t yours to do, sleeping in a bed that wasn’t yours to sleep in. The most difficult part was living through each day completely clueless about when it was going to end or if it was to end at all.

For the first few days you stayed at the motel, waiting for Five and still full of hope. Thankfully, you had enough cash on you to cover a week's stay. But on the seventh day you woke up and it suddenly dawned on you. You had to go and make a life for yourself because you were staying.

It wasn’t exactly easy since people barely cared about your circumstances, dismissing you like they dismissed any other homeless person. You were invisible to them, just another nuisance with a story they didn’t have time for.

As soon as you completely exhausted your resources and didn’t even have lunch money, you had to spend a few days living on the streets. Sure, being a professional assassin was a relative advantage on your side but you didn’t want to spill any unnecessary blood and only used your skills for mild robberies up until you landed a job at some cafe.

You thought it was a nice change since you were never exactly happy with working for the Commission in the first place. Serving meals and talking to customers felt like a much needed vacation - the job was simple and almost relaxing, especially compared to a job of a hitman. Being a waitress, however, didn’t bring you nearly as much money as you needed to cover your rent so you still robbed occasionally, always making sure no one got hurt.

Five crash landed in some dark alley, even though mere seconds ago it was noon. The briefcase became too hot to the touch, so hot it was painful to hold it, so Five hissed and let go of it instantly. It didn’t explode like he expected it to which was really good news, it meant it was still working but obviously needed fixing.

Luckily, Five Hargreeves was a bit of a genius so he was bound to make things right eventually. But for now he was also thrown off the original course, landing just a few years later, in 1990.

The Commission didn’t seem to care about the accident much. Of course, they could send another agent to scoop you both and bring you back safely but you were nothing but tiny cogs in a grand machine, and you were replaceable. Watching you two on an Infinite Switchboard, the Handler lit her cigarette with a sinister giggle, curious about how you were going to figure it out. She would probably help you if there was some out-of-the-ordinary case that she’d need Five to take but for now everything was rather peaceful, tedious even, and the Handler fancied some entertainment. Plus, any agent could take the job she had planned for you both, so there was truly no hurry.

As soon as Five found a safe place with no one around to distract him, he began fiddling with the wires inside the briefcase, hectically remembering everything he’d learned about them in Orientation. There was no easy fix to this and he was probably going to need some time to come up with the solution but he already had a few options in mind so it was time to get started.

It was a slow lazy Sunday and you were already at work, all dressed up in your uniform and in an unreasonably good mood. Maybe it was the sun outside that made you a little happier and a titch more oblivious to your circumstances or maybe you actually enjoyed living a normal mundane human life, or maybe it was both. Either way, you felt pretty alright for someone who got stranded in the past with no chance of seeing the person they loved the most.

The place you worked at was usually pretty crowded on Sundays, so you had barely any time to be reflecting on your life, too busy running around with plates and drinks in your hands.

One of the hit songs started playing on the radio and you couldn’t help but dance to the happy tunes that felt so appropriate for the warm bright day outside.

“Come on, don’t let me down this time,” Five whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and wiping away a few drops of sweat from his forehead. He took a few seconds to assess his work, making sure he didn’t miss anything and the briefcase was all done and ready. Needless to say, he’s tried contacting the Commission numerous times by this point but all he got in response was silence, so he gave up on that idea eventually and tried to repair the device on his own.

Five pushed the button.

This time, the landing was even rougher than before, quite literally making him smash into the hard unwelcoming asphalt and split his eyebrow. But he did land somewhere so it could probably count as progress.

Your shift was coming to an end as the city was slowly immersing into the pink colors of the evening sky. As Five entered the cafe, you were still waltzing between the tables almost carefree, mouthing the lyrics of some random song and moving to its beats like no one was watching. He recognized you right away, your posture, moves and physique too familiar to overlook. You’ve spent more than ten years together, after all.

When you finally noticed him just standing in the middle of the hall, your heart dropped and so would the plates you were holding if you hadn’t been quick enough to catch them. You froze for a good ten seconds, staring Five right in the eye, too scared to believe it was actually him and not your imagination playing tricks on you. As you put the plates down on a nearby table with a loud bang, you ran towards Five and squeezed him in a deadly tight hug, almost making him lose his balance.

“What the fuck, Five,” you said with a gasp of relief, your words half muffled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, “How did you find me?”

“What? I didn’t. I just popped in for a coffee before looking for you,” he uttered, frowning. Only as you pulled away, you finally noticed that Five was still wearing his work suit, and the stains on the fabric were a clear giveaway that it was the very same suit he was wearing on the day you two got separated, “Wait. Why is your hair so long? And what are you doing here?”

Now you were both confused. Properly confused.

“What?”

“What?” he mirrored your tone, still gazing at you as if he was solving a riddle. And then it hit him. “What year is this?”

“1984. It’s been two years.”

“No, it hasn’t.” and it was true for Five, it’s been less than a week in his timeline, so he either miscalculated the jump or the briefcase’s navigation system was more corrupt than he had anticipated.

