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lavendertales · 3 years

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Cyare: Chapter 4

pairing: Mand’alor!Din Djarin x Mandalorian!f!reader with name

summary: Mando has his first one on one fight with you and it awakens something in both of you that you try to brush off, but to no avail.

word count: 3.5k

A/N: now we’re getting into the good stuff.

gif: @bestintheparsec

series masterlist | AO3

Concordia is not quite what Mando had expected.

It was serene with its green forests and proud mountains, almost like a feverish dream one can have in the middle of the night. It felt soothing to walk through the forest and simply admire it, and it was easy for the notion that there once lived a terrorist group to slip the mind as you walk through the emerald land.

You lead the way again, mostly because Mando is occupied admiring his surroundings for what feels like the first time since his childhood and he’s dissecting your name into tiny fragments, trying to assign them to something relevant. It’s mind-boggling, really; his insides twitch whenever he thinks of your name, and he can’t help but feel as if he knows you. He’s heard the name before for sure. He just can’t visualize anything.

Perhaps the years he spent as a bounty hunter were catching up with him and gutting him in unexpected ways.

When you finally stop, Mando realizes he’s facing a large establishment with many houses and many different species: Twi’leks, humans, porgs, and even a few Mandalorians. Mando is less and less surprised now whenever he sees Mandalorians without their helmets and gradually warms up to the idea that the Way had been tainted in his mind since he was a child. He’s learning to accept it and – he starts to hope, even, that one day he might follow in their footsteps and live his life as they do as well. Though he knows in his heart he is not ready yet, he clings to the hope.

“Seems like a populated camp,” he remarks.

“It is. There’s many creatures trying to live a decent life and we, as Mandalorians, want everyone to get the same choice. Peace is the only option here.”

Mando mentally thanks the Maker for that because the idea of another war, another fight, at least for the time being, is devouring him alive. Yet he fears there will come a day, as you had warned him, when others will want to take their fake claim to the Mandalore throne.

He gains a few looks from the others as he walks by your side, but you on the other hand, pay no one any mind. The mass seems more than acquainted with your presence, and Mando soon comes to realize that he is the outsider. And it’s not any news: he’s always been a misfit in any setting aside from the Tribe. Tribe which had been long destroyed, but alas, he dares believe he might find his place there. After all, he’s technically their ruler already. All he has to do is sit on the throne and claim it as his own.

You snap him out of his many intrusive thoughts and present him a very clean and fashionable suite. “This is yours.”

Mando takes a quick look around, astonished and grateful all at once.

“Thank you. Very kind of you to offer lodging.”

“How can we not? Anything for the king.”

It still makes his stomach churn and cringe, despite your clearly ironic tone, but luckily he cannot reveal anything visually other than through the rigidity of his body.

“Do any of those people or creatures know I’m—?” he begins.

You throw him a look which doesn’t really clarify anything, but it also does and so Mando doesn’t bother asking any additional questions.

“You’re the only Mandalorian covered from head to toe they’ve seen,” you reply. “It’s gotta raise some eyebrows and questions. They know something is happening. They know change is upon us.”

“No pressure, right?”

You smile for a split second and then wipe it off as if afraid of something. “Anyway, my suite is next door. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Mando nods shortly and that’s when you smirk. “Ready to fight?”

Again he nods, since he cannot think of anything more appropriate as a response, and again he follows you. He is so used to being a lone wolf and doing everything on his own, at his own pace, that he doesn’t really know what possesses him to walk in your shadow so obediently. But he does it nonetheless, recognizing the fact that you were more in the know than him, and that he needed you and your expertise.

Though when it comes to weapons and fighting, how much better could you be than him? He dares think.

He walks behind you in a large yard surrounded by hard wire. Judging by the looks of it, it’s a place designed specifically for battle and the more Mando looks at it, the more he’s convinced of it. There are random weapons in a corner and pieces of armor to be replaced in case of need.

You advance further and tie your hair up in a ponytail, removing your belt along with the knives and blaster you carry. When you’re done, you turn to Mando and offer a rather coy smile, anticipatory.

“Take it off,” you say.

Astounded, Mando doesn’t make any move at first. He’s not sure why he’s double checking the reality he’s in or what he’s thinking about. He’s never done it before. He gulps and remains still.

Just how bare do you expect him to be?

“The weaponry, Mando,” you clarify yet another one of his mental debates.

He’s reluctant to do so, but something compels him to follow your instructions closely. As he’s removing the saber, the beskar spear and the holster, he steals quick glances at you from underneath the helmet, thankful that it is cocked in a position which wouldn’t betray his real intent.

“Why are we doing this?”

“You can’t always rely on weapons.”

“Weapons are part of my—our religion.”

“They are. But they’re objects. They can’t always help you. However, your instincts can. And if you think you can cheat and use your whistling birds or the flamethrower, I will kick you into the ground.”

Mando’s pride kicks in, screaming loudly and eagerly, ready to prove himself at last.

“I’d like to see you try,” he fires back.

Pleasantly surprised, you raise your brows and smile, though there’s nothing friendly about that smile. No, that is one meant to intimidate and excite and it works its devilish charm on Mando. He clenches his fists and steadies his right foot further in the front than his left one as he waits. You, on the other hand, only copy the alignment of his feet whereas your hands remain relatively relaxed. The silence feels both forced and needed simultaneously. For what feels like forever, you don’t move and neither does Mando; both wait for the other to make a move and neither yields. It begins to feel like a bet, whoever makes the first move shall lose.

But what was there for Mando to lose anymore?

The last thing he sees before the rest is your smile. It’s evil in a sense, but also warm and inviting, and it manages to weaken him for a second. But before he can sink into the feeling it brings to him, unexpected and bizarre, you ball up your gloved fist and whack him in his belly, slightly above his belt. He grunts and retaliates by kicking you in the arm, distracting you for a bit. He then comes up behind you and immobilizes both your arms with one hand, the other used to sneak around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to let you know he’s in charge. You breaths come out ragged, but unbeknownst to him you smile again.

“Not a bad move, Mando,” you grin. “But it’s not enough.”

You kick him with your elbow in his crotch and Mando lets you go, grunting in pain. You take the opportunity to balance your weight on your right foot and to swing your left one in his shin, kicking him on the ground. But Mando takes you by surprise and grabs your ankles, forcing you to clash on the ground next to him. The next second he’s on top of you, but you don’t give him enough time to get adjusted and you apply pressure on his stomach again, this time with your boot, and you flip him over so that you’re on top of him, legs on either sides of his torso.

Underneath the helmet, Mando struggles to breathe but to also take in the image; he does get bested a lot in battles, but this time is something else entirely. You stare him down, chest rising up and down from the effort and face glowing with pride. And before he knows it, Mando’s hands travel from his side to your boots and slightly up your legs, tantalizingly slow and barely daring to graze the surface, and the beskar is unwelcoming against his gloves. His fingers barely touch your legs and yet he gulps, insecure and overwhelmed for whatever reason.

You don’t say anything, and neither does he. Instead, all you do is stare him down and you begin to feel the pent up soreness and tightness in his body as you help each other back up and resume your fighting for the next couple of hours. There are others passing by the improvised arena, occasionally stopping by to admire the show, but neither one of you pay them any attention. You keep throwing random types of hits at him and he reacts accordingly. He ducks and dodges as best as he can, and so do you, but sometimes you fall, other times he falls. It’s a very well balanced fight, as if both of you completing in each other in some sort of way. And the more you keep going, the less pain you feel.

But eventually you go for a direct punch, right in his helmet, and Mando stops your fist midair. He does the same with your other hand, keeping your first in the palm of his hand, and you stare through him, trying to make something of the man behind the beskar. The rush you get, the aching sensation feels like some sort of distorted and forbidden ecstasy that frightens you on a certain level.

So you pull back.

“Not bad at all,” you tell him.

You still feel the aftershock of that moment, exhaustion taking its toll on you. It’s pressuring and it tramples down on you, so you distance yourself more from him.

“You did well. Considering… no weapons at all.”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad either.”

His voice sounds kinda dismembered and shallow, and you know for a fact he’s felt that bizarre little thing as well. Except—

Except it wasn’t little, not one bit.

Damn, it was magnetic through the smallest of gestures.

“What happens now?” he asks.

You’re stumped. Half of the day went by just like that and now the sun is setting. The rays bounce on both your and Mando’s armor, creating playful influxes of light that are simply mesmerizing. You feel the need to back up some more and eventually you clear your throat, wearing the same unbothered look on your face.

“We should… get something to eat,” you murmur.

“I’m starving.”

Mando’s accentuation on the last word makes your stomach churn for unknown reasons, so you give him a head start and allow him the space to grab his weapons again as you walk away as fast as you can. The wheels inside your head start spinning furiously and you can’t help but feel a mass in your throat, preventing you from breathing properly.

You’re just a little worn out, that’s all. You’re just tired. It’s been a long day.

It’s been a long day, that’s all.

You stop by the kitchens, and the scent invades your nostrils, making your mouth water. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until that very moment.

Starving.

“Is the Mandalorian covered from head to toe your new friend?”

The tiny voice makes you turn around all too fast, but you smile instantly at the sight of one of the foundlings, Aayla. You lean down and hand her a plate of the meat and vegetables.

“He’s—a student.”

“Isn’t he too old to learn?”

“No one’s ever too old to learn.”

“Why does he wear a helmet all the time?”

You take a deep breath, hesitating. “You had a lot of time to observe him, didn’t you?”

Aayla smiles proudly, her infant smile showing and for a moment it warms you up, reminding you of why you chose to take care of many of the foundlings.

“He shares a different belief, and we have to respect that,” you tell her ultimately.

“Okay. Is he a nice man?”

“He is. But don’t get him upset.”

Aayla chuckles and rushes off to sit at the table with the rest of the children. You return to the food and place it on two plates, carrying them out to your—and Mando’s—apartment. You’re about to knock, but you stop, frozen. You hear the water running and it doesn’t take you long to do the math. Realistically, you could be of upmost kindness and simply go inside and leave the tray there.

But the risk of exposure is too great and you know Mando is not ready to surrender his beliefs. He might never be, despite his visible disgust at the realization of what he truly belonged to. You recall your own struggle in your journey to accept the reality and you know better than anyone how painful the process can be.

So you leave the tray at his door and go to your own suite, surrounding yourself with nothing but silence. Earsplitting, aching silence.

One by one, you remove the beskar from your body, leaving only the undergarments and you dive into your meal. Your mind slowly begins to function at the highest of speeds as you replay the fight with Mando, breaking it down into pieces to be analyzed. There was nothing to analyze, you push. It was just another fight, another training you provided someone with. That was your purpose. To train and to prepare. Although… as much as you would like to ignore and deny, you cannot let yourself forget the boldness of the simple moment when Mando had his hold over your legs, how gentle and shy his hands traveled a bit north, as if tempted to explore. You cannot let yourself forget the familiarity of the sensation, the electric mini shocks traveling all through you. Perhaps it is just something nice your brain chooses to focus on. Mandalorians are not exactly targets for soft, gentle touches. They are targets in general, hunters and prey alike, and every touch on their body is merely meant to harm or kill.

A shiver runs down your spine and you decide it’s best to bury that memory at the back of your mind after all. What good would it do to you if you dissect every single thing and take it out of its rightful context?

None. Absolutely none.

The soft knock on your door manages to startle you and you clear your throat, munching further on the food before answering with a shaky “Come in”.

The Mandalorian himself enters your private quarters, still in his armor, now seemingly polished and cleaned as well. You frown at first.

“I wanted to thank you for the food,” he says, his voice like velvet.

“Of course. Did you actually eat it?”

“Yes.”

You make eye contact with him – or so you like to think – and again a shiver travels south in your body, burning you up in unexpected ways and regions.

“You know, you don’t have to wear the armor all the time,” you tell him. “You have no enemies here.”

“You can never know.”

You chuckle, resonating all too well with his statement. And truth be told, it took you a long enough time to embrace the Way and what it meant in actuality, so you could not place any kind of blame on him.

“I would’ve invited you to join me for dinner, but—“

Mando says nothing. He’s contemplating, thinking endlessly. It feels as if he has been living solely in his own mind lately and everything that came out of his mouth was a perfect exemplification of that. He had become increasingly concerned and with every new piece of information, his mind only grew heavier, as did his conscience. He was among strangers now, with the only person he had a mild good feeling about being you.

Amara.

He heard that name before, many years ago, but it’s been so long that Din begins to consider the fact he had imagined it. Time flew by fast, but at the same time, painfully slow. There are parts of his life which he could easily deem as pertaining strictly to his imagination, and being a practical being, he wants to focus on what is tangible, on what he can see and touch.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He was mid-combat, clearly in disadvantage, and—he has no clue what propelled him to react in that way. Why, Maker, why did his hands do that… thing? It wasn’t even as if he was about to grab your ankles and push you over. Even that might have been justifiable. Was it just a momentary lack of judgement? Maybe. But he feels utterly bad for that bizarre reaction.

And yet, he does not apologize.

He looks at you munching on your food, peacefully so, without having any clue what is going on inside your head, and he lets himself believe you want to brush off the incident. Maybe you hadn’t even noticed.

How could you not though?

So he says nothing about it. And neither do you.

“Listen, if you… ever decide to take the helmet off normally… you can do it here. It’s a safe place,” you remind him.

Mando hesitates for a moment. He recalls taking his helmet off, months ago, only for him to bid Grogu farewell, and then having his friends see him as well, thus breaking his Creed for a second time. And now, to learn that he could do it safely without consequences… it was too much. Nothing felt safe anymore.

“I understand,” he answers mechanically. “Thank you.”

You nod and he turns to leave, but his gut tells him not to. Not yet.

“Amara.”

Upon hearing your name spoken in that soft, velvety voice, you turn to him, waiting for the follow-up which fails to arrive. You approach him, brows furrowed as Mando seems to have some internal struggle.

“Yes…?” you eventually say.

“What’s your full name?”

Mando manages to surprise you with that question. You’re not sure why he would need that kind of information, but you also don’t want to disclose personal things about yourself. You think your first name is more than enough, and you want him to go along with it. For now, at least. After all, the entire point of you meeting him was to prepare him to be a ruler, not to talk about yourself.

Your smile is somewhat smug and shy simultaneously and it causes Mando to gulp underneath the helmet.

“Why?” you ask, crossing your arms at your chest.

Mando shrugs, offering no verbal clarification.

“Unless you need it to run some background check, I doubt you’ll need it.”

“I don’t work with people I don’t trust.”

“You mentioned that. But I don’t see how my full name would increase my chances of being trusted by you. I could give you a fake one and you wouldn’t even know.”

“You could, but that wouldn’t be of use in the long-term.”

“What is this? We’re not negotiating anything here.”

Mando hesitates again, not particularly willing to disclose the real reason behind his question. You might not take him seriously; you might laugh, you might kick his ass into the ground, who was to say.

“I thought your name sounded familiar,” he does clarify after all. “That’s all.”

You frown again, followed by a tiny chuckle. You tilt your head in the slightest, some leftover reflex from the days when you wore your helmet obsessively, and stare at Mando’s silhouette. There is nothing familiar about him right now, and you just know you’ve never met this man before in your life. You would’ve surely remembered that kind of voice and attitude.

But then… why did his touch feel that way? Why was the only thing comforting and familiar about him his touch through the fabrics?

“I don’t have an exactly unique name, so,” is all you can say.

Mando nods once, shortly, and leaves you to rest. The moment the door is closed, you lock it and huff out loud, already knowing you wouldn’t be getting much sleep. You’re absolutely exhausted, but not even from the physical effort you put in that day.

It is everything but that.

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the-lady-amphitrite · 2 years

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— A FAIRYTALE BEGINNING | chapter 6

fate weavers

pairing: Loki /f!half-Asgardian!Reader word count: 5,961 summary: the Weavers of Fate come to Asgard, following the will of Yggdrasil and unveiling godhoods in this chapter: very slight/brief anxiety allusion, two (2) allusions to a loss of time (plot-related), friendly sparring with Loki, Volstagg, & Thor, the Weavers of Fate show up author notes: started writing this. had a breakdown and rewrote it twice. bone apple teeth. also it’s summer and my body wages war with me over having to go outside in 30c+ weather. also also, the earlier chapters got more edits applied + some small additions of text because while i couldn’t write i could edit and the goblins in my brain decided i needed to change some stuff. it’s mostly minor; punctuation, how things were worded, and how things were broken up, and an additional 1k words because i added stuff back in that i took out in the final drafts. and yeah, i also ended up splitting them apart because i decided i liked them apart and should have listened to myself before. enjoy! if you’re interested in reading about the lore and its inspirations, i’ve updated the endnotes of each chapter on ao3 to include a lot of it!

( previous chapter | read on ao3 | series masterlist )

@ladydracona

You’re on your way out of geography class the following day — Loki and Volstagg just ahead of you, all of you headed to the sparring grounds for your afternoon tactics and weaponry lessons — when Lady Yrsa calls out for you to come to her desk.

You pause for a moment, looking at your tall, grey-toned Ice Elf geography tutor as everyone but your friends file out of the room. Worry crawls its way up your throat as you try to discern why she’s stopped you.

Loki would have turned in your essay since you were running late after being invited to take your lunch with a few of you conflagration (they’d been so interesting to talk to that you had had a hard time prying yourself away for your geography lesson), so that couldn’t be it. You’d been quiet outside of the open discussion part of the class as Lady Yrsa preferred, so that couldn’t be it either. You hadn’t done anything to disturb anyone else in the class—

Oh. Perhaps Lady Yrsa had noticed you, Loki, and Volstagg passing a note back and forth for the better part of the class. Though, wouldn’t she have called all three of you over for that?

“Yes, Lady Yrsa?” you ask tentatively.

Your tutor steps around from her desk, hands behind her back as she approaches. She looks positively jaunty as she stops a few paces away, making you feel even more baffled as to why she called you over. One of her hands comes from behind her back, and she hands over several bound parchment sheets you take without question. Staring down at the top sheet, you realise it’s your essay.