“Yes, it has, smartass, look around,” the words came out a lot more snappy than you would have liked, and you took a deep breath, then wrapping your arms around Five again and pulling him closer, clearly reluctant to ever let go just in case.

“Not sure if I want to attempt getting us back with that nonsense of a briefcase but we’re both here now so that’s good news,” he muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head a little as he returned your hug and held you close. You smiled weakly and chuckled, giving him a quiet “yeah” in response.

Five’s body was warm against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the realization of how much you’ve missed him. He rested his hands on your waist in a protective manner and simply stood there, letting you enjoy the embrace as the entire cafe was silently staring at the pair of you with utmost confusion and almost fascination.

“You know what that means, though?” you asked quietly, unable to resist a smug grin.

“Hm?”

“I am now four years older than you instead of two.”

“Oh, God. I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” he rolled his eyes in response as he was gently rubbing your back in calming circles.

“Nope.”

The consequences for the Handler were going to be disastrous because Five was already getting about a dozen ideas on how to make her pay for her inaction and there was no force on planet Earth that could stop him.

a little sequel to this fic here

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x you #tua fic #The Umbrella Academy #five hargreeves #number five #my fic #my writing #five x reader

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas.

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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pretchatta · 3 years

Text

swoon june day 1: meet-cute

a kanera flower shop au

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 3.1k words

---

“Morning,” Kanan called as the cantina door slid shut behind him. He didn’t wait for a response, making a beeline for the caf machine which sat behind the counter.

The dining area was empty, with the lights only flickering to life as he entered and the chairs stacked upside-down on the tables from the night before. The place was shabby but clean, and with what little of the late morning sun that made it through the windows glinting off the glassware behind the bar, it could even be described as respectable.

Kanan knew he was a few minutes late, but it was a mark of his respect for his employer that he hadn't pushed it later still by stopping to get caf on his way in. Now, however, he needed his caffeine fix before he could start getting the cantina ready for the lunchtime shift.

“There you are!” Okadiah called out as he emerged from the kitchen, a dish towel in one hand and a glass in the other. “Don’t bother taking your coat off, I need you to go back out and pick up the flowers.”

Kanan already had one hand on the command terminal of the caf machine, but he paused to look at the white-haired man. “Flowers?”

“It’s Father’s Day, lad, we’ve got to have flowers!” Okadiah said it like it was obvious. “Only a degenerate doesn't take their dad out for Father's Day, and if we want to attract people in here we've got to look the part!”

Kanan gave him a bemused look. In his opinion, there were several things wrong with that statement, but he stuck to the most pressing. “Where am I supposed to get flowers from?”

“From the shop you walk past twice a day.” He spoke slowly, as if to someone very dim. “It’s just around the corner, with the big green sign. I’ve already placed an order, and all you have to do is collect it.”

“...If I walk past it every day, I feel like I would have seen it.” Maybe it was the lack of caf, but none of this was making very much sense to him right now.

“It’s there,” Okadiah assured him. “Now go! You’ll be putting the fancy tablecloths out when you get back, and I won’t be opening late just because you dragged your feet.”

Kanan groaned and rolled his eyes at Okadiah. He allowed himself to be ushered back to the door he’d just entered through and with a final longing look at the caf machine, he departed.

He retraced his steps and around the corner, right where the old man had said it would be, was the flower shop. A hand-painted sign above the entrance of white lettering on a green background proclaimed it to be “Numa’s Blooms” in cursive aurabesh. As Kanan stepped through the automatic door, the first thing he noticed was the overwhelmingly floral scent to the air.

The second was the voice.

The inside of the shop was packed with every leaf and bloom imaginable, creating a gorgeous display that pleased the eyes and the nose alike. Behind the counter, just visible amongst the foliage, was a teal-skinned twi’lek woman who’s attention was directed towards the back of the shop. That was where the voice was coming from.

“...lilies, tulips, freesias, lisianthus, chrysanthemums, roses.” It was a woman’s voice, and it had an almost musical quality to it. “All here, but the roses are a slightly darker shade of blue than the rest.”

Kanan found himself peering through the foliage towards the source, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person whose face must surely look as divine as she sounded. The woman behind the counter – Numa herself, according to her name badge – glanced over to him as he entered.

“Just log it in our feedback, we can chase it later,” she called over her shoulder. Her voice sounded mundane in comparison, though it had a distinctly Rylothian accent.

“How can I help you?” she directed at Kanan. She seemed as tired as if she'd already worked a full day, even though it wasn't yet noon.

“Uh...” It took him a second to remember exactly what he’d come here for. “I’m here to pick up the order for The Asteroid Belt – or Okadiah Garson... He didn’t tell me what name it’s under.”

Numa raised one eyebrow at him before consulting the clipboard in her hand. “That’s the cantina around the corner, right? Yes, Okadiah booked a delivery slot with his order. It’ll be with you in about twenty minutes, my colleague’s preparing the hovertruck now and you’re first on the manifest.”