And then you see — despite it being late — the high mark she’d given you and the commentary flowing down the side of the front page.

Lengthy and on-target response…complexity…fluent syntax and vocabulary…cohesive…

When had she had time to not only read this but to grade it? You hadn’t been that late to the lesson, and she had spent most of it walking back and forth at the front as she normally did.

“Delightful work as always, Lady Kárudóttir.” Lady Yrsa’s compliment breaks you from your confounded thoughts, and you look up at her to see a delighted smile. You duck your head, letting a smile dance over your lips. You thank her softly before excusing yourself to catch up to your friends at the door.

Once the three of you are out of the room, you head towards the nearest lift that will take you to the ground floor. You follow behind, staring down at your essay again.

Loki falls back, leaning over your right shoulder to look at what you had scored while Volstagg does the same to your left.

“Well done, cousin,” Volstagg praises, clapping a hand on your back. “You managed to impress an elf about her own realm.”

“Lady Yrsa is an Ice Elf from Bjallaríki, far to the north of Andlàngr and its Light Elves. The two kingdoms are very different from one another, and so are the two people who inhabit them,” you tell Volstagg automatically as you manoeuvre the essay into your geography textbook. The three of you step onto an empty lift, and Volstagg slaps the button telling it where to go. After a few moments, it begins its descent toward the ground floor.

“Elf’s an elf,” Volstagg replies with a shrug.

“Don’t be rude, cousin.” You smack his arm gently with your textbook. “Some of them are gods themselves.”

“Lady Yrsa is one of them,” Loki interjects, glancing over at your cousin. “She’s a land goddess. Not well skilled in understanding the life that inhabits the terrain she’s on or its general makeup, but she’s proven to be highly skilled at shifting it.”

Volstagg makes a humming noise. You’re certain he’s going to say something else, but to your surprise, he changes the subject. “So our sparring today. Are we still doin’ a game of two-on-two, or are we asking a few of the trainees to do a little first-and-last with us?”

Wait. What?

You and Loki have to tend to Frigga’s garden with her after your weaponry lesson. You’d agreed to possibly reschedule your two-on-two to tomorrow when you will have time after your last lesson of the day. Who had even talked with Volstagg? You hadn’t spoken of it during your geography lesson, so one of the princes would have had to ask him while you weren’t around.

“Two-on-two. We can do first-and-last after if everyone is agreeable and we find the extra hands to compete with us,” Loki replies without hesitation, confusing you even more. Noting your confusion, Loki says, “We will be joining Mother after our sparring.”

“Oh,” you say. Then — remembering the last time you had played first-and-last — you smirk and say, “Are you sure you’re up for a little first-and-last? I wouldn’t want to cause a scandal about you and poor Baldr if we play. Considering how fast the two of you lost last time...”

“You and Thor tripped me,” Loki bemoans, his head falling back as you remind him. You can’t help the high, cackling-laugh that comes out at his reaction.

First-and-last is a game that you don’t remember the origin of, but it’s one that you’ve been enjoying with your friends and various einherjar and valkyrjur over the last year now.

The game itself only has one goal: don’t be the first or last person out of the designated ring. Every game begins with an agreement on a bet or task to be completed, and the first and last people out have to fulfil it. As long as serious harm isn’t done, weapon choice doesn’t matter, and team-ups are allowed (though usually who someone teams up with is more important than the fact they have at all).

With the introduction of tactics and weaponry training as part of your daily afternoon schedule over the last few months, games have gotten more frequent. Consequently, the bets have also become more chaotic and reckless.

The last game (the one Baldr and Loki had lost) had resulted in Loki being blindfolded while shooting an apple off the top of Baldr’s head.

The arrow had gone through Baldr’s forearm, and he’d been out of training for a few days while his arm healed. Loki had told you that he’d been scolded by his father for it, but he had shrugged it off as he told you with his usual, easy grin.

“And you tried to use my own cousin against me!” You knock your hip against Loki with a smile. He’s quick to knock his hip against you in return.

“Fair is fair, darling. No rules were broken.” Loki winks at you. You playfully narrow your eyes at him, though your smile gives away that you’re teasing him.

“We’ll see about fair is fair when I get both of your brothers to team up with me to knock you out of the ring first,” you coo.

Volstagg laughs, reminding you of his presence. “Aye, and we’ll see how well you fare when I team up with your friend here to toss you out, little dragon.”

You turn to your cousin, mouth agape in shock. For a moment, you find yourself at a loss for words before teasing him with, “You would dare turn on me again, Volstagg? After all we have done together and gone through?”

“Loki makes good bargains!” Volstagg protests, trying to defend himself.

“There’s no bargain he can be making that is that good, Lion.”

“I will continue to hold to my word if you help me once more, Volstagg,” Loki interjects, looking past you to your cousin.

Your cousin hums, stroking his chin as he looks at you before his hand drops, and he nods his head. “You have yourself a deal, Your Highness.”

You turn back to Loki, asking, “And what have you given your word about that convinces my own beloved cousin to turn on me both times?”

“Something important,” he answers coyly when he looks at you, a self-satisfied smirk dancing on his lips. Before you can inquire further, the lift stops and your best friend slips out ahead of you and your cousin.

You roll your eyes, setting off after him with speedy steps, trying (and failing) to keep up as you yell after him to answer you while he continues to evade answering.

When the three of you arrive at the training grounds, you’ve given up on trying to get him to reveal whatever he said to Volstagg. You finally catch up to him halfway across the outer courtyard of the training facility, jumping at his back to try and hold on while (possibly, but lovingly) annoying him into answering.

He’d anticipated the move (because of course he had. He’s your best friend, you’ve known each other nearly half of your life at this point.), and while you’re in the air he swings around, hands empty, catching you by the waist and then throwing you over his shoulder.

You shriek with laughter at the unexpected movement. You are (effectively) trapped.

You haven’t mastered transporting items into a dimensional pocket yet, so now you’re stuck holding on to your textbook and your school bag, the latter of which has slipped off your shoulder and is hanging on your forearm.

You plead with Volstagg to take your things, but your courage-hearted cousin merely chuckles at your sudden predicament and steadfastly declines. In retaliation, you teasingly called him a traitor with a smile on your face and laughter in your words.

You don’t try asking, pleading, or demanding with Loki to put you down. Your best friend can be unfailingly stubborn at times, especially when it comes to teasing you in whatever form he can manage.

He’s a bit older, a bit stronger, so you know that (with the grip he has on your ankles and around your thighs) you’re not going to be able to wiggle free unless you want to end up nearly smashing your head on the flagstones. Again. So you prop one elbow on Loki’s shoulder, glare at your cousin, and ignore any of the einherjar or valkyrjur who might be watching.

When Loki reaches the top of the stands that descends into the large arena, he carefully sets you back on your feet. He’s still smirking at you and then, without a word, quickly makes his way down the stairs. You roll your eyes, and then you and Volstagg follow the Asgardian prince down, dropping your textbook and school bag alongside the ones your classmates dropped when they arrived earlier.

Your arrival is greeted by Thor (who — instead of the Geography of the Realms of Yggdrasil class the three of you take — spends his time shadowing your father to learn about commanding the einherjar), Hallr, Steinnar, and several other young einherjar trainees.

You don’t get to dawdle for long before the four Einherjar generals appear. Quietly, you run their names and positions through your mind. A habit you partake in every time you arrive for tactics or weaponry lessons.

General Týr, your father, general for all of Asgard’s forces outside of the Valkyrjur who the Dísir commands. He’d taken over the position after his father — your grandfather — Hymir had left for Valhalla. You know him to be kind, someone who listens. He’s like that for his einherjar too, making sure they are all attended to and given leave when needed. He cares for those under his command, similar to how he cares for his family.

General Ullr, the general for the ulfheðnar, Asgard’s elite scouting corps. He’s the bow god currently, but also a god of the hunt. It’s what makes him so good at leading the ulfheðnar, how he knows the perfect ulfheðinn to carry out a task when the army is campaigning to protect one of the Nine Realms. He’s just as fierce in battle when the wolf-frenzy takes hold of the ulfheðnar.

General Jósteinn, the general for the einherjar, Asgard’s army and the guardians of the realm. He’s a war god, blessed with true-strike for his enemies on the battlefield so that he may never miss.

General Hjǫrdís, the general for the berserkir. She’s the latest goddess to hold the title and holds the honour of being your father’s right-hand, someone he trusts and listens to. In spite of her position as general of the berserkir, she’s far more calculating than brash; you’ve seen her go toe-to-toe with both your father and General Ullr without being in a bear-frenzy and still hold them off.

You quickly scan the rest of the arena for signs of the other five generals, especially the general of the gǫltmǫttull, Asgard’s trackers. You don’t see any of them, though you do spot two of the Dísir on the other half of the arena with their Valkyrjur.

The four Einherjar generals walk over, speaking lowly among one another. When they get within earshot, whatever conversation they were having is ceased. Both General Ullr and your father greet your small group quickly (and your father gives you a quick smile and nod when he has your attention) before they depart; General Jósteinn trails along with them without a word or glance at any of you, leaving your class with General Hjǫrdís.

The darker-skinned goddess looks over all of you, her hands folded behind her back while she smiles at all of you. Her dark grey armour is a contrast to the lighter silver-toned armour and capes that the other generals — besides General Stígandr of the gǫltmǫttull — wear.

“Welcome back to class, everyone,” she greets.

In unison, your class replies with, “Thank you, General Hjǫrdís.”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

An hour later, your tactics lesson ends, and you move straight into weaponry training.

You’re quickly taken aside to work on your archery skills by General Ullr along with Hallr, Baldr, and one of the Asgardian boys from the Fourth Level class.

Despite also having tactics at the same time, Baldr and his Third Level classmates are taught by General Jósteinn instead of General Hjǫrdís. They’re farther along in their studies, and by the time your Second Level class graduates to learning from General Jósteinn, Baldr’s will move on to one of the other Einherjar generals.

Weaponry training is longer than tactics and split into different sections. Without being broken into different classes by age, this is the time your class (minus Amora and Lorelei who refused) mingles with Baldr’s and the class above his. All together, it only adds up to twelve Asgardians total between the three, yours being the largest.

Gathering a bow to train with, you run through short drills with the others under General Ullr’s instructions.

You and Hallr breeze through each drill, thanks to your affinity and his godnaming. Baldr keeps pace with the two of you, even without an affinity for weapons and godnaming that is tied to lightwaves. His skills though are borne of relentless training beneath the guidance of one of the best archers in the Nine Realms. The other godling (Brynjarr) struggles to keep up with the three of you — not surprising since his affinity isn’t related to bows or weapons in general.

You enjoy these drills, but you remember when you first began. How you struggled with wielding any of the bows they handed you during that first lesson.

General Ullr had ended up stopping you, pulling you aside briefly to tell you (not unkindly), “Lady Kárudóttir you do not need to push yourself so hard for an affinity you do not possess. With time and training, you can learn to use them to protect those around you, much as Prince Baldr has. Much as your father also did. Do you understand, my lady?”

The archery god had walked away without another word, leaving you with tense shoulders and a frustrated expression. After a few moments, you’d stalked back over to the line of targets, pulling an arrow from the quiver at your waist. You’d aimed it, wavered for a moment.

You needed this skill. You needed to learn how to wield a bow. You were young, but you wanted to learn so you can protect the ones you care for when war returns to the Nine Realms. Whether the enemy came from within the branches of Yggdrasil or beyond, it didn’t matter.

I will protect the ones I love however I can. To the golden halls of Valhalla, if I must, you had thought. You loosed the arrow.

It hit the bullseye.

You’d grinned and then heard General Ullr shout out an instruction to do it again. Nocking a new arrow you’d repeated your words to yourself.

You’d shot it, splitting the previous arrow.

General Ullr had you try out different bows, different arrows, targets of different ranges; your affinity for bows had been declared that day, the general himself pleased to be the one to do it.

He couldn’t answer if it was true-strike, or if you would be declared a bow goddess by the Weavers of Fate when they arrived to grant it, but it hadn’t mattered to you. And when your aim faltered, all you did was remind yourself that you were doing this to protect your loved ones in the future.

In your mind, there was no other choice.

Later, when your drills with General Ullr are over, your father calls you over to the sparring rings. You’re ten feet away when he (without looking) tosses a weapon at you, and — on reflexes borne of him doing this just often enough for them to develop — you catch it.

It’s a mánablað, a shorter polearm not too dissimilar from a short spear save for the long curved blade that tops it. You plant the steinenda — the heavy metal knob at the bottom of the shaft — on the ground once you’re standing next to him.

The entire mánablað is just under two metres long total from blade tip to steinenda, the blade atop it a half metre long. This one is specifically for training, so instead of having an uru blade affixed to the top, this one has a wooden blade made of ironwood from the forests of Svartálfaheimr. Still strong and difficult to break, but not something that will generally cause fatal injuries if wielded wrong.

“Volstagg tells me that you challenged the princes to another two-on-two,” Týr says casually, not taking his eyes off of Steinarr and Erik (one of Baldr’s classmates) as they spar against one another.

“Yes, Father,” you say. You had adopted the more formal address for him once you began these lessons, but you only use it while you’re out here. At home, among friends, and when he’s clearly your father and not General Týr, you still call him Babba.

“Good. Then you will do so now so you will not be delayed for the All-Mother’s lesson.” Týr calls the other three over, instructing the four of you to get in the other sparring ring.

Suddenly it strikes you that he’s handed you the mánablað to spar with. You’re not concerned about your ability to wield it (not with your weapons affinity), but you are curious about the choice of weapon your father has made for you in regards to this match.

You lay the mánablað shaft against your shoulder and step into the ring, moving to the opposite side with Volstagg. Thor and Loki take up their positions on the other side. Thor holds a training axe at his side, one similar to Járnbjǫrn but with the same ironwood blade as your mánablað. Loki has a training sword — a little on the shorter side than you’d expect him to wield, yet he seems perfectly at ease holding it. Volstagg has a training battle-axe in both hands, the only one of the four of you who looks like you’re about to fight.

The moment your father yells out “Begin!” you explode across the ring, swinging the steinenda of the mánablað around at Thor to try and bash him on his left calf.

He takes the hit. Knee bending with the impact, he swings his axe up, and you dodge out of the way. He lunges forward and you’re forced into catching the blade of his axe on the curved blade of your mánablað.

Thor is so much stronger than you; you grit your teeth as he presses forward, attempting to overpower you and (quite possibly) break your mánablað.

You drop in a controlled fall onto your back, letting his momentum propel him into you as you use your feet to send him hurtling over you and onto his back as you flip back onto your feet.

You know how Thor fights, know that he will be on his feet in seconds and rushing to press his advantage with your back to him. An axe is better in close combat than a mánablað, after all.

You hear the thud of his footfalls between the sounds of Loki and Volstagg’s weapons clashing against one another. You turn, falling to one knee, one hand out for balance and the other holding near the end of the mánablað, swinging the weapon at Thor. The blow lands, the wooden blade leaving a small, shallow cut across his bicep.

“First blood!” Your father yells out as Thor rushes past and you lurch to your feet. You take a step back in the direction of where Loki and Volstagg are still sparring, watching the thunder godling for a second. You glance at your friend and cousin — a mistake.

In what feels like the second after your gaze drifts from the middle prince, you’re suddenly knocked off your feet and sent rolling several feet across the ring. Using the momentum, you twist yourself into a crouched position. You hold your mánablað before you, hand close to the blade and ready to defend yourself.

Thor quickly recognises his mistake in not charging after you.

You bounce up, using your greater agility to dash over to where your cousin is.

Loki is distracted by fending off Volstagg’s heavy blows. You use it to your advantage, sweeping your mánablað up to knock his sword away from connecting with Volstagg’s arm before you plant a solid kick against his side.

The dark-haired prince spins, following the line of your kick and allowing it to propel him rather than knock him over. He cocks his head at you, a silent query asking what you’re planning.

You and Volstagg stand back-to-back, weapons at the ready. Your cousin quips, “’Bout time you showed up. How was your little nap?”

“I made first blood, so I’d say absolutely refreshing,” you tell him with a grin. The two of you push apart; you dart towards Loki, and Volstagg charges for Thor. Behind you, you hear the crashing sound of weapons coming against each other.

Instead of crashing into your friend, you twist around him the moment you get right outside of the reach of his sword, the two of you beginning an elaborate dance. He slashes, parries, dodges; you duck, block, thrust. Sword versus mánablað. Mánablað versus sword.

You know that Loki is trying to wear you down, using the knowledge that — if he gets close enough — your ability to play offence disappears. The mánablað is not a close combat weapon; you’ve gotten inside the reach of a mánablað before to disarm opponents.

You know Loki can do the same to you.

So you do your best to stay far enough away that he has to chase after you if he wants to disarm you. It becomes more than sparring, more than a dance, as you sink into the part of you that rises only during training. The piece of you that (perhaps) is a war goddess.

You end up locked in a side-by-side with Volstagg, dancing to the left and right of your cousin as you parry blows that come too close to hitting him while trying to land your own.

Breathe in, and breathe out, you remind yourself as you deflect another slash from Thor.

You swing up. Catch the weapon along the curved underside of its head with the curved part of your own.

His weapon goes sailing in the air. He steps back quickly and you follow. Your blade swings back down. Stops against the side of his throat.

Your father yells out, “Combat ends with a draw!”

You look behind you.

Loki has managed in your brief absence to (somehow) slip behind your cousin and put his sword-blade against the side of Volstagg’s neck. Volstagg has turned his weapon into a leaning stick, resting his arms against the top of the battle-axe as he smiles. There’s a disgruntled look to it, but you don’t get to put much thought into it as a hand claps down on your shoulder.

“My friend, that was excellent!” Thor booms. Your attention returns to the prince as you pull your weapon from his neck, turning the mánablað so the shaft rests against your shoulder once more.

“Thank you,” you reply, feeling a bit surprised by the turn of events. “It was a lucky swing. I thought for sure you and Loki would beat us.”

“We very nearly did,” Loki says, following behind Volstagg as the four of you leave the sparring ring.

“You did wonderful, cousin,” you say to Volstagg, putting a hand on his shoulder as you smile at him. “We’ll get them next time.”

“Next time it’ll be me and one of the princes, little dragon,” Volstagg says. Then he tweaks your nose, and you slap his hand away with a glare.

“Don’t do that, you know I hate it,” you complain.

You hear your name and Volstagg’s as you clear the top of the ring, and the four of you all turn to look at your father.

“Work on your teamwork. The two of you could have won if you had,” Týr says, hands behind his back as he assesses the four of you. “Prince Thor, a little less smashing and a little more strategy. Your strength is a weapon, but it will not always win on its own.”

Your father is silent for a second, seemingly trying to come up with what to tell Loki before he says, “If you’re going to use all of your abilities in a fight, do not wait until you’re nearly defeated. You might have won had you used that same move at the beginning.”

You’re curious about what Loki had done, but the youngest prince is blank-faced as he listens.

Reprimanded for your mistakes, you and Volstagg both bow your heads to the Einherjar General while the princes give a brief nod. The four of you thank him, and then he dismisses you all for the day.

You look up at the sky, realising that the sparring session had gone on longer than you expected. Over an hour has passed since the four of you stepped into the ring. No wonder you were beginning to feel tired; even a god’s stamina can only take you so far before a short break is needed.

Suddenly a loud buzz of reverent whispers breaks out from the einherjar a few metres away. The four of you stop, looking at the einherjar who suddenly part like the sea.

Three figures glide forward, all in dark cloaks with covered faces. A chill skitters down your spine. You swallow hard as you step back from the Weavers of Fate as they approach your quartet.

They stop two dozen paces away. The whole courtyard has gone silent. All around your group, everyone has stopped whatever they were doing to watch. Everyone knows what is happening, even if they have only heard whispers of it before today.

The Weavers have come to bestow a godnaming, telling someone what their godhood, their domain, truly is. For one of you, the wait of learning what your godhood is has come to an end.

A large part of you is terrified by their appearance, but an even larger part is hoping that you will be the one to receive a godnaming.

You’re still shy of fifteen. You haven’t even had the chance to visit Skuld for your Weaver’s Reading, something you won’t do until after your fifteenth birthday like all Drekasál. The idea that it would be you receiving it is absurd. And yet, you yearn for this to be your godnaming.

A voice, high and reedy, calls out, “Volstagg Sverrisson. Step forward and hear what we proclaim.”

The three of you drop back a few paces from Volstagg as he steps towards the Nornir goddesses. Your cousin drops to a knee and bows his head, battle-axe laid on the ground as one of the Weavers steps forward.

She places a hand on his head. In a voice that rasps, she proclaims, “I am Urðr, Weaver of the Past. I know all that has occurred in Yggdrasill’s eyes, and therefore understand that which happens now and that which will happen tomorrow. I have seen your past, and the paths that have lead you to this moment. I know what the World Tree has in store for you, and today it seeks to name you. Will you accept what it has named you since long before you were born?”

“I accept,” Volstagg says. There’s a stiffness to not only his words but also the way he holds himself. You can’t see his face, but part of you knows that he’s afraid.

He can call himself the Lion of Asgard all he wishes, but you know your cousin relies on his courage and the three of you more than anything. And he has to receive his godnaming alone, in front of hundreds who will whisper of his godhood the moment the Weavers leave.

You reach out with your free hand, grasping Loki’s tight. He returns it with just as much apprehension. The two of you could crush each other’s hand if you were to grip any tighter.

The second Nornir goddess steps forward, placing her hand over Urðr’s.

In a low voice as smooth as silk, she says, “I am Skuld, Weaver of the Future. Yggdrasill shows me what is to come, and has shown me the path it needs you to follow. It will not be an easy one, young warrior, and such a path will push you to do what you currently believe you never can. Will you accept what the World Tree has named you since long before you were born?”

“I accept,” Volstagg says again.

The final Weaver steps forward, placing her hand over the top of the others. In that high and reedy voice from earlier, she says, “I am Verðandi, Weaver of the Present. I see all of the realms within Yggdrasil’s branches, and know all of the ones who call it home at this very moment. Day by day I have watched as you have grown, and day by day I have become more believing of what Yggdrasill has long whispered your name is. Will you accept what it has named you since before you were born?”

“I accept.”

The hands of the goddesses fall away, and together they proclaim, “Yggdrasill has long whispered of you and of the deeds you will commit. It has called for you, has granted unto you that which you deserve to claim this title. You are this — the God of Courage.”

You’re not sure what you expect when they proclaim it.

You remember Thor’s. How Yggdrasill itself seemed to hear their proclamation, letting loose flashes of lightning streaks across the empty sky followed by several booms of thunder right behind them. You had flinched then, at the rupture of calm by the noise.

Volstagg’s godnaming is different in every way. A light makes him glow, and Loki whispers in your ear, describing the sight of “red-gold light, swirling around him” before it seems to be absorbed into your cousin’s body.

Tension falls from your shoulder. The godnaming is over.

One of the Weaver’s — Urðr you think — seems to turn her head towards you and Loki. For a moment, you wonder why, and then she raises a finger and speaks once more.

“Loki, child of Odin. Step forward and hear what we proclaim.”

A renewed rush of whispers swells as you quickly release your friend’s hand and step away as he moves towards the Weavers, taking up the same position as Volstagg had, laying his sword down beside him and bowing his head.

Volstagg joins you and Thor, battle-axe in hand.

None of you speaks. All you seem to be able to do is stare at Loki as you watch.

The godnaming repeats, with Urðr placing her hand on Loki’s head first.

“I am Urðr, Weaver of the Past. I know all that has occurred in Yggdrasill’s eyes, and therefore understand that which happens now and that which will happen tomorrow. I have seen your history and that which lead to you. Today we seek to tell you what Yggdrasill once named you. Will you accept what it has named you since long before you were born?”

“I accept.” Loki’s voice doesn’t waver even a bit, but it’s also not as loud as his brother’s had been during his godnaming.

Skuld now places her hand over Urðr’s, silken voice saying, “I am Skuld, Weaver of the Future. With this naming we will grant you knowledge of what your future will contain. Yggdrasill has shown me that your path will be arduous, the challenges in it more difficult than you can imagine. Will you accept what it has named you since long before you were born?”

“I accept.” There’s a stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t there before, brought on by the Weaver’s foreshadowing. You can’t help but worry and wonder what could happen to your friend that would be so challenging she would warn him now.

Verðandi places her hand over the others, reedy voice gentle as she says, “I am Verðandi, Weaver of the Present. I see all of the realms within Yggdrasil’s branches, know all of the ones who call it home at this very moment. Yggdrasill has called you many names as the days have passed, but today we seek to tell you the one that you will forever be known by. Will you accept what it has named you since long before you were born?”

“I accept.”

As one, their hands fall away, and they proclaim, “Yggdrasill has long whispered of you and of the path you will have to walk. It has called for you, has bequeathed unto you that which you deserve to claim this title. You are this — the God of Mischief and Lies.”

Much as with Volstagg’s, you’re not certain what you had expected to happen with his godnaming, but the sight — even in monochrome — is equal parts frightening and awe-inspiring.

Seiðr smokes around him, obscuring parts of him as he flicks through different versions of himself so quickly you can’t keep a hold on any single version that appears. All you can pin down are flashes of different furs, wings, horns, talons, tails, and paws.

Just as quickly as it began, the smoke dissipates and he settles back into the same form he’d knelt as.

The three of you wait with bated breath, wondering what will happen next. Will the Weavers grant a third godnaming on this day?

Verðandi leans down next to his face, whispering something to him that’s obscured by her veil before she straightens back up.

The entire courtyard quiets again. You can hear the pounding of your heartbeat in the silence that echoes.

And then — between the space of one heartbeat and the next — all three of the Weavers of Fate vanish.

( next chapter )

Find the lore notes for this chapter here!

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #a fairytale beginning #the prince and his dragon #of fire and of ice #amphi writes

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chemicalpink · 3 years

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대취타 (DAECHWITA) | EMPEROR!YOONGI X READER | FINAL

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

Words: 3.5k

Genre: Emperor AU, Historical AU (kinda), smut, angsty

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of historical public execution, oral sex (male receiving), lowkey breath play, unprotected sex

A/N: FINALLY IT’S HERE. I hope you enjoy, I had a hard time trying to make this not seem lame so here it is! please let me know what you think!

Summary: You used to be an assassin, got caught and works at the palace as a servant up until you are escorted to the main palace, either to meet your inevitable destiny or for a change of plans.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Forehead resting against your own as you found yourselves panting, him sliding out as your spasming cunt dripped with both of your releases onto the floor, placing one more soft kiss on your lips with his eyes closed “Marry me”

You almost sat up with a start. Suddenly the world was bright and hazy. Yoongi had opened his eyes and they were digging like daggers into yours, an unusual look on him. You looked at the emperor apologetically before turning your gaze to the end of the room where there was a pile of books, silently detangling yourself from him.

The silence was deafening.

Then again, who in their right mind proposed marriage while having their cock buried deep inside some assassin turned royal slave. All the same, Min Yoongi wasn’t exactly known for having a right mind. But it wasn’t just the fact that he had proposed seemingly out of the blue, more than it was everything that came with it. The words seemed to tangle themselves inside your brain as you hear him say them over and over again. That he couldn’t think of himself marrying some woman that was inferior to him in mind and spirit. That he had wanted to marry to someone he loved. To think that Min Yoongi had proposed you marriage not in the heat of the moment but fully conscious of his actions would not only mean that he was in it for the great sexual escaped you two regularly went on, but because due to some fucked up mindset the royal had, he believed he could love you.

Yoongi reached for your hand in an attempt to get your attention, face soft with post orgasmic bliss as he repeated the ill fated words “Marry me, Y/N”

You snapped out of his hold. “Yoongi I don’t think you understand the situation”

“What is it then, please do enlighten me, Y/N cause from what I understand is me asking for your hand in marriage, twice now” he blinks a few times, looking at you expectantly, crossing his arms like a petulant child

“FUCKING READ THE ROOM MIN YOONGI ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND”

“Well I’m not, but you seem to be”

“I’m a fucking assassin, my hands? they will forever be tainted red” you look down at your hands and the blond man comes near to hold both of them inside his

“Y/N I couldn’t care less about that, it’s not like I’m a saint either”

“You just don’t understand”

“Then help me out” somehow his ever consistent and aloof tone gave you more chills thana you could’ve imagined if he were to raise his voice at you “Y/N I’m serious with my proposal, the sex is amazing, but you’ve proven to be an excellent addition not only to my court, but to my life”

You are shaking, voice trembling and just above a mere whisper “I was the one that killed your mother on that freezing December night”

He freezes in place.

He seemed oddly composed for someone who had just been told the responsible of his mother's death was none other than the woman he thought he wanted to marry

You remember how a few years ago, he had gone on a killing rampage, exposing heads outside his palace as if they were homemade decorations, swearing to find the person responsible for his mother’s death and get revenge. It had been months of bloodbath. Some had considered the emperor’s son to have gone completely out of his mind.

You storm off. Not before accepting the responsibility of your actions, perhaps Yoongi had also been a good addition to your life “I’m fine with you deciding to execute me for my crimes, I understand whatever sentence is best fitted for me, your majesty” for the first time since you had arrived at the palace, you don’t dare to look him in the ye, opting to follow court protocol and bow deeply before taking your leave, attempting to detangle yourself from your messed up robes and even more messed up string of thoughts.

The following days to that conversation were a blur and for the most part, uneventful, the emperor had opted not to gravitate your way unless strictly necessary, oddly enough, the air wasn’t awkward at all, it was as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you in the first place. Yoongi had retreated to being an aloof ruler, along with regular trips to meet his once very occupied and spoiled rotten concubines, all the while you were kept apart from. Sometimes, you would receive jobs outside the palace and were expected to fulfill them according to instructions. More times than not, you were left wondering if you would make it back to the palace or if it was one hell of an excuse to execute you.

Hearing approaching footsteps, you couldn’t help but hide the best that you could behind one of the hostel’s walls. Hooded and well muffled with the cape, as you did your best to camouflage yourself into the shadows and become a mere wisp of darkness. A maid from the hostel trudged to the open window and closed it, grumbling. Lightning illuminated the landing. You took a deep breath and reviewed the plans that you had so painstakingly memorized throughout the three days you had been guarding that building on the outskirts of the kingdom. Five doors on each side. The target’s bedroom was behind the third one on the left.

Stealthy as a specter, you walked down the landing. You pushed the target's bedroom door, which opened with an almost imperceptible squeak; waiting for another thunder to rumble to close it carefully. A second flash of lightning illuminated the two figures sleeping on the canopy bed. Young Hee must not have been over thirty-five. His son, small and beautiful, slept soundly in his arms.

“I’m not murdering a poor kid’s mother”

“So you’ve gone soft”

“No I haven’t gone soft” “What could a poor merchant woman have done to you for her to deserve such an end to her life”

He sits down on his throne “You didn’t even hesitate when killing my mother, though”

“Yoongi I-” he turns his head to you, a sharp gaze following your every move, as if he was a predator waiting for the precise moment his prey took a wrong turn to jump on them. You turn your gaze to the floor immediately “Your Majesty”

“Listen Y/N- I’m a very busy man, so I’ll make it easier for you” he stood up from where he was sitting, and although you weren’t looking directly at him, you could hear him move around the room until you were able to see him stop right in front of you, a hand you were so familiar with once caresses your cheek as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him face to face “It’s either her life, or your life. Easy choice, Y/N”

You can feel your heart wanting to burst out of your ribcage at that exact moment, finally understanding the importance behind such a horrifying task, the mirroring in the situation. And the choice was as simple as it could get. “Kill me instead”

You could see the rage inside his eyes, even as he stood still for a few second, steady as ever, unfaltering as he called over one of the palace’s servants to get him the royal seal, the infamous red ink that decorated the skin of those in line to be executed by the royal himself, an utmost sign of rage, of personally wronging the monarch. A sense of longing crossed his gaze for half a second as he locked eyes with you before he took your wrist in his hand and stamped the cold ink on it; you couldn’t keep your body from reacting to the action, whether it was having him touching you again, the almost imperceptible stuttering of his movements when he did so, or the knowledge that you’d have to face an execution, making you shake lightly as adrenaline filled your veins.

Preparations were something the emperor certainly didn’t scattered in, back when he became known as the cold hearted borderline psychopath he had a vaste fame of, ikt was mostly do to the whole antiques that surrounded his personal executions, the way that they seemed to mimic a kingdom’s festivity was almost breathtaking, were it not for the fact that the main entertainment of the day would be having you publicly executed. You had been waiting for that night for a whole week. Sitting in the wooden corridor nestled to one side of the golden dome of Min Yoongi’s personal library, remembering how the last time you had been there, things were so different from how they were now, where the emperor had asked you to marry you in the worst way possible and you had confessed the greatest murder of the dynasty; you let yourself be carried away by the music that rose through the amphitheater. With your legs dangling under the railing, you leaned forward and rested your cheek on your crossed arms. One could almost swear the palace was preparing for a wedding, if the way you were constantly dressed up and down during the week, the way the palace’s servants were constantly bustling around the building to ensure the greatest quality for the evening, the greatest night for the kingdom. The execution of the Empress’ murderer.

“You seem oddly calm for someone who's about to be executed” Jungkook mentions as he approaches where you were currently hanging out, a few minutes to spare before a small group of designated maids were to call you to get you ready for the night.

You look up at him tiredly, without separating your head from where it was laying, catching him taking a seat by your side in the most infantile way you had ever seen the royal guard do, shrugging to no one in particular, you add “You know, accountability and stuff”

“Oh and she grew a moral compass during her time here” if he was expecting a bickering comeback, the way you used to do back when he was designated to look after you, he was certainly not getting anything other than be met by an extended silence that seemed to rise the tension and seriousness of the whole interaction between the two “Why are you letting this happen to you?”

“What are you talking about” this time, you do turn to face him, confused as to where he was expecting the conversation to go.

“You didn’t kill his mother”

“I did”

He huffed out air, sounding a bit exasperated at your response; you could have even sworn you saw him roll his eyes faintly “No you didn’t, you were a mere 15 year old” there was a bit of laughter behind his sentence before he regained his composure and went back to his former self from a few minutes ago, looking at your face quizzically as if there was something hidden in there that held the answer to his question “So why are you doing this”

You try and miserably fail to convey a nonchalant look on your face as memories of your time with the emperor fill your mind, not just the carnal ones, but those where you would watch him work for his place in the royal hierarchy, the soft sides around the rough edges that were publicly hidden on purpose, turning away from the guard you say softly “Yoongi’s a great man”

“Okay sure, he could do with a more...tame temperament, but what does that have anything to do with you chopping your own head off”

You try your best to ignore the way your heart seems to physically ache at the thought behind the answer; you almost don’t get enough strength from within to mutter “I’m hoping to get him some closure, be an even better ruler”

“That’s- definitely not how it’s supposed to work Y/N” Jungkook says incredulously

“I was technically part of the killing so, it’s all the same”

He huffs before going to stand up, dusting off his uniform and already facing away from you, before you can hear him call for you one last time “Yoongi’s in his room, you know, he was looking for you a few hours ago, in case that information helps in any way”

So perhaps you were naive for thinking that he would answer his door, he would have no reason to do so, especially given the circumstances, if it were you, opening the door to the person that had confessed of murdering your mother, and having them come up at your room, you wouldn’t even need to think it once to decide not to further interact with them, but Jungkook had said Yoongi had been looking for you before, so the chance of him wanting to see you alive one last time were there. Unless you were reading it all wrong. You turned your back on the huge wooden door you had come to know as the emperor’s bedroom a few months back, resigned, when you heard the creaking of a door opening and a calm steady voice.

“So you’re going to just knock on my door and run away the same way you entered my life and are now leaving it forever?” his frozen tone still having an effect on your body as you turned to face him properly for the first time in what seemed like an eternity “Came to discuss a bargain for your life?”