“Great,” he said in a flat voice. He could've been enjoying his morning caf right now, but the old man just had to send him on a wild nuna chase instead. Now he would have to wait until the tables were set up and the bar opened.

He trudged back to The Asteroid Belt, and the next twenty minutes were exactly as rushed as he'd predicted. The only saving grace was that Okadiah opened the bar for him, but given that he'd been late to start with, it didn't save much time.

When the dining area was ready, he eagerly ducked behind the counter to make himself his precious cup of caf.

“Did you do the tables in the back room too?” Okadiah yelled from the kitchen.

“No. We never use them!” Kanan called back.

“We’re going to be packed today, lad!”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s Father’s Day! Only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day!”

“All right, all right.” Kanan rolled his eyes, even though the old man couldn't see, and prepared to set the back room up in record time.

He heard a vehicle pulling up at the service entrance just as Okadiah shouted again.

“Scratch that, forget the back room, that should be our flowers!”

Kanan spun on his heels and made his way into the kitchen.

“Make sure there are some on every table,” Okadiah continued, “and if there are extras, put them by the windows and the front door. We want to make sure everyone wants to come here-”

“Since only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day,” Kanan finished with another roll of his eyes and a wry smile before opening the back door. His expression froze on his face as he took in who was outside.

The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

With the most disgusted look on her face.

---

Hera carefully steered the hovertruck into the narrow alley. It was a tight fit, but nothing she couldn’t handle, and she was certain the delivery instructions said that this was the place.

She fidgeted in her jacket. Numa had told her to wear it as it was part of her uniform, but after helping Gobi to load the truck and with the sun streaming through the windshield it was far too warm. She unzipped it, able to hold the truck steady with one hand as she did so.

A faded, peeling sign indicated the back entrance to The Asteroid Belt. Hera pulled the truck a little beyond the door – the alley was no wider up here, so she’d need to get the rear hatch of the truck next to the delivery point and then reverse back out again when she was done unloading.

Fortunately, there was just enough space for her to squeeze down the side to get there without brushing the alley wall too much. She opened up the truck and hefted the first bucket of flowers out.

“...only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day.” The voice was muffled, coming through the door to the cantina, but clear enough to her twi’lek ears. Her lips curled into a grimace of their own accord. She hated Father’s Day, and all of the pomp and obligation that came with it.

Before she could smooth her face back into something more appropriate for paying customers, the door opened. She found herself face-to-face with one of the cantina workers, a human man with an annoying half-smirk on his face. She guessed he’d been the one disparaging unwilling children of absent fathers like herself.

Still, he was a customer, and Numa would never forgive her if she lost the shop a reliable source of income like this cantina.

“Delivery from Numa’s Blooms,” she said brightly, pasting a fake smile on her face to match her best customer service voice.

The man simply stared at her.

“...You do want these flowers, right?”

“Yes! Right. Uh, just in here.” He gestured to an empty countertop just inside the door and stepped aside so that she could place the first bucket on it.

When she walked back to the truck without another word, he followed.

“Sorry about all this,” he said, waving a hand at the alley in general as he seemed to recover from whatever had tongue-tied him at the door. “Not the nicest of delivery locations, I know. But hey, you’re at the best bar in the district.” He shot her a smile that was clearly supposed to be winning.

“Right.” she said flatly. So he was going to be chatty. Great.

She couldn’t deal with both him and the heat, so she opted to remove her jacket completely and toss it into the back of the truck. As she grabbed the next bucket, he took another that was marked with the name of the cantina and continued talking.

“Guess you’re pretty busy today, huh? I know not everyone celebrates it, but there must be enough who do to give a shop like yours plenty of work.”

“Sure.”

And I know exactly what you think of those of us who try not to celebrate, she thought to herself. Did he not realise that Hera had heard what he said? Humans always forgot that twi’leks had better hearing than them; perhaps it was because they covered their ears. They set the buckets down and went back for more.

“Still, at least we have labour laws that mean we get the evening off!”

Yes, the enforced shorter working day meant to give employees time to spend with their families. Hera had begged Numa to let her work her normal shift, but the other woman refused to break the law, even if Hera was asking her for it. All she had been able to do was to find an odd job one of her customers needed; Hera didn’t have all of the details yet, but it was some kind of shuttle bus repair that would be unpaid. Hera was just grateful for the excuse to not see her father.

“I’m Kanan, by the way.”

He really wasn’t getting the hint. She set the final bucket down on the counter and turned to him.

“Well, Kanan, that’s the last of your delivery. I’ve got to get to my next drop, but you have a nice Father’s Day.”

She gave him another fake smile before ducking back out of the door to close the truck.

“You too!” He called as she slid back through the narrow gap to the driver’s door.

She climbed in and started the engine. Relief washed over her at finally being done, though it was tinged with apprehension – the rest of her shift was all too likely to be more of the same.

Look on the bright side, Hera, she thought to herself. At least you don’t have to talk to that Kanan guy again.

---

Kanan couldn’t help but admire the woman’s driving as she reversed her hovertruck back down the alley. It was barely wide enough for the truck, mere inches on either side, but she never once came close to scraping the walls. He didn’t know anyone who could drive with such precision and control.

He’d been ecstatic when she’d first shown up. Not only gorgeous, but also the owner of the voice he’d heard in the shop. He’d tried desperately to engage her in conversation, hoping to hear her speak more than single words. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seemed too enamoured with him. He wasn’t sure if she’d been having a rough day or if it was something about him (more likely her day, as his previous experience with women suggested it was not the latter) but she’d made it pretty clear she hadn’t been interested in talking. It was disappointing, but he’d taken the hint and stopped short of asking if she had a free evening in her near future.

Still, he would’ve liked to at least have gotten her name.

He shut the back door and turned to the buckets of flowers that now crowded this end of the kitchen. Fifteen minutes to go until they opened. He felt his shoulders sag at the thought of how much work was ahead of him, with no time for caf in sight.

He went to grab a bucket at random to start laying the flowers out, but something caught his eye. Snagged on one of the thicker stalks was a piece of clothing – a jacket, he realised, very like the one Numa had been wearing when he’d been in the shop this morning. In fact...

He picked it up and held it out in front of him. The delivery driver had taken hers off shortly after arriving and tossed it into the truck – it must have caught on the flowers and he hadn’t noticed it when he brought it in.

He brightened – maybe this would give him another chance to see her again. Even better, like Numa’s, it had a name badge pinned to the front.

HERA.

He didn’t find himself missing his morning caf again as he finished getting The Asteroid Belt ready to open. There was a spring in his step as he served the customers who came through the door, and Okadiah was right, there were a lot more than their usual intake.

The shift finally came to an end, and though Kanan was tired, he hadn’t lost the spark of energy that the thought of seeing Hera again had given him. As soon as the last customer was out of the door, he raced back to the kitchen to grab the jacket he’d left by the back door.

“Just got an errand to run, Oke, I’ll be back to close up in ten minutes!” he called, not waiting for an answer before rushing out.

Numa was behind the counter again back at the flower shop,

“Hey! Is Hera around?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who’s asking?”

“It’s Kanan, from The Asteroid Belt. She left her jacket behind, I just wanted to give it back to her.”

“Kanan from The Asteroid Belt?” Numa repeated. “No, she’s not in, in fact she just left. But I’ll take her jacket and give it to her next time she has a shift.” Numa held out a hand, and her expression left no room for bargaining.

Kanan felt his face fall in disappointment. He’d hoped that by coming as soon as he could he’d catch her before she finished working, but apparently he hadn’t been fast enough. He passed the jacket over the counter.

“Thank you for returning it,” Numa said, clearly dismissing him. “Have a nice evening off.”

Kanan appreciated the sentiment, but he knew that his evening would be neither nice nor off. Okadiah had apparently finally found someone to repair his hoverbus, and Kanan had offered to stick around late to let whoever it was into the hangar where it was parked.

The bus was Okadiah’s latest idea to grow the cantina’s list of regulars; he wanted to use it to shuttle workers from the industrial estate on the other side of town to this district, where a good number of them lived. Conveniently, the bus would stop right outside of The Asteroid Belt. Kanan thought it was a pretty good idea, but only if the old man could actually get the bus to run.

He returned to the cantina to find Okadiah hadn’t even noticed he’d gone, and closed up without any problems. He couldn’t quite bring himself to throw out the flowers, so he refilled the buckets with fresh water and stood them along the bar as decorations.

Once the dining area was once again stacked and clean – there would be no dinner shift today – Kanan retrieved his day’s pay from Okadiah and headed to the hangar, leaving the proprietor to lock up.

Waiting outside the hangar door was the last person he’d expected to see.

“Hera?”

She didn’t seem surprised he knew her name. Her face was a mask as she watched him walk closer, her only acknowledgement of him a single raised eyebrow as he brought out Okadiah’s key card.

“I guess I’m here to fix your hoverbus,” she said with absolutely zero enthusiasm.

“I guess so,” he replied cautiously, unlocking the door. “You, uh, left your jacket behind earlier. I dropped it back with Numa.”

“I heard. So what happened to 'only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day'?"

He couldn’t resist the opening. "Perhaps I'm a degenerate," he said with a swagger and a wink. She gave him a flat look and turned away to walk through the door.

He followed her into the hangar, where the automatic lights slowly blinked on to reveal the old, battered, third-or-possibly-fourth-hand hoverbus.

"I also don't have a father," he said in a much softer voice. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to share that, but the words were out now.

She stopped her inspection of the bus to turn to him.

"Oh - I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It’s why I was free for this job tonight.”

She looked awkward, and something made him keep going.

“My parents died when I was a baby, so I don't even remember them. Okadiah’s the one who’s obsessed with that stuff, but I hadn’t had enough caf this morning to argue with him about it."