“Not at all” you lock eyes with him when approaching him, until you were practically inside the room, his judgemental gaze still on you “I wanted to say my goodbyes properly, your majesty”

“Then don’t waste my time and come in already, Y/N”

The royal wasted no time in cornering you against the door, face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin, the tip of his nose nuzzling the side of your face and you knew him enough to know he had his eyes closed to keep his composure as he talked “I’m going to miss you like a fucking mad man”

It felt like falling back into routine, the way he kissed you, down to your neck up to your collarbone, pushing past the robes that covered your skin, in preparation for the ritual, his hands roaming freely in a familiar way, grabbing all the right places as he draws little sounds from your throat, all while he worked the both of you to where his bed was placed, although he was giving your body and pleasure a decent amount of attention, you couldn’t brush off the fact that he irradiated an angry aura, words left unspoken as he got his anger out by pleasuring both of you. Maybe himself more than you, as he removes himself from caressing your body as he usually did and positioned himself above you, his member laying flat on your already expecting tongue,as soon as you realised what his intentions were when he started undressing himself, his hips thrusting a few times in an experimental manner, soon enough finding a pace at the same time as you bobbed your head up to capture as much of his length as you could inside your mouth, your hands captured under Yoongi’s weight, unable to help you work him further, the way you’d done before.

You feel him start to thrust further into your throat at one particular kitten lick of yours to the tip of his cock, your head starting to hang from the edge of the mattress you two were on as he picked up the pace, his cock filling you up all the way until it hit the back of your throat a few times, you trying to whine around him, only further encouraging him to take a handful of your hair and push you further against him, your gag reflex taking the best of you as he held you there, nose close to his navel, deep grunts ripped from his lips, the air leaving your lungs and becoming slightly light headed after a few seconds of you tapping his thigh in a motion to let him know to let you breathe, at which Yoongi locked eyes with you, a mix of anger and longing in his yes as he thrusts a few more times as saliva started dripping from your mouth, tears decorating your pink stained cheeks before he removed himself from you, giving you a few seconds to gain air before he repositioned both of you. A deafening silence taking over both of you, as you were still catching your breath and he positioned his cock at your entrance, his tip, wet with your saliva, playing with your folds for a few seconds, as you take a sharp intake of air when he enters you and immediately sets a slow deep pace. You can feel his member filling you up perfectly, mind racing with flashbacks to all those other nights before where the emperor and you shared endless nights all over the palace.

The knowledge that this would be the last time creeping up in the back of your mind. You feel an unfamiliar wetness hit your neck where Yoongi was kissing your skin, rolling down as you identified it as tears, as he was still passionately thrusting into you.

“I don’t want to lose you” his voice barely above a whisper, trying to conceal the way his chest was tightened with sadness

“You have to let me go, Yoongi” one of your hands comes up to caress his locks as he pushes up to stare at your face, anger long gone and replaced with utter sadness before one last thrust has him filling you up with his seed, warmth enveloping you, a soft whimper leaving your lips as his cock leaves your cunt, a briskly wind coming from the window causing your body to shiver for a second at the loss of body heat on top of you.

“I guess this was it then” his cold and unnerved facade was on again, making the cold shivers in your body that much worse as you watched him adjust his clothes and walk out of the room, leaving you to dress yourself and ultimately face your fated destiny at the end of the day.

The palace’s front plaza is filled to the brim with spectators as the news got out that the Emperor was finally getting revenge for his mother’s killing, people from the kingdom and even some people from neighbouring ones all lined up in the outer sides of the fire marks that decorated the space to illuminate the middle path where you were placed in the end of it to walk your way up, two unknown guards on each side of you as each grabbed your elbows to push you forward, the rope certainly leaving marks on your skin as it was wrapped tightly around your wrists.

You could only catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s blond hair, wrapped in his infamous black and golden hanbok, drums roaring in unison, people screaming as you watched him take the sword from the swordsman that had prepared the ritual beforehand, as someone wrapped a cloth around your eyes and you were promptly pushed forward, legs buckling every few seconds as you came to realise what you were about to face, it hadn’t been clear before, mere seconds away, finally falling to your knees, head bowed down in resignation as you could barely hear the sharp sword cutting the air around you, gasps from the crowd filling the air along with the constant sound of the drums around you. You could only hope your death would bring much needed peace to the monarch and his kingdom. Your heart seemed to want to burst out of your chest, if anything, Yoongi was known for being an espectacular swordsman, which hopefully made the whole execution that much easier. You could hear cheers and a metal cutting the air before your body fell limp to the ground.

But your consciousness never left, the drums couldn’t be heard anymore, cheers were replaced with confusion as a pair of hands helped you up to your knees, fumbling with the cloth around your eyes to come face to face with Min Yoongi kneeling before you, a subtle smile on his face as one of his hands caressed your cheek before helping you up beside him.

“I’m sure you all must be confused right now” he announced to his subjects “This woman right here, has got more courage in her than anyone that has ever worked for me, any of us, for that matter. Which is why I’m asking once again, publicly, for the first time, for her hand in marriage” he turned to face you, as you were still dazed by the whole ordeal, his hand in yours being the only thing holding you down “Marry me, Y/N”

#kwritersworldnet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtanuniversity #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts imagines #min yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi scenario #bts scenarios

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quickspinner · 2 years

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For the writer ask game, how about 1, 3, 18, and 32 (sorry, I'm being greedy 😅😘)

Ask me a weird question

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

At the moment I write in the default setting for google docs most of the time. When I first started writing, there was a fanfic writer whose work I super enjoyed, and I really liked their tone and it fit with what I wanted to do. Their fics were always posted in a certain font and so I did most of my writing in that font--I think it was honestly just like, Times New Roman 10, it wasn't anything super fancy. I also wrote in Notepad rather than Word a lot (this was in the Days Before Google and the Cloud) because the interface was simplified and it was just easier concentrate without all the extras and the help and Clippy and whatever. Also my writing buddy at the time used a Mac and .rtf files were easier to send to her than .doc files.

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

😂 I don't feel like I really have anything resembling a ritual, it's mostly just grabbing the time when I can? Most of the time that's sitting in an armchair in my bedroom with my laptop, with noise cancelling headphones on so that I'm not distracted by whatever chaos my offspring are perpetuating. Mostly I write on the weekends while my husband spends time with the kids, but I'm hoping to start getting in some weekday afternoon time while the kids are in school. So far that has been prevented by a seemingly never-ending stream of appointments for various family members, but I'm hoping that will die down in a few weeks. (Maybe. We have to see a whole new doctor this week and who knows what they will want to do, but my fingers are crossed that this will be a 'not a big deal but we should monitor it, get some more imaging in a few months kind of thing.)

It's cursed because of Discord. (I love you guys though 😁)

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

Ummmm I'll come back to this. I have to think and look at some notes. 😆 I'll reblog this with the answer once I have it.

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

I would almost definitely choose without action...but I think I could do either? My stuff is generally introspective enough I could go without dialogue, and it would be a lot of introspection and reflection, maybe someone taking care of a loved one who is incapacitated and can't speak back, so everything would be internal and conveyed through actions. But, I think it would be a lot more fun to do a dialogue only piece, and it would probably be like those comic panels or cartoons when someone is stuck in the dark and they can't see anything so the panels are just black, and you have to infer everything that's going on from their conversation.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

This is one of those questions where your mind just goes blank when someone asks you. 😂 I quote things all the time, there are lots of little lines that come to me in my daily life, I know there are, and yet. Consciously trying to bring them up is incredibly difficult. I know there are a lot of things from The Lord of the Rings, which has been my absolute favorite book for years and years and years (do not speak to me of the movies, I have not managed to watch them all the way through without rage quitting even a single time). I tried to read it at ten and failed and then a year later, I managed to read the whole thing, and now I practically know it by heart. There's a lot of things from movies and such, funny lines that stick with me that I use all the time. This habit has become weirder as I get older, because I haven't had a lot of mental energy to consume new things so my references are aging as I age.

The one thing that comes to me in the moment is a line from LotR when Gandolf is telling Frodo the history of the ring, and Frodo passionately wishes that Gollum were dead, and that he deserves to be dead. I'm quoting from memory so the wording might not be exactly right, but Gandolf says, "Many live who deserve to die, and many who die deserve life. Can you give it to them?"

It was just a really poignant moment that stopped a very human and emotional moment of Frodo's right in its tracks, and it ties directly into the third book when Frodo meets Gollum and realizes that he can't kill him; it's the planting of a seed of compassion that bears fruit later in the book, and ultimately saves everyone in the end.

Gollum still dies, but not until you've had ample opportunity to see the tragedy of his life, and you feel no satisfaction, no vindication, or very little, that he got what he deserves. By the time he dies, even with all the horrible things he does, you (or at least I) see him as a victim and feel sorry for him, even if you are still glad that he dies, because really what good could come from him being alive at that point.

Also, I was a huge fan of @cleolinda 's Movies In Fifteen Minutes back in the day, and there's a line in one of them about a King Arthur movie where the heroine says "The Romans wouldn't let us have sleeves" and Arthur says, "Baby, when I'm king, you can have all the sleeves you want," and my husband and I still quote it at each other. Especially when Starbucks is out of cup sleeves. 😂

#quickmeme #quickanswers #weird writer questions

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heyitsani · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday

Today's piece is from the Mail-Order-Bride AU I'm doing as my submission for the historical au for JayDick Week. This story has been meticulously researched and the world has been built from historical accuracies but twisted to fit my own needs. So keep that in mind. As always, completely unedited but will mostly remain the same since this is the first meeting of Jason and Dick after having exchanged letters. And Jason picked up a surprise addition along the way without telling Dick (and him finding Tim is the actual opening scene of the story, but I don’t have it to the point where I’m good sharing it yet).

Enjoy!

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Jason stepped off the train and looked behind him to make sure Tim was right behind him before he started searching for the man Roy had described as unnaturally beautiful. There were a handful of older couples and even some kids running around on the platform, he didn’t see anyone who really fit the description he had been given. At least not until a lean man with raven locks and startling blue eyes came running up the steps, breathing heavily as if he had run a few miles to get here.

“Come on, kid,” Jason said quietly, holding out his hand for Tim to take before leading him over to the man he assumed was Dick Grayson. And the closer he got to him, the more Jason knew this had to be him. And fuck if Roy wasn’t spot on with the description of unnaturally beautiful. He had never seen anyone as gorgeous as this man was. No man or lady. And though Jason was certainly larger than he was, the three piece suit he wore did nothing to hide the strong lines of his body. He was the picture of youth and beauty, physically a catch for anyone who was given the chance to stake claim on him.

And Jason allowed a moment of uncertainty to creep in. Would this man renege on their contract when he saw Jason wasn’t nearly as beautiful as he was? And with a face like that, how had he not already found himself a wife or husband? “Dick Grayson?” Jason pushed the thoughts away and tried to steel himself. He could feel Tim shifting next to him, half his body hidden by Jason’s own form.

At the sound of his name, Jason watched Dick look over at him and freeze. And as the man’s jaw literally dropped, Jason nudged Tim when the kid snickered at the reaction. “Jason Todd?” The breathless sound of Dick’s voice questioned, the man almost visibly shaking himself out of a stupor.

Nodding, Jason held out his hand and waited for Dick to shake it. He was pleasantly surprised by the warm, firm grip Dick had. Another thing Roy had commented on. Dick Grayson looked delicate and soft, but he was stronger than most and would easily knock down someone twice his size.

“Who is this?” Dick questioned, trying to look around Jason to see Tim. But the kid just moved further behind Jason and the older man sighed.

“This is Tim,” Jason offered, tugging the kid out from behind him to stand in front of him with both of Jason’s hands on his shoulder. “We’re a package deal now.” Dick’s eyebrows rose as he listened to the tone of authority Jason gave before he looked down and took in Tim’s appearance. The new clothes Jason had bought for him actually fit, but it wasn’t hard to see the still healing bruising on his eye and neck. And he was obviously undernourished. But Jason didn’t know what Dick would make of all of that.

There was another beat of silence before Dick smiled. “Well, welcome to California Tim. And you too, Jason. Of course.” And Jason felt himself relax just a bit at the words because he really didn’t know what he would have done if Dick had said no. He didn’t exactly have a backup plan for his own living situation if the thing with Dick fell through. But now he didn’t need to worry.

“Thank you, sir,” Tim said quietly, and Jason felt himself tense again in fear of what Dick would say in response.

But the man just laughed and reached forward to ruffle the kid’s hair. “None of that sir stuff here,” he said, gesturing for Jason to give him the two bags he had. “I walked here from the office, so I hope you two don’t mind? We need to go sign a few papers before I take you both home,” he told Jason as he shouldered both bags on one side and headed down the platform.

“Seeing the town and stretching our legs would be nice, right Timmy?” Tim rolled his eyes and moved to walk next to Dick, looking up at him curiously. It hurt Jason’s heart a little to see how quickly the kid latched onto some positive attention. It was different watching it from the outside in as opposed to experiencing it like he had when he had found the kid cowering in a dark alley.

Dick glanced at him over his shoulder, giving Jason a small smile, before he pointed out a building to Tim and explained how it was the local schoolhouse. “We’ll get you fully settled before you need to worry about school, though,” Dick told him and though Jason couldn’t see his face, he could tell Tim’s shoulders relaxed a little at the thought of not being dropped right into the thick of it before he was ready. It had only been a few days since his entire world had changed, Jason didn’t want him to have to navigate yet another change. “How old are you, Timmy?”

“Thirteen,” the boy offered, and Jason cleared his throat, drawing both of their gazes. But he kept his eyes on Tim and raised a brow. “Eleven,” he muttered, and Dick chuckled easily. Like it didn’t matter that the kid had tried to lie about his age to him. A kid he hadn’t even been expecting and yet seemed to be taking in stride.

Jason didn’t know what to make of that.

#wip wednesday #jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #mail order bride au #anikah writes

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stayndays · 4 years

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𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐬! - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

part of my anime!skz series, this story is based off of “Toradora!” and will include spoilers on the plot of the show.

genres & tropes: fluff, minor angst (mostly at the end), high school au, love triangle/square, enemies & neighbors to lovers au, tsundere!jeongin (i guess?), gender neutral reader, reader is misunderstood as a cold person

disclaimers: drowning (but no death), mentions of rumor spreading & outcasting, mentions of anxious feelings/actual anxiety, one or two swear words, i have not proofread this so if the last few episodes seem really wonky that’s why

word count: 11k... we don’t comment on that

summary: “Y/L/N Y/N. Yang Jeongin. Kim “Chuu” Jiwoo. Kim Seungmin. You like Seungmin, Jeongin likes Chuu. You’re best friends with Chuu, Jeongin’s best friends with Seungmin. You don’t like Jeongin, but you know about each other’s crush. It’s time to play a game of Cupid, while being struck with Cupid’s arrow yourself.”

a/n: happy valentines day and belated jeongin day! this is the first story i’ve decided to tackle for my anime!skz series as well, so i get to hit three birds with one stone with this fic. also, i decided to take out a couple elements in the original anime (such as the addition of a character that’s like ami, taiga’s family issues, and some events) just so it’s simpler and totally not because i’m on a time crunch. i hope you enjoy reading this! <3

taglist: @skzwriternet @dayawantstosleep @desertofdessert @mr-jisung @dreamylunarnight (sorry if i forgot you i’m running on 0.2 braincells)

anime!skz masterlist is here!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Episode 1: Collision Course

“Psst, look over there!”

“Huh? What?”

“The fennec fox is about to face off against the dark delinquent!”

You turn to face the two students after overhearing the words “dark delinquent”, making the duo back away in fear. Cursing your parents who gave you these intimidating genes, you heave out a breath out of annoyance, and continue walking down the hallway.

Alas, maybe your appearance is the reason why people never approach you unless it’s absolutely necessary. You still manage to give off this dark atmosphere despite how much you try to change your appearance.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” your best friend, Chuu, attempts to reassure you. “It’s only the first day of school! You still have an entire school year to prove them wrong.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy your best friend, who basically embodies the definition of the sun. Always smiling and having a positive attitude regarding the situation, you just so happened to be the exact opposite of her. Boys are constantly crushing on her, she’s one of the most popular girls of your year, but she just so happens to be buddies with you.

“Oh, watch out Y/N!” Distracted by your thoughts, you process Chuu’s warning just a second too late, and collide with a particularly tall boy, somehow smacking your face right into the torso part of his male school uniform. The force manages to knock the both off you to the ground, sending your papers flying all over the place.

Oh, that’s right. That’s what the two girls were talking about. You’ve heard rumors of who this “fennec fox” person is, and how he has a really bad temper when you push his gears. But this guy you just bumped into? A fennec fox?

You guess you can see some resemblance of a fox in his facial structure, but his figure literally towered over you, making you feel like an ant standing next to a tree. The small crowd of passing students trying their absolute least to hold in their giggles make you feel even smaller, your neck growing hot because of how embarrassed you are.

“Watch where you’re going next time!” the boy scolds you, brushing off the paper that landed on top of his head. His voice makes you flinch slightly, and it’s only in that moment that you realize the rumors, so far at least, were true.

“Er, sorry,” you quietly mumble out, scratching the side of your face. He definitely looks pissed, you thought, smoke practically fuming out of the guy’s ears. “Here, I’ll help you gather your stuff.”

“I’ll help you guys out, too!” you hear a familiar voice, and meet the eyes belonging to a face you know all too well.

Kim Seungmin: your secret crush that nobody truly knows about (you’ve tried approaching the topic to Chuu multiple times, only to be interrupted by her other friends). He’s the vice president of your school, a role he’s gained through the student body president herself. The definition of hardworking and kind at the same time, who would you be not to fall for a guy like him?

Your breath gets caught up in your throat as you try to answer him. “Oh- Uh- Thank you, Seungmin.”

“Of course! Wouldn’t hurt to help out my best friend, too,” Seungmin replies.

Best friend?

“Thanks..” the boy simply mumbles in response, and you almost did a double take on what you just heard. Seungmin and this guy... best friends? Before you can dwell on it long enough, however, you’re already being pulled to your feet by Chuu, and your papers are back in your hands.