“So what you said–”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe that.” He reached up to rub at his neck. “In fact, I kinda dread days like these. They just remind me of what I don’t have.”

“...I feel the same.” Her voice was quiet.

“Yeah?”

“I lost my mother when I was younger, and my father… Wasn’t his best after that. It was hard.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment, heavy and serious.

“Hey,” he offered lightheartedly. “Who needs parents when you’ve got a broken down hoverbus for entertainment?”

He felt a jolt of triumph as she gave him a small smile.

“Can’t complain about the company, either.”

“No?”

Her smile grew. “Well, the first impression was terrible. But given a second chance… You’re not bad.”

“‘Not bad’,” he repeated. “I’ll take that.”

She laughed, somehow an even more beautiful sound than her voice, and Kanan decided he’d do whatever he could to make her laugh like that again.

#kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #swoonjune2021 #swoon june #star wars #star wars: rebels #fic #pretchwritta #flower shop au #remember how i said i was going to keep it to 500 words a day #yeah that's starting off so great #now to make tomorrow's rebels appreciation post...

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thoseofgreatambition · 4 years

Text

GOOD POINTS PT 2. || LAID BARE

pt 1

desc: you wound up as fred’s healer somehow. after years of squabbling and bullying each other. for some reason, the poor bastard began coming to you for comfort. well, you did know the reason after all. watching your twin die would send anyone to do odd things, wouldn’t it? mundane deaths were always the most painful.

a/n: hope y’all like this! i haven’t seen a george dies! au before and i thought it’d be fun to write. if you love me let me gooooooooooooo leave feedback!

warnings: death, sickness, angst, no proofreading

taglist: @harrysweasleys @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant @slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @woakiees @black-widow-fangirl @theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot @chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme @illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12 @obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld @shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @ickle-ronniekins @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester @parker-potters @deafgirltingz @utahjoerdis @highly-acidic @feffffffy @stuckindilemma @jenniweaslee @ohcrap11 @melodymari @teenamericana @slytherinshadowhunterraven @vidhi01 @malfoysweasley @coolepowersthings @lespaceboi @tinybuttercups @peachesandpinks

You frowned at the man at your doorstep. The way he leant on his cane. The absolute look of distaste on his face as he stared at you. The bundle in his free hand that appeared to hold food.

“If you keep coming to my house I can’t be your healer, Weasley.”

He’d never once directed a proper smile your way. A happy one. One that made you feel like he was glad to see you. Instead the halfhearted grin on his face reminded you of your years in Hogwarts, where he was angry at you and joyful of besting you at the same time.

“Would you really kick out the sick man whose best friend and brother died?”

“Of course. I’m not losing my job because you’re sad, Fred.”

The look of pain on his face was enough to soften your heart. Not to mention the fact that he’d missed your last check-in.

Or the white knuckled grip on his cane. The wobble in his knees.

You stepped aside to allow him entry into your home. “Come in, this is a check up then. Hope you brought some money with you. I’ve got to make a living somehow.”

“Course I did. Never knew you one to be charitable after all.”

You rolled your eyes before closing the door. There were no qualms in your soul about being rude to Fred.

Aside from the whole ‘do no harm’, business.

“Shut up, sit down, and take off your shirt.”

The good thing about Fred Weasley, though you rarely thought of any, was that he was a pretty cooperative patient.

From a purely objective standpoint, you supposed he was nice to look at as well. “Why are you here Weasley?” you strode over and began to gently prod at his back to check on the various lumps and bruises you’d seen a few weeks back. “How’s the physical therapy going?”

The truth was that the flat was too quiet. The burrow was too quiet. Before there had always been noise. George snoring. George tinkering. George chiding him like their mother. George reading on the little chair in their old room.

It was gone. It was gone and there was no one to talk about it. Mum got sad. Dad kept giving him that heartbreaking look. Fred was painfully aware of how loved he was.

But something made him feel as if he couldn’t speak around them.

There was no expectations with you though. No emotional attachments. There was something freeing about speaking to someone you’d hated growing up. As long as you were ready for retorts that could hurt as much as the barbs you sent.

“It’s hard to talk to my family. Easier to talk to you.” He hissed as you prodded at an especially sensitive spot. “It’s going good. I went on a walk yesterday around the alley. My back and knees hurt a lot, but I didn’t get too winded.”

“Surprised you want to talk to the woman who made you cry no less than five times when we were younger.”

Fred frowned, “Thought you wanted to move past that.”

You only shrugged. “Pants off. Let me check your knees. What kind of stretches have you been doing?”

“Don’t you buy someone dinner first?”

“Don’t reckon I’d want to fuck you right now, since you can’t hardly move without pain. That’s not something I’m into.”

With a smirk, you noticed his chest flush red as he got out of his trousers, just to sit back down at your kitchen table in his boxers. Your fingers felt far too warm on his knees as you gently prodded at them.