“Let’s go, Y/N!” Chuu beams with enthusiasm, and you could only afford a small smile in return. “Say, which class are you two in this year?”

“2-A,” the boy answers in a composed manner, the anger he released on you must’ve vanished by now, and you could almost see the pink dust coating his face. “What about you, Chuu?”

You can’t even process the way the guy completely skipped over you to only ask Chuu personally before you blurt out,

“We’re in the same class?!”

Episode 2: A Bold Strategy

Bad news: your love letter is gone.

That bastard fox dude, Jeongin, you learned his name was, must’ve taken it when you bumped into him in the morning. Not that you blame him entirely, because how could you remember to grab your letter in the ocean of textbooks and notebook paper?

Good news: you have his own love letter.

Why good news? Well, that just means he’s in the exact same boat as you, and now you can call yourself even with him. An exchange of love letters, it almost makes your heart calm down for a split second.

Until you read who the letter was addressed to.

There’s no way in hell this guy could get with your best friend. Jeongin, based off of first impressions, is a literal firecracker (who, for some reason, shouts at people he just met), while Chuu is a ball of sunshine. You don’t blame him, though, as almost every male classmate you’ve had has taken some sort of interest in her at some point, and you guess he’s no exception.

Then again, you’re in the same situation as him, crushing on somebody way out of your league.

While Seungmin is a star student, always willing to help people out and socialize, you’re a total outcast who can barely get average grades in school. Seungmin just so happened to be one of two (the other being Chuu) who’s approached you willingly, and that’s why you fell for him. That charming smile of his, and his caring nature. It was all too much for you.

As you thought about it more, flipping Jeongin’s love letter to Chuu between the flesh of your fingers, it’s not a terrible idea to help out Jeongin. He may currently have a 0% chance of getting with Chuu, but if you succeed and play a bit of matchmaking, he could return the favor to you.

You like his best friend, he likes your best friend...

You gently rip open the envelope encasing Jeongin’s letter, and start reading.

Episode 3: The Cupid Game Begins

“Uh, Jeongin-” you tap the boy’s shoulder once, which was conveniently right in front of your desk. He continues to talk to the people around him, which makes you tap his shoulder harder.

Jeongin whips his head around to meet your calm eyes, only turning slightly frightened when you flinch at his sudden movement. “Wha- Ah! What do you want?” He says in an aggravated tone.

“Sorry,” you apologize quickly for making him jump, not wanting to cause another scene like yesterday. “I just need to talk to you about something for a few minutes.”

Jeongin lets out a groan, fixing his position so he can look behind him more comfortably. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”

“Something I’m sure you don’t want your friends to hear,” you respond casually, picking at the skin on your fingers. The boy’s eyes visibly perk up at your reasoning, and finally nods. “Thanks,” you say to him and stand up, pushing in your seat.

“Careful Jeongin!”

“Fight back if they hit you!”

You let out a deep sigh at the comments directed towards you, not even bothering to shoot them a glance in response. It’ll only make the rumors worse, you think as you walk out of the classroom, Jeongin trailing behind your footsteps after closing the door.

The hallway was silent once you stepped out of your class, no longer hearing the chattering of your fellow classmates about the latest gossip and homework. You could only hear your very own footsteps, along with Jeongin’s feet, which were behind you. Once the two of you made your way to the vending machines near the school stairs, you take out the coin you were holding in your hand and insert it into one of the machines.

“Which drink do you want?” you ask the boy without turning to face him, fishing out another coin in your mini wallet.

“The melon one-” Jeongin does a double take, not believing what he heard as he watches you insert another coin into the vending machine. “Wait, why are you buying a drink for me?” He questions your antics, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

You stick your hand into the machine to grab Jeongin’s drink, making eye contact with him as you hand it over. “Why not? Is there a reason I should be buying you a drink?”

“Well, I mean,” Jeongin scratches the back of his neck in confusion. “Aren’t you supposed to be... a delinquent?”

You chuckle at his explanation, “Does that mean you’re a fox? Our nicknames in this school are only based off of our appearances, isn’t that funny?” Joining him on the floor, you crack open your own drink. “So no, I’m not a delinquent, and I’ll never be one.”

“That’s not what I’m here to talk about anyways,” you don’t bother to check Jeongin’s facial expressions as you continue, starting to take out his envelope before you’re stopped by him.

“Wait! I have something to give you too,” Jeongin stops your movement, slipping out something from his pocket as well.

“Is this yours?”

You both say at the same time, revealing each other’s envelopes. There’s yours, with a tacky, red heart sticker stamped onto the envelope to seal it. Then there’s Jeongin’s, with only the word “To: Chuu” on the back.

Jeongin quickly snatches his letter from your hand, and quickly throws your own onto your lap. “Uh, thanks for returning it. You didn’t- Give it to Chuu for her to read... right?”

“Of course not.”

“And you didn’t read what’s inside?”

“..You got me there, I’ll admit it,” you chuckle slightly, raising your hands in defeat as your face starts to grow hot. Jeongin hums a bit, surprisingly not even a tad bit angry at your confession.

“Well,” Jeongin leans back against the wall. “I guess we’re even then.”

“What?!” you exclaim in surprise. “I mean- Yeah, cool. Actually, this works out perfectly.”

“Why?”

“I have a proposal for you,” you start. “We both like each other’s best friend, right? So we could be each other’s wingman and try to get with our crush. It’ll just take a bit of cooperation, though.”

Jeongin scoffs, “You made me look like a fool on the first day of school, why should I?”

“Well, besides being the apparent ‘delinquent’ of this school, I’d say I’m quite good at matchmaking thanks to Chuu, a cupid, you could almost say,” you cross your arms in defense. “Then again, since I’ve already read your sappy love letter to Chuu, I could always tell her that-”

“Fine!” Jeongin finally gives in. “I’m in, I’m in. I have absolutely no idea how I could get somebody like Seungmin to like somebody like you, but if you’re able to get me and Chuu into a relationship, I’ll try my best to play cupid. Okay?”

“I’m just going to ignore that comment about me and take it,” you shrug, standing up after checking the clock on the wall. “I’ll give you my address on a piece of paper later, so we could meet up and start planning.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongin follows your actions, standing up and tossing his drink into the trash can.

“Remind me to pay you back for the drink, by the way.”

Episode 4: His Angelic Neighbor

“How ironic.”

“How ironic, indeed,” Jeongin agrees with you, the two of you standing at the entrance of Eda Apartments Complex, your backpacks on your back.

The studio apartment complex the both of you just so happen to live in, that is.

Part of you is relieved that you live near Jeongin, so maybe you could get to know him better (not as a friend, of course, but to see if Chuu would actually like him), and of course to work out your cupid plans together. However, the other part of you is confused as to why you’ve never even seen him around your apartment until now.

These thoughts run through your head as Jeongin leads you to his apartment, walking up a lengthy three flights of stairs, as opposed to your usual two.

When he’s about to open the door to his place, Jeongin turns around to face you, key in hand. “Whatever you do, don’t comment about my place.”

“Okay...?” you comply with an incredibly confused tone, but it seems to be enough for Jeongin, as he swings the door open.

Soda cans upon soda cans are messily piled up near a trash can, which was overflowing with paper plates and tissues. His bed, which is in the corner of the room (which, to be fair, it’s a studio apartment, and you have the same bed layout as him), wasn’t even made, and what you could assume to be a dining table had leftover Chinese takeout boxes on it.

When you peered into the sink after reluctantly placing your belongings near the door, it’s almost clogged up with muck and filth, making a shiver run down your spine. Not to mention, when you asked Jeongin if you could have a drink from the fridge, all your eyes could see were frozen meals & rows of soda and juice. How long has Jeongin been living this way?

“Uhm, hate to mention this to you,” you close the fridge gently after grabbing a can of soda. “but your place is really-”

“What did I say to you before I opened the door?” Jeongin fires back before you could finish.

You stay silent.

“Exactly. Now can we please start talking about our ‘Cupid Plans’ as you like to refer to it?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow at you, taking out the items in his backpack.

“It’s a cute name, okay?” you respond, making your way to the table as Jeongin pushes the takeout boxes to the side. “And we’ll be studying too, we have a quiz tomorrow, remember?”

“I’ll rather do the studying later,” Jeongin. “So what does Chuu like?”

“Hmm...” it takes you a moment to think about what your best friend likes when it comes to love, which is a bit strange, because you’d think you’d know what Chuu likes after watching people confess to her after all these years. “I think she’d prefer something planned? Even extravagant, if you really push it. She likes plushies and small gifts.”

“What about Seungmin?” you ask Jeongin.

It also takes Jeongin a second to come up with an answer. “He’s always been into nerdy, yet bubbly people, I guess? Since you’re so antisocial, though, he probably won’t like somebody like you right now.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m only trying to help!”

The conversation shifts slightly, and to your surprise, flows well despite your polar opposite personality. You and Jeongin discuss possible ideas as to how both of you could help each other out while studying for your upcoming quiz.

“And for equation 17, would it be-” you lift your head up from your math textbook, only to see Jeongin using his arm as a pillow and sleeping on his own book. You blink a couple times in disbelief, but remember that you’ve been over at his house for a little over three hours at this point. Shrugging, you gently close your textbook and decide to call it a day at Jeongin’s place.

But then you go back to your senses and remember how filthy of an apartment you’ve been at this entire time. The more you look at your surroundings, the more you desire to clean up the place.

A neat freak, that’s what everybody calls you. It’s what your mom taught you all throughout your childhood, and it’s a trait you’ve kept until now.

Your mind goes into autopilot mode as you start moving around his place left and right. Somehow, you were able to find a box of plastic gloves stored in the back of the sink cabinet, so you put a pair on and start cleaning. Tying up garbage bags and cleaning out the sink, you also make the effort to place the leftover Chinese food into the fridge after checking if it’s spoiled or not. Most people would stare at you in confusion, but you shake your head at the thought, only hoping that Jeongin would at least appreciate your efforts.

By the end of your cleaning session, you could now call the studio apartment an apartment, and not some kind of swamp. Pleased at your work, you take out one of your notebooks and rip out a piece of paper, grabbing a pencil along the way. You write a quick note for Jeongin to read when he wakes up:

“Cleaned up your place while you were asleep, I could also cook for you and teach you how to cook? (Chuu likes food) text me: xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Swinging your backpack onto your pack, you leave his apartment and make your way to your own.

Later that night, your phone dings with a message from an unknown number.

[Unknown: i’m so tired of frozen meals and takeout, please cook for me (and teach me how)]

Episode 5: However

“Here’s your lunch, Yang,” you pass your spare lunchbox to the seat in front of you, which Jeongin takes gratefully. Chuu, who was making her way over to the seat next to you, catches sight of your interaction with Jeongin.

“Y/N’s food is good, isn’t it Jeongin?” Chuu strikes up a conversation right away, leaving Jeongin flustered, and most likely burning hot.

“Y-Yeah, it is.”

“Say, you two have been talking a lot lately,” Chuu starts talking as you tilt your head up to take a sip of your drink. “Have you two been, or should I say, has Y/N finally gotten a-”

You choke on your drink, almost spitting it all over Jeongin’s back before catching yourself. Jeongin has almost the same reaction as you, only choking on the food you prepared for him instead. It had only been two weeks of school; two weeks of talking to Jeongin solely about each other’s crush, and yet Chuu believes that you two have something going on.

“Absolutely not, Chuu.”

“Yeah, no way.”

You exchange a glare with Jeongin, almost in a panicked manner. If Chuu believes that you two are dating, that would practically be the end of your chances to be with Seungmin, same going for Jeongin with Chuu.

“Alrighty then, I trust you two,” Chuu leans back in the chair she’s sitting on, before promptly getting up and making her way to the door of the classroom. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

As soon as she closes the door, Jeongin immediately leans over to your desk, ignoring his bento box. “We have to do something about what Chuu said.”

“Duh, there’s no way we could let her think that about us,” you agree with him. “What are some solutions? We could try to be more distant with each other, which honestly I don’t think either of us would mind too much. I could simply tell Chuu that we aren’t even close friends, or-”

“You need to confess to Seungmin,” Jeongin bluntly tells you, catching you off guard.

“What- why would I do that?!” you almost yell at the boy in front of his face. His plan is all kinds of crazy, you would’ve never thought of it yourself.

“You’ve known Seungmin longer than I’ve known Chuu, so you have a lower risk of being rejected. And if you actually end up dating Seungmin, then Chuu would know that us two aren’t a couple,” Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s a win-win situation.”

You scoff, “And if I get rejected?”

“I’ll like- I don’t know, buy you ice cream?” Jeongin attempts to persuade you, to which you sigh as a response.

“I guess I’ll trust you on this.”

The day passes by without a hitch, to your utter shock, as the churning in your stomach says otherwise. The thought of impulsively confessing to your long time crush makes you feel lightheaded and dizzy, as it was something you’ve never done before. However, your stubbornness is refusing you to back down from Jeongin’s wild plan, so here you are, face to face with Seungmin at the roof of the school.

“Erm- So-”

“The weather is pretty nice today, isn’t it Y/N?” Seungmin casually breaks the ice wall between you two.

The sudden question catches you off guard. “Ah, yes.. yes it is...” Already, you could feel the heat rising up your body, even when the weather today was particularly cloudy. “Uhm, I brought you here to tell you something, Seungmin.”

“Oh, what is it?” Seungmin seems surprised at your statement, but the voice in your head tells you otherwise. He’s smart enough to look through people, you know that already, so why are you trying to hide your feelings when you’re already this far?

It’s time to take a leap of faith, you think, as you take in a large breath before telling him everything. “Uh, you see.. I’ve always appreciated you ever since you approached me that one day. Nobody’s ever done that for me except for you and Chuu, and because of that I think you’re a.. great person... What- What I’m trying to say here is-”

“I like you, Seungmin.”

You tilt your head downwards, almost in shame as you play with your fingers anxiously. Letting out a shaky exhale, you can’t believe that you just confessed all of those things to your own crush. Your heart beating a thousand miles a second, it felt like you were about to explode from either embarrassment or anticipation; quite possibly even both at the same time.

“You, know, Y/N..” Seungmin starts to chuckle, grabbing onto his left wrist with his right hand.

“I used to like you.”

That made you look back up at him in shock, blinking a couple times out of disbelief. “Really?!”

Seungmin simply hums, confirming what he just stated. “That’s why I approached you in the first place. There was something about you that drew me into talking to you. And of course, you didn’t disappoint me,” he flashes you a comforting smile, but it soon goes away at his next word.

“However...”

Seungmin leaves you hanging after that one word: however. His mouth opens and closes, most likely trying to come up with the right words to say. You wobble your feet back and forth, becoming more and more impatient.

But then, he says something. A simple, ten word sentence. Not a compound nor a complex sentence. Easy for a little kid to understand.

“I hope we can be good friends in the future.”

And yet it cracks your heart.

In a blink of an eye, Seungmin has disappeared from your view. An unexpected wind blows through your body, almost feeling like a comforting pat on the back after being rejected; friend-zoned.

You make your way to the front of the school, dragging your feet in a lazy manner. Jeongin’s head perks up when he nears footsteps, only to gaze down at your slumped figure. Letting out a deep exhale, you give Jeongin a glare that could cut him in half; one of disappointment and exhaustion.

“You owe me ice cream.”

The ice cream place is about two blocks away from your apartment complex, decorated in obnoxious pastel colors that make your eyes squint. Jeongin is relatively quiet throughout your walk there, only offering to carry your backpack if it’s too heavy for you, to which you declined quietly. You can feel the burn of his eyes on top of your head, anticipating for you to let out a scream in anger, but you’re simply not that kind of person.

You remain deep in thought even when you sit down, grabbing a menu to cover your face. Jeongin’s eyes remain on your figure, and you wonder if he’s actually, genuinely, worried for you.

“Er, what do you want to order?” Jeongin asks you in an attempt to break the tension. “I’ll pay, since you seem a bit heartbroken right now-”

“Hi, welcome 901 Freeze Treats Parlor-” you look up from the menu at the sound of a familiar, cheery voice.

You forgot Chuu works here.

And you forgot to tell Jeongin that information.

“Oh, Y/N! And Jeongin, hi guys,” Chuu flashes a grin at the both of you, and you can’t help but smile and almost giggle at how Jeongin grows beetroot red. She’s sporting a pair of pigtails in her hair, and the striped uniform topped with a cute hat on top. “What can I get you guys?” “I’ll- I’ll get the banana split Chuu!” Jeongin exclaims a bit too loud, attracting the rest of the customers at the parlor. Chuu, although a bit confused, seems to enjoy Jeongin’s enthusiasm for ice cream and writes down the order.

You set down the menu and point to what you want with a hum, to which Chuu bends forward slightly in order to see what you want. “You always order that, Y/N! Don’t you want to try something else?”

“I’m good, Chuu, thanks,” you give her a gentle smile, praying that she won’t comment about how tired and defeated you look. Fortunately for you, she leaves you alone, and you’re left back with just Jeongin.

“How have my letters been doing?” Jeongin blurts out before he could stop himself, covering his mouth with one of his hands soon after. “I- I mean, I shouldn’t.. really ask when you’re sad.. but I mean I might as well ask you since we just talked to her, right? Sorry-”

“They’re doing good, she likes them a lot,” you reply softly to the frantic boy, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your answer. You’ve spent the past few weeks helping Jeongin write love letters to Chuu, even decorating them with cute stickers. For once, your writing skills can come into play, and you haven’t let Jeongin down yet. “And it’s okay, my head is just in the clouds. At least he let me down gently.”

“What exactly did he say?” Jeongin eggs you on, wanting you to elaborate further.

“Something along the lines of us being good friends in the future,” you explain to him. “He even said that he used to like me, but I don’t know-”

“Then you still have a chance, right?” Jeongin doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence before jumping in. “He left the door wide open for you to walk into, or- something like that at least. And, now thinking about it, I actually do think he used to like you.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re only saying that to make me feel better about this.”

“No, really! He mentioned that he liked somebody quiet and mysterious, and that he was gravitated towards that person. He told me that he would approach that person someday. It must’ve been you! I’ve known Seungmin for years, and this is one of two times he’s told me about his crushes,” Jeongin carries on with his own explanation. “So, in conclusion, I still believe it’s possible to win over his heart.”

Your lips press into a thin line, “You sure? Like, you’re absolutely positive about this?”

Jeongin nods, and for the first time since you’ve met him, he sends you a genuinely positive smile. It’s not like the annoyed snarks or the cheeky smirks he gives you all the time, but rather, something you could find comfort in. Just like Seungmin’s smile.

“Okay then, I’ll trust you.”

Episode 6: Swimming Lessons

“Did you guys hear that the school’s swimming pool is opening next week?” A masculine voice you know all too well, yet you wish you didn’t at the same time, is heard from behind your back. Seungmin locks eyes with you as he tosses an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder while you continue walking down the hallway.

It’s all too weird in your opinion that Seungmin is actually even friendlier after rejecting you. Because, shouldn’t the two of you be distant for at least a week or two? You guess that’s just not how Seungmin operates, then, as he dove right back into talking with you after that dreadful day on the school rooftop.

“Yeah, Seung!” Jeongin answers with a joyful tone, giving you the chance to break your eye contact with Seungmin. You, on the other hand, were not a swimmer whatsoever.

Being submerged into a body of water to the point where your toes can’t reach the ground has never been ideal for you. Any kind of physical action required to even survive in the water is off putting in your option, so you’ve always stuck to dipping your feet into the water and nothing else.

But you guess that changes starting today.

“You know Seungmin,” Jeongin starts to say, “Y/N is actually a pretty good swimmer! I think they could even beat you in a swimming race.”

Your head jumps up in surprise, eyes widening when Jeongin turns to you. He mumbles the words “trust me” before going back to Seungmin. How many times will you have to trust Jeongin and his crazy schemes?

“Oh, really?”

Jeongin hums in confirmation, ignoring the side nudges coming from you.

“Then we should race once the pool opens, Y/N!” Seungmin suggests with visible excitement beaming from his face.

Your gut immediately tells you to deny, but then you have to consider Jeongin’s “trust me.” He seems fairly confident that everything would work out, so is the risk worth the possible reward?

“Oh- Uhm... Sure! Sure, let’s.. let’s race, yeah,” you manage to let out before you could change your mind. “Just give me time to prepare, I, uh, haven’t swam in a while.”

“Of course!” Seungmin grins. “Let’s do it in two weeks, okay?

All you could respond with is a nod, which Seungmin takes without anymore questions. He bids the both of you well, and makes a left to the student council room.

You feel like a puddle of mush, waiting to collapse onto the tile floor of the school hallway. “I. Hate. You,” you scowl harshly at Jeongin.

“What?” Jeongin is caught off guard at your sudden hostility. “You never mentioned that you were afraid of the pool, and I don’t think it’s that bad of an idea. This is your chance to impress Seungmin!”

You scratch your head in confusion and denial. “Isn’t this a bit much, though? And who’s going to teach me how to swim?”

“You could always get me back with any ridiculous idea on how to get Chuu to like me,” Jeongin suggests to you. “And I’ll teach you, I’m a decent swimmer.”

“Sure, sure. Thanks for the idea, by the way,” you comment with a smirk, watching as Jeongin’s expression turns into one of regret.

“Now, teach me how to swim.”

An entire two weeks pass, and with those two weeks, comes the opening of the school pool. Although the vast majority of your classmates are genuinely excited to get a chance to cool down in the recent, scorching weather, you’re visibly less enthusiastic about it. You still try to keep a smile on your face with Seungmin is around though, so he doesn’t see through the lie Jeongin spontaneously made up.

“Y/N!” Chuu approaches you after exiting the changing room near the pool; you’ve already changed prior to her. “Your race with Seungmin is today, right? I see you’re all decked out in floaties.”

“Yeah, I’m just, uh- using them for safety purposes.” you give her a short and sweet response due to the churning in your stomach after being reminded of the event happening today. It’s a shame that your entire class knows what’s going down in just a few minutes, because they’re all anticipating your match with Seungmin. “The Delinquent vs The Student Pet” is what they’ve dubbed the match.

Also, Seungmin was generous enough to add onto the rules that floats were allowed to be used. So now you have floats all around your figure: some attached onto you, some you have to hold.

“Hey Y/N-” Jeongin stops walking towards you after noticing Chuu, her hair in a braid and only wearing a casual swimsuit. “Oh- Hi Chuu!”

Chuu acknowledges Jeongin’s presence, but quickly turns back to you. “I hope you win the race, Y/N. I have faith that you could do it!”

“Y-Yeah Y/N! We didn’t train all for nothing,” Jeongin adds onto Chuu’s comment. Thankfully, although Chuu doesn’t even know that you couldn’t swim prior to now, she doesn’t question Jeongin’s extra addition of training. “Let’s head over to the start of the pool? Seungmin’s already there, I’m just here to fetch Y/N.”

“Okay! I’m referee as well, so I have to be there too,” Chuu claims, and the three

Seungmin turns around from a group of boys to greet you, “Hey, Y/N! Ready for our match?

“H-Hey Seungmin,” you greet him with a friendly, yet shy tone, along with a nod.

“Okay!” Chuu gathers everybody’s attention with just the sound of her voice. “We’re here today to watch the race of Y/N vs Seungmin. On the count of three, I’ll blow my whistle and they’ll start swimming. You must go to the end of the pool, and right back to where we are right now. Ready?”

“3...”

“Also, just to calm your nerves a bit,” Seungmin whispers to just you right before the race begins.

“2...”

“I already know that you didn’t know how to swim before this. It’s okay if you fail, I’ll make sure nobody makes fun of you. Just stay safe, okay?”

“1...”

Your breath hitches for a split second, but before you can fully process what Seungmin just confessed to you, the whistle blows.

Seungmin dives into the water head first, while you jump in measly with your feet touching the water before the rest of your body. By the time you’re able to start kicking your legs, Seungmin is already ahead of you, so you push against the wall using your feet and start doggy paddling. It’s quite pathetic, and you’re sure that’s what everybody is thinking as they watch you swim, but it doesn’t matter at this point.

Or does it?

Because while you’re swimming across the pool, your brain just had to remind yourself about what Seungmin said seconds before the race started. He already knew you couldn’t swim, so it’s not really about impressing him anymore.

Then again, it’s not necessarily about winning, but about showing Seungmin that you’re dedicated enough to try new things to have fun with him.

That’s why it matters now.

However, it feels like you’re sinking.

Throughout the race, you’ve lost float after float, and now you only have the two floats that wrap around your arms. The water is slowly starting to touch your lips, and falling into a standing position, making your situation even worse. Your heart pounds faster and faster in a panicked frenzy, struggling to comprehend what to do.

Thankfully, cupid comes to rescue you.

He jumps into the pool like a lifeguard, placing his hands near your armpits before pulling you out of the water with a surprising amount of strength. Despite the midst of chaos you were put in, you’re able to hear cheers and applauds, signaling that Seungmin must’ve finished the race. Once again, you’re left to vanish, with the only other misunderstood student to help you.

You feel the surface of the concrete outside of the pool on your bottom as you cough out water. Yet, Jeongin is nowhere in your sight.

That’s when you realized. He’s submerged under the water.

You assume that he must’ve lost energy while saving you, resulting in the two of you swapping places. Eyes widening at the sight, you sprint across the flooring of the pool site, screaming your lungs out for somebody to help.

“Shit!” you curse yourself when you finally get the an adult’s attention after being unable to get a classmate to help you. All of your classmates ended up next to Seungmin, aka, the opposite end of where you stopped swimming. It’s only when the teacher pulls Jeongin’s unconscious body out of the water for it to lay down that it grabs everybody’s attention, swarming to see what was happening.

That’s when you snap.

“I’m disappointed in all of you right now!” you scold all of your classmates, something you’d never think you’d get the courage to do until now. “All of you were focused on that stupid race, but you never bothered to check on Jeongin. He could’ve died because of your ignorance! I hope you all know that.”

After leaving your classmates’ mouths agape, you storm out of the crowd, and make your way to the changing room. Nobody, not even Chuu or Seungmin, bothers to approach you.

Later that day, after some of your classmates apologized for not noticing what was happening, you, and a now in-stable-condition Jeongin, walk home after an exhausting day. Not many words are said, just like your regular walks after each school day, until Jeongin turns to you.

“Uhm, I just wanna say..” Jeongin starts to speak,. “Thanks for defending me earlier after I drowned.”

You blink in surprise, “Wait, you heard all of that?”

“Yeah, I was already conscious for a few seconds before you started going off on them. But thank you, seriously. I appreciate it after being misunderstood by our classmates for all these years,” Jeongin sighs, and then gives you another one of his kind smiles.

“Of course...” your mouth forms a thin line after you mumble out those two words.

Why is your heart fluttering like Jeongin’s pair of cupid wings?

Episode 7: All For Your Happiness

“Hey Chuu, listen to this!” you hold your phone right next to Chuu’s ear, which was playing the sounds you’d find at a haunted mansion. She yelps once she realizes what she’s listening to, and pushes your phone away with her palm, making everybody laugh.

Never in a million years would you find yourself sitting on a train with Chuu, Jeongin, and Seungmin all at once. The four of you were on your way to Chuu’s beach house, a place you’ve been to before during every summer break prior to this one, but it was always just the two of you. Now, however, you have your very own crush tagging along, plus his own best friend (and you don’t exactly know what you should call him anymore... Friend? Good Friend? Partner in Crime? Cupid Partner?).

And you and Jeongin have a plan. One time, for once, you came up with, and you believe that it’s less traumatizing than nearly drowning in a pool.

It just so turns out that Jeongin is a horror movie enthusiast, so he slipped multiple DVD sets of horror movie classics into his suitcase to do a watching marathon at the beach house. It also turns out that Chuu is terrified of anything that could scare her, like jump scares. So, the plan is for Jeongin to become Chuu’s knight in shining armor for whenever she gets scared during this trip.

“Why are you making me listen to all of these things?” Chuu whines with a pout. To be fair, you’ve been making her listen to these chilling noises for the entire train ride, to the point where you’re almost at your stop.

“It’s kind of funny to watch your reactions, that’s all,” you semi lie, because while it is a bit hilarious to see Chuu’s dramatic reactions, you’re waiting for the moment for Jeongin to strike.

And it’s at that moment when Jeongin finally speaks up, “Er- Chuu! If you ever get scared during this trip, come to me and I’ll-”

You mouth the word “protect” to Jeongin once he stops speaking.

“Uh- protect you!” Jeongin finishes after looking at you.

“Oh okay!” Chuu gives Jeongin a heartfelt grin. “I’ll make sure to go to you then, thanks!”

Jeongin nods eagerly, something Seungmin chuckles at, and you lean back in your seat at ease. If you’re able to successfully help Jeongin be Chuu’s knight during this trip, you’re certain that Chuu will at least take some interest at Jeongin.

The train reaches your destination swiftly after Jeongin’s interaction with Chuu, and after a quick bus ride and a trek to the beach, you’ve finally reached Chuu’s family beach house.

“Wow, this is awesome Chuu!” Seungmin shouts gleefully as he looks at the house. The house is relatively small and gives off a modern feel, but it’s fortunately enough to fit four people in.

Chuu smiles at the compliment, “Thank you! My family is fortunate enough to own a place like this for the summer. But since my parents are always overseas when summer rolls around, this place turns into a paradise for Y/N and I!”

“Anyways,” Chuu continues. “We should probably clean up the house since it hasn’t been used since last year, but I say we go play on the beach first!”

While Seungmin and Jeongin nod their heads eagerly, a lightbulb is turned on in your head.

“Actually,” you speak up. “I’ll go on ahead and clean up the house first. It’s probably messy inside, and you guys know how much of a ‘neat freak’ I am.”

Jeongin seems to catch onto your idea, his eyebrows rising, “Oh, then I’ll clean up with Y/N too!”

“But you seem really excited for the beach Jeongin,” Seungmin questions, but Jeongin waves it off.

“It’s okay! You two can go play first,” Jeongin insists, and the other two don’t ask anymore questions, heading towards the ocean. “You really are a smart person, aren’t you Y/N?”

There it is; that fluttering in your heart again, but why now? “Well, you’re smart for catching on. Let’s go place scary traps all over the house?”

“Heck yeah.”

After some time cleaning up the house (and making what would be Seungmin and Jeongin’s room especially clean) and placing various objects around the rooms to create a horror effect, the two of you had finally joined the others at the beach. It was then that the “Scare Chuu Montage” officially began.

During your time at the beach, you attempted to kick some seaweed at Chuu’s legs to make her jump, but the ocean water never agreed to your intentions and spared her. That night, Chuu walked into the dark bathroom only to meet eyes with a reflection in the mirror. But when Jeongin came rushing over, Chuu had already turned on the light and saw the makeshift face you created on the mirror using face cream and cotton balls.

The second day, Chuu woke up to the sound of being a woman screaming her head off, making her jump out of her bed in alert. It was simply a sound you found on the internet, but at least it woke up her up. The day was spent shopping at the nearby mall, so you couldn’t do very much to scare Chuu other than to hide at various nooks and crannies. You also ordered for Jeongin to stay by Chuu’s side at all times, but he didn’t do very much other than attempt to hold her hand (which was a very poor attempt, so of course, he failed). At least you and Seungmin talked individually while getting some ice cream, and to your utter surprise, it wasn’t that awkward.

The third day, you finally got Seungmin on board with your plans. Although a bit skeptical at first, you insisted that it would be a fun and harmless prank, and counteracted him by saying he laughed when Chuu got scared during the train ride. With Seungmin teaming up with you and Jeongin (without knowing your real intentions with the pranks), the horror movie marathon started despite Chuu’s pleads (to ensure that Chuu didn’t find any other movie disks around the place, you hid them all on the first day in a location she’d never look).

With Jeongin and Chuu on the couch and you and Seungmin on the floor, you don’t think it’s possible for the two to still be away from each other after this marathon ends. The first movie starts off generally slow pacing, but it’s enough for Chuu to mutter out pleas of worry for the characters. Jeongin quietly laughs at her antics, telling her once more that he’s there if she needs to be comforted, and you give Jeongin a mental high five.

By the end of the night, the two were cuddling, Chuu’s face looking especially scarred, while you and Seungmin finished the massive bowl of popcorn. When the lights finally came on, Chuu and Jeongin finally realized the position they were both in, and quickly scurried away from each other to your amusement.

The fourth morning came shortly afterwards, and with that morning came the end of your trip at the beach house. Although it was spent mostly with your attempts at scaring your very own best friend, you still had fun yourself, and even spent some time with your crush.

And it seemed like your efforts finally paid off, because Chuu wanted to talk with Jeongin privately.

After Jeongin shoots a glance at you while walking off to a private room of the house with Chuu, you quickly shuffle your feet over when Chuu’s not looking, placing your back against the wall. You hear footsteps inside the room before they suddenly stop, and then hushed whispers are all you could hear.

But then, Jeongin’s voice increases in volume.

“You.. You knew that we were pranking you?”

Your next breath gets caught up in your throat once you realize what exactly that meant.

You failed?

Chuu hums, “I did, but I didn’t bother to tell you because it looked like you and Y/N were having so much fun. Actually, I was only guessing that you were pranking me this entire time, until Seungmin came and confirmed it with me.”

“Seungmin?!”

“Yeah, Seungmin! I guess he played you guys,” Chuu laughs. “At least you had fun on this trip! I actually did, too, because I love scary stuff. I’m not afraid of it at all.”

“Oh...”

“Hey, cheer up! You made me happy, and you’re happy too, isn’t that what matters?” Chuu reassures Jeongin. “Anyways, we should continue packing. I just wanted to get that off of my chest.”

You hear more footsteps, and then something that sounds like a cushioned thud.

“Thank you, Jeongin.”

You must’ve heard Jeongin squeak, because he has to clear his throat before answering. “S-Sure, Chuu. Yeah, of course!” Jeongin says the last few words more confidently as Chuu giggles.

That’s when you rushed into the nearest bathroom moments after the door swings open. The shuffling of footsteps is heard again, until they stop once more, and then somebody knocks on the door.

“I know you’re there, Y/N,” Jeongin claims, and that’s your signal to open the door.

“Yeah, but that’s not what matters here!” Jeongin’s eyes are wide open as he lets out wheeze after wheeze. “I- No- We made her happy, Y/N! She really enjoyed these past couple of days! And, and! She gave me a hug, Y/N!! I don’t think I’ll ever get over this, seriously. I’m falling for her more and more.”

It’s the first time that you’ve seen Jeongin as giddy as this, in the several months you’ve known him. Is this what love does to people? Is it supposed to make their heart burst like what you’re seeing right now?

Because, if so, why don’t you feel like that for Seungmin anymore?

Note to self: Jeongin, out of all people, loves hugs.

Episode 8: And He’s Gone

Seungmin has been acting.. rather odd lately.

To be fair, the school festival had just ended, plus the student council election was about to occur, so you’d reckon he must be exhausted as vice president of the council. Perhaps he must be busy thinking of ways to campaign (not that he needs to, everybody agrees that he’s the best person to become the next president) or maybe he’s just getting a good rest.

But that’s not what Jeongin claims.

[Jeongin: he doesn’t want to run for president]

[You: really?!]

[Jeongin: yeah, but he won’t even tell me the reason]

[You: ahhh what do we do now T-T]

[You: on one hand we should respect his decision]

[You: but on the other, the school will crumble without him]

[Jeongin: idk y/n]

[Jeongin: i could try to explain to him why he should run or at least try to get his reasoning]

[You: yeah you should do that]

[Jeongin: cya]

You drop your phone down onto your chest, sighing heavily. Rolling over on your bed to face the window, you ponder as to why Seungmin would make such an impulsive decision like that. He was always so passionate about being a member of the student council, so why is he backing away from it now?