“George would like you, you know.”

You quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Thought he’d hate me. I was awful rude to the poor guy.”

What an awful ending for a good man. Even if you didn’t like him. Not a hero’s ending. A smashed foot while cleaning up from the battle. Septic shock. Dead in less than three days.

Fred hadn’t even been released from the hospital.

Even you’d heard all the Weasley’s joking about the odds of them all making it out alive.

“You’re a good healer. He’d have liked you.”

You frowned, as you heard Fred’s chest shudder. From your view on your knees, softly checking his legs you could see his painful grip on the chair. The cuticles on his hands picked raw. The bandages on his right hand that made you wonder what he’d punched to hurt himself.

Fred was crying.

You weren’t sure how to help him.

Standing up you looked down at him with a frown, gently cupping his cheek. Fred never would have thought of you as gentle, when you were younger.

“Why me?” you kept your voice soft, as if you were afraid of making him cry more.

“George always said I was too mean to you. And you were to me.” He wiped his eyes with his bandaged hand and moved from your touch. “Felt right to come here.”

With a flick of your wand, you summoned your first aid kit, and took his hand. You sat down beside him at the table and began to work on the damaged fingers. “It’d be awful stupid of you to fuck up your wand hand, Fred. I’ll curse it off of you if I think you’ll just ruin it.”

If you didn’t know better, and only listened to Fred’s voice you would have thought he was smiling at you.

“It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.”

There was another quip on your tongue, another sharp remark until you looked up and saw him giving you a teary smile. A proper one. One with loads of sharp remarks behind it. Little barbs that you could throw back at him full speed.

But a proper one nonetheless. One you’d never seen him show you before.

It only made you frown more.

“Fred. We can be friends, but it has to end at that. I’m your healer.”

The smile was gone like that, as if he felt violated that you’d read him so deep down into his soul. “Reckon I already knew that. You just said you wouldn’t shag me.”

Once again you felt comfortable. A friendly Fred wasn’t one you knew how to deal with. “It’s called standards Weasley. Can’t just put out for everyone. I’d be too tired for my morning shifts.”

Another first. You heard him laugh.

How strange. You knew how to patch him up, but lacked any common sense when it came to being friendly to him.

You chewed on your lip as you straightened yourself up, peering at your finished work. “What’s in the bag you brought?”

Like an afterthought, he grabbed it from the table and withdrew several small boxes loaded with pastries. “Mum wanted to thank you for healing me.”

While the smell was amazing, you couldn’t help but look at Fred with suspicion. “What’d you do to these?”

“Nothing.”

He was smiling at you again. It made the hairs on your arm raise up. “Why?”

“George told me to be nicer. I want to try.”

You broke off a piece of a hand pie and sniffed it, ignoring the snicker from Fred.

Something finally clicked. The reason that he’d come.

“It’s been a year, hasn’t it?”

Fred took a hand pie of his own, and nodded. A year since he last saw George breathing. Sweating and scared in the hospital bed next to his. A year since the screaming that didn’t seem to end for weeks and weeks.

“Yeah.” Fred had stopped smiling for you. You doubted you would see it for the rest of the night. “A year since he’s died.”

There was plenty you didn’t understand still. But things seemed to fall into place a bit more after that.

“Stay the night then. And know I’ll knock you out if you punch any of my walls.”

“So comforting.”

“You’re almost completely naked in my kitchen Weasley, be grateful I’m not making any comments about that.

“Fuck off, Y/N.”

“You first.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #my writing #fic; good points

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

10 Dates | The Confessions Date

Summary: Kim Junmyeon was the epitome of a perfect catch - he was successful, handsome and everything you currently didn’t want in a man. Yet after agreeing to his request to give him 10 dates in total to change your mind, you realised you might have been looking for someone like him all along.

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x reader

Genre: dating au / romance

Warnings: none

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

After a morning spent in bed exploring one another intimately, you had walked along the River Arno, tried delicious gelato, visited more museums and monuments than you could count on one hand and eaten your weight worth in Italian bread. Another evening was spent out until the night grew old, and the sheets in your bed were ruined by the morning. It was constant heaven and when you got into a rented car to travel to Florence for the rest of your stay in Tuscany, you had believed there was a high possibility that you had already died and this was the afterlife.

It was all too magical to comprehend otherwise.

And even with all your mental preparation, as soon as you saw the Duomo in the distance, you were a lost cause. “Junmyeon, I’m sorry in advance if I cease any type of expected etiquette from here on out.”

“That overwhelmed?” he asked as you gripped onto your seatbelt, your eyes round as saucers and breathing became harder to do naturally.

“I don’t think I prepared you well enough for the history buff within me,” you explained and vaguely heard him chuckle.

You couldn’t explain it. Being in the city with so much rich history and architecture, the birthplace of the Renaissance art movement, and the place of your dreams since you were a teenager, left you utterly speechless. You didn’t know what to look at first or if your brain could even store as much as you were pleading with it to do. The hotel you stayed in held no effect on you once you found the windows, opening them up and staring out at your current world dreamily.

You flinched when Junmyeon reached around you to offer you a drink of water. It made you blink a few times before taking it. He grinned when you finally looked at him. “I should be offering you something with bubbles right now. It might calm your nerves.”

“I’m really here, aren’t I?”

He nodded, rubbing your upper arm repeatedly and you shivered. Junmyeon put his glass down on the small tabletop before encasing you in his arms.

For a moment, even with the dazzling world you wanted to memorise inch by inch, you sighed with comfort into his embrace. Since becoming intimate with him, there was no place you enjoyed more than being buried in his chest. He was always so warm and listening to his heart worked enough to bring peace to your erratic system.

You glanced up at him and shared a grateful expression and a kiss before looking back outside. “I’m glad I’m seeing all this with you, Junmyeon. My friends Kelsi and Ayla aren’t into history like I am. Which is fine, I was going to come here by myself when the time was right. But being with you makes it all that much more special.”

“You better stop with all these beautiful words you keep sharing on this trip or I might go ahead and ruin it,” he told you, blinking a few times and then looked outside, away from your sudden gaze on him.

“Ruin it how?”

“With some little words that shouldn’t come out too early,” he admitted and you smiled giddily.

“What if they come from me first?”

“I’ll call your bluff.”

You gaped at the man and pulled back to arm’s length to pout at him. “Hey!”

“Tell me when we’re back home. This place is our current paradise and it makes everything seem amazing to us right now. Those types of words need to wait until we’re back in reality.”

You thought over his reasoning and nodded. He was right, it would be all too easy with being caught up in the moment to rush ahead and say things that weren’t needed just yet. Two months could easily be enough time for someone to fall in love, and the romantic within you was certainly gearing up for it.

However, the whole reason you were hesitant to date in the first place was from those past experiences. Once you had confessed to love in the past, it crumbled away, the illusion of your adoration replaced with reality. There was no love at all, at least, not the kind you were searching to capture you for the rest of your life.

It could wait until you returned home. Until months had gone by and this dizzying honeymoon period had eased off. That was the most logical.

Your heart yearned for a little more magic, however.

By the third day in Florence, logic had all but left you. You were surrounded by a world you had travelled only through textbooks. It was right before your eyes, tantalising your senses everywhere you looked, listened and touched. When you thought you couldn’t be further impressed, you would enter another museum, exhibition or monument and fall further in love with Italy.

And with the man at your side.

As you walked around the Boboli Gardens listening to the guide over the Medici history, you found yourself thinking more about your return home than taking in everything around you. You wondered how much it would hurt to come back down to reality, to wake up in your bed back home and no longer at Junmyeon’s side. Would you be satisfied with sending him off to his dreams each night with a simple farewell over the phone instead of a kiss? Would you still see much of him once you were both back at work and pursuing the next big project? You knew he wasn’t going to just disappear from your world but you had gotten a taste of what it was like to spend time with him and you weren’t quite ready to stop doing just that.

Smiling to yourself, you decided you didn’t care how hard it would get at times; you would balance having a relationship with him. You grew excited for the comfortable moments to come, the bickering, the mundane parts to dating someone. So far, you had nothing to see Junmyeon any less for. He had ticked all the boxes you hadn’t believed he would and then some.

The adventure wouldn’t end just because you weren’t in Italy anymore.

So, when you were back in the centre of the city, you stopped walking around the Fountain of Neptune in the Piazza della Signoria and turned to Junmyeon, reaching for his hand.

“I can’t wait.”

“For dinner?” he questioned, checking his watch. “Baby, we have about an hour until our reservation.”

You stilled at the use of the nickname, your heart swelling further. Junmyeon seemed to become aware of what he said, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly.

“Oh uh, I just said that.”

You grinned. “That you did.”

“You liked it,” he observed and you nodded quickly. A smile erased his hesitance and Junmyeon then beamed at you. “I know another secret about you.”

“I hardly would call that a secret. It’s a common nickname for a partner.”

He faltered. “Common. Maybe I need something better?”

“No,” you spoke firmly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love it… I love a lot about you.”

“You’re getting dangerously close to words we agreed we’d keep to ourselves, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to keep them anymore,” you announced, brushing your nose over his as you moved in towards his lips. “I can’t keep them to myself. I’m falling for you.”

“I’ve waited years for this,” he said softly and you blinked in confusion.

Years?

Junmyeon seemed lost in his thoughts. “I never expected you to say them so easily to me either.”

You tried to dismiss the moment. He’s meaning for a love like this. Not you specifically, you thought, still blinking in hope that would settle some of the way he had said it in your mind.

However, there was the unmistakable shift in his eyes, the same one you had seen back at his house, shrouding you from the knowledge he seemed to bear. You wished you hadn’t seen it. Been able to fool yourself into the sentence you told yourself, to hold onto those loving sentiments you both had shared.