“Bad news: I wasn’t able to get any info from Seungmin,” Jeongin confesses as the two of you walk to school for another day. “Good news: I have a plan in case Seungmin truly doesn’t want to run for president!”

“It seems like all of your plans are either dumb, crazy, or both,” you retort back at him. “But shoot.”

“One of us runs for president!”

“Don’t shoot, nevermind.”

“No no no, you have to listen to me for this,” Jeongin attempts to persuade you. “Because after you hear my explanation, you’ll probably think it’s a good idea.”

You stay silent.

Jeongin continues though, “So, if one of us runs for president, and campaigns really bad, we’re talking ‘I’m going to give everybody six ounces of homework when I become president’ bad, then Seungmin would want to jump in to save the school!”

“Why don’t we make somebody else do it? Like- Chuu for example!” you insist, but Jeongin’s not having any of it.

“Chuu’s too popular, she might actually win. So it has to be one of us.”

“Then you do it because it’s your idea.”

“Nope.”

You sigh in defeat, “Rock paper scissors?” Jeongin nods, and gets his hands out. You’re quite confident that you’ll win, as you’re somehow incredibly good at rock papers scissors. Jeongin seems like the type of person to throw out scissors as a first move, and since this isn’t a best out of three game, you have to take your shot.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Your rock is meant with his paper as Jeongin chuckles, covering your fist with his hand.

“Looks like you’re running for president!” Jeongin beams at you.

It’s now a week after your rock paper scissor match with Jeongin, the reason you’re even here in the first place. Next to you is a set of speakers, and in your hand is a megaphone. Taking a deep breath, and taking the time to glance at the boy behind you, you put the megaphone next to your mouth.

“Listen up you morons!” you shout at the confused crowd of students beneath your feet, trying to ignore the burning of your face. “I, Y/L/N Y/N, am running for president! So unless any of you cowards decide to run as well, I’ll be your new president! Get used to it!”

“Y/N’s running?”

“Out of all people?”

“Gosh, why isn’t Seungmin here when we need him?”

You continue on with your speech, going on and on about how you’re basically going to rip this school into shreds. You start to worry that you’ll be doing this until the school bell rings for first period, starting to question how much courage you have left to not collapse out of embarrassment, until he finally shows up.

“Excuse me! Sorry, I need to get through!”

“Why are you doing this, Y/N? And why are you helping them Jeongin?! This isn’t like you guys,” Seungmin demands with a worried expression on his face.

You and Jeongin look at each other, before you decide to answer. “We’re doing this because you weren’t running for president for some dumb reason. This school needs you, Seungmin!”

Seungmin’s mouth forms on “o” shape as he realizes your intentions, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

He chuckles, “You really are something, aren’t you Y/N?” Seungmin’s expression softens when he meets your eyes, showing gratitude. He gently takes the megaphone from your hands, and clears his throat.

“My name is Kim Seungmin, and I will be your next student council president!”

An uproar of cheers follow his announcement, and you let out a laugh of relief. Now you could bail out of the election, leaving Seungmin as the only person the school could vote for as president. It’s a win win situation.

Until the election ceremony rolls around.

All of the students are packed into the gymnasium, each class standing in rows. On the stage you could see the current student council members, along with Seungmin, and your heart races for him.

He’s called up to the front of the stage after being announced as the school’s new president, and a thunder of applause booms through the gym. Seungmin stands in front of the microphone.

“I’m Kim Seungmin, I’m your new president, and... and-”

“I am in love with our former president, Park Jihyo!”

He’s in love... with Jihyo?

Jeongin immediately turns to look at you, his mouth agape just like yours. The rest of the audience starts murmuring to each other in disbelief. Seungmin, out of all people, pulling a stunt like this?

Oddly enough though, you don’t feel the same heartburn that you felt the first time you were rejected. It’s almost as if... you’re okay with this.

“You’re the reason why I’m standing here today; because you gave me a purpose at this school! And I know that you’re leaving to study abroad right after I take your role of president, so that’s why I’m shooting my shot today!” Seungmin explains loudly to the microphone, right in front of Jihyo, who’s standing there with an unamused look on her face. “Do I have any chance to be with you? Any chance whatsoever?!”

By the end of his speech, Seungmin is out of breath from shouting so much, and Jihyo seems to be stunned. She quickly shakes her head to clear out her mind, though, and takes the nearest microphone into her hands.

“And here, ladies and gentlemen, is your new student body president,” Jihyo calmly announces to everybody, not even acknowledging Seungmin’s confession at first.

“I taught him how to be a good leader, and that’s how he ended up on this stage today. I have absolutely no doubt that Seungmin will do an incredible job as body president. I care for him quite deeply, and I hope you will help him succeed at his duties of being president.”

“Please look after my good friend, Kim Seungmin, while I’m gone. Thank you.”

Rejection: unrequited love, but confirmed. To some, it may feel like a glass filled to the brim with water suddenly shattering onto the floor. To others, it’s a gentle, yet brutal, falling of a feather, easing its way to the ground.

While Jeongin thinks that two hearts were broken in that gymnasium, only one truly was.

And it wasn’t yours.

“So you’re saying you’re over Seungmin at this point?” Jeongin’s voice goes higher in pitch when he asks you. “Did I shoot my cupid’s arrow at the wrong person or something?”

You walk in silence for a few moments, letting the both of you ponder for a bit. How do you answer that question without obviously revealing who you truly like?

“Yah,” you ultimately avoid the question. “You never paid me back for that peach drink I bought for you.

Episode 9: Shot an Arrow at Each Other

[Chuu: i think i like him]

[You: who?]

[Chuu: jeongin]

You suck in an unexpected breath, and it’s almost as if your heart stops. Valentines Day is tomorrow, so it’s no wonder that Chuu’s coming to you for love advice. When you don’t reply, Chuu keeps sending texts.

[Chuu: i think i might confess to him on valentines]

[Chuu: and i have suspicion that he’s the one who’s been sending me love letters, but im not too sure]

You gulp, turning over onto your side and tucking yourself further into the sheets of your bed.

[You: then go for it!]

[Chuu: i would but]

[Chuu: i feel like somebody else would be happier with him]

[You: care to elaborate?]

[Chuu: i know there’s somebody else out there who could treat him better than me]

Does Chuu know? Are you that obvious?

[Chuu: y/n]

[Chuu: you have a special connection with jeongin]

[Chuu: you like him, don’t you? ^_^]

That damn emojicon. You could imagine that if this conversation were to happen in person, she would smile at your real big before dropping the bomb.

And you wouldn’t know how to respond. Because she’s right.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to save you from drowning. Jeongin wasn’t supposed to encourage you to confess to Seungmin when you still liked him, and he wasn’t supposed to buy you ice cream

But at the same time, you weren’t supposed to buy him a drink. You weren’t supposed to clean his apartment. You weren’t supposed to cook him meals willingly. You weren’t supposed to help him that much during summer break.

The two of you were supposed to just be each other’s cupid, but because you weren’t, you’ve fallen for him.

[You: but jeongin likes you]

No, you refuse. You refuse to let your emotions get in the way of Jeongin’s and Chuu’s happy ending. You refuse to let your emotions get in the way of what you and Jeongin have been striving for this entire school year. You’re better than that, stronger than that.

But why does it hurt so much?

The next day, Valentines Day, comes faster than you would’ve liked. Normally, this would be your favorite day of the year, because you liked seeing other people happy despite you being alone yourself. The outcasting you’ve put up with for the majority of your school life doesn’t bother you on this day surprisingly, as it’s always fun to see Chuu’s desk swamped with candies and anonymous letters.

It’s fun watching other people be happy.

This year, however, you’re left with a stain in your heart that you’re constantly reminded of throughout the day. Jeongin raves on about how he’s thinking about confessing to Chuu, yet you don’t have the heart or the energy to tell him that Chuu is thinking of the same thing. Then again, it’s better not to get in the way of love, right?

Chuu hasn’t spoken to you much ever since she read your final message to her last night. You don’t blame her, really, but she should do what’s best for her, not what’s best for you.

And Seungmin, to your utter shock, has been pretty chill this Valentines Day, not making a fuss over being rejected by Jihyo. Jihyo has already been abroad for several months at this point, so it’s given time for Seungmin to heal.

You make it through the day without too much distracting you, other than those thoughts buzzing in your head. The bell rings, signaling the end of the draining school day, but Chuu grabs onto your wrist and drags you into an empty classroom.

Your stomach starts churning once more when you see Jeongin and Seungmin in the room. Flinching when Chuu slams the door close a little too hard, you watch as she walks to the center of the room.

“Seungmin, you’re only here if I need backup, okay?” Chuu eases down Seungmin’s nerves, to which he responds with a nod.

“So,” Chuu takes a deep breath. “Don’t you have something to say to me, Y/N and Jeongin?”

You’re caught off guard by the sudden question. “What- What do you mean?”

Chuu only laughs, “You and Jeongin teamed up to make sure I fall in love with Jeongin this year, right?”

You and Jeongin freeze.

“And also, you tried to make Seungmin fall in love with Y/N, yes? But it didn’t work out, which brings us here,” Chuu crosses her arms over her chest. “You know, you almost did make me fall in love with Jeongin. Remember our conversation yesterday, Y/N? About how I was gonna confess to Jeongin?”

You don’t bother to move a muscle, but Jeongin, across the room from you, looks stunned.

“Well, I never bothered with that plan anymore. I realized that I only merely had a crush on Jeongin, and crushes never go that far. So with that being said-”

“Why are you... ruining everything now?” you take the chance to ask Chuu, but your question comes out in a more timid tone than you had anticipated.

“Ruining everything, you say?” Chuu scoffs. “That’s not what I’m doing here! I’m making sure everybody gets the ending they’re happy with.”

“But this isn’t how it was supposed to go!” you finally yell at the top of your lungs. “Jeongin liked you, and now you like Jeongin. The two of you already have a happy ending, why do you need to push this further?”

“Because you like Jeongin, that’s why!”

You shut your mouth before you could utter another word, panic spreading all over your body. Not even making the effort to look at Jeongin’s current expression, you raise your head up to look at Seungmin, who looks like he could offer you no help whatsoever.

It’s all falling apart.

“Y/N-” Jeongin attempts to speak, but you cut him off without realizing.

“I.. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“You’re running away, Y/N,” Chuu states, which makes you grit your teeth.

“Wait, Y/N, just listen to me-”

“Please, not now-”

“Y/N!”

Once Jeongin shouts your name, Chuu accidentally releases her grip on your wrist, and you flee the classroom, sprinting as fast as you could in your school shoes. Chuu stares at Jeongin once you swiftly exit the classroom, to which Jeongin responds by running after you, Chuu following behind right after after thanking Seungmin for being there.

“You can’t force love! You can’t make two people fall in love with each other!” Chuu tries to tell you while running through the hallways. “Love happens naturally. I might love Jeongin, but Jeongin only had a crush on me, that’s not the same!”

“So I’m willing to put aside my feelings to help two people who truly, genuinely, love each other without any doubt in their hearts! Can’t you see? Jeongin loves you, not me. And you love Jeongin, not anybody else.”

And then Jeongin snaps.

“SHE’S RIGHT!” Jeongin booms. “Y/L/N Y/N, you’re the one I love! I love y-”

But you’re already gone from their sight. The school entrance has no people around, not even a silhouette of you running in the distance. The two catching their breaths at the entrance of your high school, their shoulders slump over in defeat.

Of course, it doesn’t end there.

Hours after the incident, hours after crying over the mixed emotions you experienced this Valentines Day, your doorbell is rung. You hesitate on whether you should even answer the door in the first place, sifting through the possible scenarios in your head. Your feet answers first, though, making your way to the door before your brain could even stop your motions.

It’s a letter, and you know that handwriting.

“come upstairs!”

And despite how reluctant you are, you still head to his apartment.

Jeongin greets you at the door, still wearing his school uniform just like you. In his hand is a rubber spatula, which is somewhat odd because you’ve never seen him hold kitchen utensils unless you were teaching him how to cook.

But there’s the aroma of food coming from the kitchen, one of various vegetables, and even the smell of meat. When you turn the corner, you infer that Jeongin was attempting to cook one of your one pot pasta meals, and it seemed to be almost done.

“Honestly,” Jeongin quickly goes back to tending to his cooking. “I wasn’t even sure if you were going to come, and that would be bad because this is two servings of pasta. But I knew you wouldn’t left me hanging.”

You hum, taking a seat at the dining table that was sparkling clean (something Jeongin kept up with even after you cleaned his apartment). Jeongin brings over two plates of pasta, steam still coming off of them.

“Try it! It’s your recipe, so unless I messed up something, it should be good,” Jeongin dives in with a fork, slurping up the noodles eagerly as you do the same.

“It’s good, really good, actually,” you compliment him. “But why did you invite me over here?”

“Well,” Jeongin says with food still in his mouth, but he swallows shortly after. “This is a date.”

You almost choke on your food at the word “date” coming out of his mouth. “But what about Chuu-”

“Didn’t you hear Chuu while we were running earlier? She’s content at the fact that we’re about to become a couple. She told me that she rarely ever saw you as bright and as happy before you met me, that’s a good sign, right?” Jeongin smiles at you, and it’s that smile again.

“A good sign that...?”

“You love me too.”

You pause your movements for a full three second, before you laugh tiredly. The realization hits you while you twirl your pasta with your fork. “This is weird.”

“What is?”

“That we tried to be each other’s cupid, but ended up falling for each other instead.”

Your analogy makes Jeongin burst into laughter, nodding his head excessively. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The two of you eat Jeongin’s food in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Jeongin speaks up again.

“Does that mean that I shot an arrow at myself then?!” Jeongin gawks at you comedically, almost making you choke on his food.

“Perhaps,” you simply shrug, leaving your, what you assume you could finally call your boyfriend, up to speculate for himself.

The cupid game was finally over, after many, many months of pinning.

And it ended with a pair of cupids, in love with each other.

it’s promo time baby!

follow my networks @fluffyskzclub and @/angstyskzclub, our members provide you with sfw fluff & angst content for you to read!

i’m starting an official taglist for my fics! there’s one for oneshots like these, and one for my stray kids ot8 reactions & scenarios! (not gonna bother with one for my blurbs, don’t waste your time on a 2 minute read fic LOL) just let me know through my inbox as to which one(s) you’d like the join.

thank you so incredibly much for reading “a pair of cupids!” this story was physically and mentally draining. i wrote the first 3 sections last week, took a 3 day break because my family visited another state, and then wrote these last 6 sections in a span of... 5 days? it was NOT FUN my back is killing me oh my gosh have mercy on me if you think this was bad

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ahsokaismyqueen · 4 years

Text

Being Loved

Pairing - Marcus Moreno x Pregnant!Reader

Summary - When Marcus gets a text from his daughter saying that you’re acting weird, he rushes right over thinking that something’s wrong. When he gets to you though, it’s not exactly what he had pictured.

Word Count - 1.2k

Warnings - None! Pure fluff!

Being a superhero, it took a lot to rattle Marcus Moreno. He had handled alien invasions, labs creating dangerous chemicals, even saved a few cats from some trees. Whenever he did get nervous, it had something to do with either his daughter or now you.

So when he got a text message from his daughter that said you were acting funny, and that he should probably come home, his heart started racing with anxiety. Not only because he knows that Missy wouldn’t text him something like that if she didn’t mean it, but also because you are seven months pregnant with his baby.

He had never raced out of the Heroics building and to your house in such a short amount of time. Marcus was fairly sure he could have given Blinding Fast a run for his money. None of that mattered though, all that mattered was making sure that you were okay. When he opened the door, he found Missy waiting for him, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping on the ground. “What took you so long?”

“Where is she? What’s going on? Is the baby coming?” He asked, the panic clear in his tone.

“Upstairs, I’m - uh - not sure, and I don’t think so?” Missy answered, calling after Marcus as he ran up the stairs and to your shared bedroom. He didn’t even bother to knock, using his powers to swing the door open, but what he found when he stood there stopped him in his tracks.

You were laying down on the bed, a tub of ice cream balanced on your belly which was covered in one of his t-shirts with tears streaming down your face. “Marcus?” You whimpered, obviously startled by how he had entered the room. “What are you - you’re not supposed to be -”

“Missy texted. What’s wrong cariño?” He asked, approaching you cautiously. Since your moods had been . . . well changing, he had learned that was the best way to do it.

You glanced back at the television and frowned, and Marcus was horrified to see the tears start up again. “He . . . why doesn’t he just tell her why he doesn’t want to be a father?! She’s his wife! She - she deserves to know.”

Stuck on bedrest, there hadn’t been much else for you to do other than to binge watch television shows, and as of right now, everyone had been talking about Bridgerton. You had no idea how much of an effect it would have on you. Watching Simon and Daphne struggle through her wanting to have children, and him not wanting to, made you question whether this was something that Marcus even wanted in the first place, or if you had pressured him into it.

Turning back to Marcus, you put a hand on the bottom of your belly, biting your bottom lip. “You . . . you want this baby, right? I didn’t . . . I didn’t make you -”

“What? No!” He said in disbelief, hurrying to your side and sitting next to you on the bed. His warm hand coming to rest on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “Of course I want this baby! I’m so happy I’m having a child with you.”

“But . . . What if the baby has powers and Missy gets jealous? Or what if Missy gets jealous in the first place? I don’t want her to think I’m going to love her any less because of -” The words came tumbling out of your mouth so fast you were sure Marcus was struggling to keep up, but as soon as you had started voicing some of the fears you had been tucking away, you couldn’t stop.

“Sweetheart, sweetheart!” Marcus interrupted, shaking his head at you and giving you a soft smile. “I think it’s time I show you something.”

“But -” Your eyes flickered back to the television, but he took the remote and paused it. You frowned, and you frowned even more when he took the ice cream away, but you let him lift you into his arms without any complaint. Your arms wove around his neck at once, snuggling into him and closing your eyes as you breathed in the scent of his aftershave. You were so glad it was one of the few things that didn’t bother your stomach.