Junmyeon knew you had seen it too and the confessions fell flat, straight into the fountain behind you, sinking like your heart was.

Was this the catch you had been waiting for unnervingly?

“Junmyeon,” you started, and watched as he moistened his lips in preparation of your heavy question. “What made you go on that first date with me?”

“The first date?” he repeated, trying to smile but it didn’t light up his eyes as it usually did. He was simply trying to buy time, figuring out his path forward. You implored him for an answer and after glancing around the bustling plaza, Junmyeon pointed to one of the alleys that would lead someplace perhaps quieter. You weren’t sure even away from all the people that your mind would silence, the buzz growing louder the longer you impatiently waited for his answer.

Eventually, he found a stone bench for you to sit down on, clasping his hands together as he looked at his feet. “It would have been much the same as it was for you.”

“Kelsi set me up with you. Her work colleague is friends with yours and showed your profile to her. I still don’t know why she put me forward instead of herself though,” you explained calmly despite the noise in your head. You closed your eyes, hoping it would settle it some. “Wasn’t it the same for you?”

“It was,” he stated slowly and then sighed. “It wasn’t the first time I was shown a person to go out on a date with.”

“Likewise.”

“Normally I would insist to Chanyeol that I was too busy to date because my career is in a pretty pivotal moment right now, if I’m honest. The last thing I needed was to start dating.”

Snapping your gaze to his side profile, you frowned. “Then why?”

“I couldn’t turn you down,” he answered, nodding along with his statement. Junmyeon’s eyes remained downcast and you wondered why he couldn’t look at you right now. What was so big that would make him feel less able to stare at you whilst he talked? His smile turned bittersweet. “Because I know you.”

“What? No, you don’t,” you corrected, your gaze narrowing on him. Finally, Junmyeon looked up, his expression sincere. “I really don’t-”

“We grew up in the same area and although we went to different high schools, I know you from back then.”

“How?”

“We did an interschool competition one year. You were on the history quiz team, remember?”

Your memories travelled back to a younger period in your life, growing clearer with the more thought you put into it. Junmyeon smiled again. “I was on the athletics team.”

Blinking some more, you tried to find the younger version of him in your memories but you came up blank. He seemed aware of this, nodding again.

“I don’t think you would remember me much. But I remember you.”

“Because of a high school competition, you decided to go on a date with me as adults? That’s nothing to be so concerned over; some might think that’s sweet.”

Junmyeon sighed heavily. “I liked you so much that I convinced a friend who I knew at your school to help me out. He gave me some pointers on how to approach you and then when it came time to, I was beaten to it.”

“Beaten?” you echoed and then sighed with realisation. “Do Kyungsoo.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” he confirmed with a light laugh, leaning back. “You dated him for what, a year?”

You were surprised he had known how long you dated for. Still, you shrugged. “Only for him to break it off when he said we weren’t compatible.”

“I had the biggest crush on someone I didn’t really know. I mean, I tried to know you. Once you meet someone, it becomes easy to see them everywhere. We have crossed paths in life, even as adults, multiple times before that date, you know.”

“Really?”

Junmyeon nodded. “I tried dating others but I guess the juvenile part of me who didn’t get the girl of my teenage dreams wasn’t satisfied. If it wasn’t you, I wasn’t interested.”

“Wow, you thought so highly of me,” you murmured, unsure of how to feel.

Should it be endearing? You felt a little uncomfortable thinking there had been moments in life where Junmyeon had watched you, had felt something for you and you had no idea he even existed.

“So when your picture crossed my desk, I thought maybe this was a sign. That’s why I agreed to the date. And then you politely turned me down. Was this what the universe had wanted me to understand all along?” Junmyeon wasn’t talking to you, but rather himself, perplexed over the concept. He then shook his head. “I couldn’t let you go this time. Not without trying. Which is why I came after you-”

“And suggested the ten dates,” you finished and Junmyeon nodded.

“But here we are in Italy, enjoying each other and our dream. Yours is the place and mine is… well, I guess, it’s you.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you would be considering I’m aware how this must sound to you.”

“It is a lot to take on,” you admitted, chewing on your lip.

“I’ve been honest about my approach this whole time, Y/N.”

“Except when you acted like it was your first meeting with me.”

“Well it was, I had only liked you from afar.”

“Maybe it’s best we leave it in the past,” you stated, standing up and inhaling a deep breath.

Junmyeon didn’t join you. “Don’t you have something to say too?”

“Me?”

“Your friends coming on that second date wasn’t a coincidence.”

“That was innocent, simply a backup plan.”

“You said yes to ten dates but wanted to ensure you could find a way out if I didn’t present well?” he surmised and you nodded.

“I didn’t know what to think back then about you. I didn’t think we matched, remember?”

Junmyeon stood up and held out his hand for yours. “Can we go back to smiling and having a good time? We have only one day left in Italy. The truths we’ve confessed to, let’s navigate them back home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, slipping your hand into his waiting one.

It didn’t feel the same as before.

_________________

Part 8

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