“Hey, Missy? You ready to show her?” Marcus called down the stairs, and Missy soon hurried up, a huge grin on her face as she did.

“It’s time?” She asked.

Marcus nodded, and let Missy lead the two of you to the door that you knew was going to be the nursery. It was a place you hadn’t been able to step in since you got put on bedrest because it was such an unfinished mess it stressed you out. “Guys I can’t look at paint swatches right -”

Missy opened the door and your breath was taken away. What had once been a disaster of storage and boxes of unfinished baby items was now a completed nursery. Marcus carried you over and put you down in what had to be the most comfortable cushioned rocking chair you had ever sat in.

“Okay!” Missy stood in the center of the room, clapping her hands together and ready to give the tour. “So over to this wall,” She waved dramatically to your left. “We have some shelving for storage, a clothing hamper, and a changing table because babies go through a lot of clothes, a lot of diapers, and you need all of those things right there.” She then turned to the next wall in the room. “Here we have more shelving for all the baby clothes you’re going to have, another chair so two people can be in here at the same time, and some pictures of all of us!”

As Missy spoke you glanced over at the pictures, a soft smile on your face as you looked at each one. They were some of your favorites. All of you had your own individual pictures, but there were also pictures of Missy and Marcus, Missy and Anita, you and Marcus, you and Missy, and then a picture of all of you.

Marcus, who sensed how emotional you were getting, placed a warm hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze as Missy continued showing you every aspect of the room.

“So?” She said when she was done, bringing her hands together and almost jumping up and down in excitement. “What do you think?”

Your voice was weak when you responded. “You guys did all of this?”

“Well, mostly Dad, but I did the painting, and he did let me help put some stuff together - oh no, you’re crying again. I’m sorry! We can change it if -”

“No!” You interrupted her, shaking your head back and forth. Missy’s clear excitement and Marcus’s hard work was only making you cry harder though. The fact that they cared so much about this new addition despite all the challenges it might bring had your chest constricting with affection for the two of them. “Come here,” you said to both of them, gesturing them towards you and pulling them both into as good of a hug as you could manage. “It’s perfect. It’s beautiful. It’s everything I could ever want.” You told them, hugging them so tight you’re not sure you weren’t hurting them.

When the three of you pulled away, Missy was smiling, and Marcus’s hand went back to your belly, rubbing it gently. “We love you, mi alma, and we love this baby too.” He told you, his soft, soothing words putting you more at ease than he would ever know.

He had reminded you, that no matter what, this baby was going to be loved by an amazing father, and an equally amazing sister.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno imagine #we can be heroes imagine

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Presents and Kisses

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,858

Summary: It’s reader’s birthday and Reid has some surprises up his sleeve. Dedicated to the lovely @saviorsong. Happy Birthday!

The café was a small, single room operation so sound from both the dining area and the kitchen traveled throughout. And everyone heard when your boyfriend came out of the bathroom, throwing the door open with such force that a bang rang out from where it hit the wall.

The poor barista almost dropped a drink they were making out of surprise.

“Babe, that was the biggest shit I’ve taken this month,” Reid practically shouted as he made his way back to the table.

You didn’t bother to acknowledge that particular comment and kept your attention on Tyler who had also tagged along with you guys. It was better to not entertain poop talk seeing as how you were in public.

“Babe! Did you hear what I said?”

“I think everyone did,” you replied pointedly. He dropped into his chair, hands clutching at his stomach.

You continued chatting with Tyler about a class you were taking and Reid still kept fidgeting and groaning. He was normally dramatic but he was really hamming it up.

You turned to him with a raised brow. That was all it took for him to increase his complaining.

“I think it was the food. It’s gotta be food poisoning, I feel so sick.”

“But we ate from the same plate.”

A glance at the table showed a shared plate that had long been eaten with not a drop of sauce left on the it after you both had all but cleaned the dish. If he actually had food poisoning, shouldn’t you be feeling it too? Your stomach felt perfectly fine, if not satisfied.

“Everyone reacts differently to these things, you know.”

Tyler nodded seriously, corroborating Reid’s claim. Those two were thicker than thieves, always ready to back each other up.

“No telling how bad this could get. I’m gonna head home but you should stay, Ty can hang out with you,” he said.

“Really?” Your tone was colored with incredulously. “Today of all days?”

He completely ignored that and bent down for a kiss. You were extremely tempted to turn away but ended up giving in. Reid may be an idiot, but he was your idiot. Keeping up with the sick-as-a-dog routine, he gingerly hobbled out of the café.

And since he was your idiot, you knew something was definitely up. You didn’t claim to be the smartest person around but Reid wasn’t exactly subtle.

Immediately, your attention turned towards Tyler. If one was plotting, then the other would know.

The brunette raised his hands as if to keep things peaceful. “Okay, okay. Don’t be upset.”

“It’s my birthday and my man just ran out under suspicious circumstances. I have every right to be annoyed.”

“Exactly! You’re the reason why he left!” He paused for an awkward second. “Wow. That came out totally wrong. What I mean is that he’s setting up something nice for you.”

“He is?” you asked suddenly touched.

Reid was a romantic sort. Maybe not always so smooth about it, but a romantic nonetheless. And he did do things for you often, even if a good number of things were in an attempt to apologize for something stupid he did, but he had never done a birthday surprise.

Well, not one where he had kept it a surprise for this long. Normally he couldn’t keep quiet about his plans so you were a bit impressed that you hadn’t noticed until his terrible acting just then.

Tyler nodded again, this time in excitement. “Yep. He needs a few hours to get it ready though…we can either stay here or walk around. Your birthday, your choice.”

His methods may be, well, unconventional, but your heart beat a little faster knowing he was planning something. Your mind wandered, thinking up various possibilities. Two hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

***

It ended up being close to six o’clock before you returned home.

You closed the door gently and toed your shoes off. The quietness seemed that much thicker with anticipation weighing heavily.

A trail of rose petals wound around the living room and trailed down the hallway, presumably to the bedroom, but you got distracted by a tantalizing aroma.

You followed that into the kitchen instead and found a skillet filled with something delicious. Other bowls with other fantastic side dishes were arranged randomly around it on the countertops.

And then you noticed the cake. Unlike the others, the cake was displayed on the table, a package of candles lying next to it. You walked closer to get a better view and couldn’t the grin hat spread across your face.

Clearly, he had made the cake himself. Not that that was off-putting to you in any way. It was really quite cute.

He had made a small two-layer cake which in of itself didn’t look too bad. The sides were not traditionally frosted so, the parts that were visible, you could see that the shape and the softness looked about right. Kind of.

In lieu of normal frosting, he had attempted to coat them with a crumb frosting of some sort. Despite his best effort, the crumbs didn’t hadn’t spread evenly with some parts having barely any and others having too much.

It looked like he also had issues with the frosting on top. You guessed that he had tried to apply it while the cake was still warm because it was thinner than it should have been, almost glaze-like. Some had even started to leak over the sides before it was cool enough to harden up again.

Even with flaws, it was still the sweetest, frumpiest birthday cake you could ever remember someone making for you.

You stuck out a finger trying to taste the crumb coat when you felt a sharp smack to your ass.

“Oww!” Rubbing it, you saw Reid standing behind you with a towel in his hand. “Did you really just spank me with a towel?”

“It’s not time for cake yet,” he said. He was shirtless, tattoos on display, baggy cargo pants riding low on his hips. There was a hint of tiredness in his eyes but it was mostly irritation. “This part was for last. You were supposed to follow the roses first.”

Ah. He was irritated that you messed up the plan. But you were so excited to see what else he had in store that you didn’t answer back with a sharp quip of your own. “Then lead the way.”

With a sigh, he put his hands on your shoulders and walked you out of the kitchen. His grip was gentle though so you knew he wasn’t seriously frustrated with you.

The path of rose petals came back into view and you realized they were from a real flower and not plastic. A warm feeling spread through you and it only grew the closer the closer the path drew you to the bedroom. Reid stayed just behind you the whole way, your gentle guide.

“The flowers are beautiful, Reid.”

“I know. And a normal person would’ve followed them from the start.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. “The food all looked really good though. Three Michelin stars across the board.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, would ya?”

You pushed the door with your fingers, thoughts racing. What were you going to find? That fancy stationary set you’d been eyeing online? A fluffy, tail-wagging puppy? A chest of kinky toys?

With Reid it could any one of the three. Maybe even all three.

Tons of balloons were inflated and rolling around the floor, so much so that you had to kick a few out of the way to be able to step in. Even a birthday banner hung over the bed when he had thumbtacked it into the wall.

But the gift was unmistakable.

The large woven basket was sitting on the dresser, fibers dyed your favorite color was hard to miss.

Then came the stuff that was practically overflowing from said basket. You rummaged through it like a old woman at a yard sale, pulling out something new with every handful.

Jewelry. A soft blanket. Cans of your favorite type of drink. Hand painted ceramics. Some hard cover additions you’d been meaning to add to your personal library. New head phones. Dozens of origami creatures. A tee from your favorite team. Coffee mugs and several blends of beans. Hand-held tools to replace your old ones with. And not only a stationary set but a wax letter stamp seal as well.

And everything from the basket to the last gift followed the same theme: it was all in your favorite color.

You jumped into his arms and he caught you. “I’m—this is…this is…”

“What?” he said, his breath tickling your ear and fingers gripping your thighs tightly. “Impressive? Inspiring? The best goddamn gift you’ve ever seen?”

“Touching,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but you could sense the soft expression on his face.

“How did you even manage to find some of this stuff in this color?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you…”

He went on explaining how he started with the just the stationary (you were right and he had noticed you looking at it) in your favorite color.

Then he added the headphones, also in your favorite color.

Then he’d painted the ceramic pieces himself.

Eventually thinking up even more potential presents to get, he’d come up with the idea to do everything in that color. The tools were the hardest but he was very proud that he’d been able to pull it off with the help of a custom order from a local business.

“This is super touching. Thanks for putting in this much thought and effort,” you said finally lifting your head up to give him a kiss.

It was meant to be a quick peck but Reid’s lips followed yours when you tried to pull back, turning it into something more passionate. He even managed to lick his way into your mouth before you finally parted, panting for air.

“Mmm,” he breathed, lips back on yours. “You’re eager to get to the next event.”

You made a confused sound in your throat which he swallowed. One of his hands traveled up your leg and over your hip to come to a rest on your lower back. He turned you and that’s when you noticed the bed.

The comforter was already pulled slightly down and more rose petals were scattered all around. He laid you down on the mattress and prowled up your body. The petals were even more fragrant now that you were closer to them.

“What’s the next event?” you asked coyly although it wasn’t hard to guess.

“One kiss for every year you’ve been alive,” he said with a cocked smile. “It was either that many kisses or that many orgasms—I figured all those orgasms might be too much for you though.”

You bit his bottom lip and snuck your fingers under the waistband of his cargo pants suggestively. “How about both?”

He watched in rapture as you removed your shirt, eyes glued to your chest.

“Anything for you, babe. Happy Birthday.”

_______________

Yay! Thanks for reading. I hope this was alright.

In my mind, Reid is the type of romantic to make you things, hence the food, origami, and ceramics. But sensual time will also be included just because.

Honestly, he probably heard what Caleb did for his s/o and, in typical competitive fashion, decided he could do better. He roped in Tyler to keep reader distracted and spent a few hours cooking, decorating, and assembling the massive personalized gift basket.

They likely did reach fulfill the birthday kiss count but how many orgasms they managed to achieve is up to your imagination.

#the covenant #reid garwin #reid garwin x reader #the covenant imagines

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idontknowmyownmind · 3 years

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Hey so I know you technically don't take requests but I had kind of an idea for you and I know you're probably not doing mammon stuff right now but maybe something to get to later So here's the idea mammon Makes a human friend because they're human diaovlo is happy to let them live in the house of lamination But let's say this human friend starts doing all the things that the bros used to do with mammon and the brothers start getting jealous of this friend I don't know why but this has been heavy on my mind I've loved this idea

Oh! That's a good idea!!! I, myself, also have some thoughts about Mammon having human friends because if I remember correctly, I've read his wiki page and it mentions that he often goes to the human realm more than his brothers. So, I think it's not so surprising if he ends up with some human as a friend.

Let's see what I can get for this wonderful idea.

• Mammon often went to the human realm for his schemes or to make profit.

• He accidently and unwillingly made friends with a random stranger he somehow clicked with.

• The brothers know about it, but they don't think any of it because they think their friendship is a kind of friendship with benefits (not in a sexual way!!).

• Let's say that the human is a straightforward person and will not hesitate to call Mammon on his bullshits but also stand by him. They are a prospective person and know what needs to be said, not say what they want to hear (unless the situation calls for it). They're blunt and most often appeared to be rude. They give and show their love in a mean way but perfectly delivered.

• That's the reason Mammon seemed to be attracted to them and unconsciously seek their comfort.

• When Diavolo found out about this, Lucifer accidently let it slip. He is incredibly happy because it's proof that demons and humans can be friends. You know that Diavolo is a man with many secrets.

• So it's a big surprise when one day this friend is suddenly being summoned to Devildom.

• The brothers who know a little about Mammon's human friend are curious about how they are because when they manage to make Mammon talk about them, which proves to be really difficult, he talks highly and fondly about them. Every time the brothers hear his tone when he talks about them, it brings an unpleasant feeling for them.

• The first few days went by normally, well as normal as it can be. But the brothers started to notice things. The human get along with the brothers just fine and they're mostly chill.

• Like predicted, they spent most, if not all, their time with Mammon in his or their room, or out somewhere.

• When they're together, they're a chaotic natural duo who can be chill if they want.

• It started with how they noticed how the human blatantly steering Mammon away if they saw the brothers started to make fun of him outside the house (R.A.D or anywhere where they can take Mammon away).

• Distract him from his brothers and their way makes it hard for the brothers to interfere.

• When they accuse him for things, the human will make snarky and sharp comments in an innocent manner. Unless Mammon really did the thing, they will also call him on his bullshit. Their comments sometimes stuck in their mind and heart.

• (HC) Mammon is a good cook. But it's very rare for him to cook because he is too lazy for it. His cooking is the brothers favourite because it tastes wonderful (since he makes it with love).

• So imagine their surprise when they found Mammon cooking in the kitchen when they arrived downstairs to eat.

• (HC) They have schedules on who will cook for the day but mostly it was their cook.

• They think he cooks for them despite it's too early for breakfast. They tried to act casually while sitting at the dining table.

• Beel went to him to look at what he cooked and wanted a taste (Mammon never refused to give him any even though he complained). To his surprise, Mammon is cooking human meals.

• When Beel wanted to take some of the food, Mammon slapped his hand away saying that it's not for him.

• He asks who it is for and Mammon answers that it's for the human. He said they want to bring a human bento box to school so he decided to make some for them (and himself).

• Beel complained why not let their cook prepare it but Mammon saying, in his tsundere way, that he wants them to feel and taste the homemade bento rather than the one made by a professional.

• Asmo and Levi obliviously started bitching around why he doesn't cook for them too. Mammon rolled his eyes and said that they can cook for themselves so why would he. He told them how his friends can't cook to save life and he has to take the matter at hand, implying that he often cooks for them before and after they arrived here where it's been millennia since they tasted his cooking. (No wonder they sometimes smell lingering homemade meals in the kitchen).

• Satan and Belphi give him snarky comments to disguise their displeasure while Beel looks upset and Lucifer just stays silent.

• Mammon never cooks for someone outside their family circle. It used to be their thing.

• (HC) Mammon is actually smart (not as smart as Luci or Satan but his brain work differently if you know what I mean?), above average while his human is decent.

• You see, no one really went to the house library except Satan who may just make the place his bedroom.

• One day, when Satan is chilling in there while reading new books. Mammon and his friend went inside to study. Apparently the human want to study more about Devildom but also about human courses and Mammon helps them. Satan scoffed at that.

• Mammon demonstrates or shows some unique and interesting way to study, some of the things Satan still brings with himself until this moment. Lucifer was the one who introduced him to reading but Mammon was the one who brought him to like it. So seeing them study, while having fun, and enjoy it brings some good memories between him and the second born. But he also feels unpleasant seeing them as he thought that fun study seasons are just their, Mammon and Satan, thing.

• Mammon often act stupid so he doesn't need to study or help someone study.

• Levi and Mammon used to be the troublemaker of the gang, partner in crime, each other ride or die. When they were up to something or didn't feel like talking, no words were needed and they just needed a little gesture to understand each other. Don't tell anyone but Levi was proud of it, thinking that it's something special between them and no one has, or is able to have, it with Mammon.

• But then he started to notice the way Mammon and the human communicate. When something amusing happens and one of them wants to let the others know, they just need to have each other's attention and talk with their eyes and a little gestures here and there. Their facial expressions are an addition. Sometimes when they are near, a little tap or touch is needed.

• Everytime it happens in front of his eyes, Levi is burning with jealousy.

• Lucifer prides himself on being able to read his brothers, especially the second born. Because he knows him longer and for a long time it's just the two of them before the others join their little family. He prided himself that no one can't understand Mammon as well as him.

• But he came to doubt it when he noticed how the human always catched a little change in Mammon's expressions, tones or body language. Depending on what the changes cause, the human seems to know what they need to do and say. Sometimes they just sit close or distract him with small silly talk. And whatever gestures they provide and give always manage to ease Mammon.

• Belphie went downstairs in the middle of the night, having a nightmare and doesn't want to disturb his twin.

• He found Mammon in the kitchen making some drink which he identifies as something he used to make when one of his younger brothers had a nightmare or when Lucifer worked too much. Belphie used to come to Mammon when he had a nightmare and the older one would make him drink and then ease him to sleep. After that, he would had the best sleep.

• He silently sits on the seat in the kitchen and silently hopes that Mammon will come and make sure that he is alright and sleep peacefully after.

• When he heard something placed beside him, he peered a little and found Mammon gave him a little smile before ruffling his hair and went outside.

• He frowned and turned his head to the side to see where Mammon went.

• From there, he can see Mammon walking to the living room and found that the human is there. It seemed like they had a nightmare. Mammon sits beside them and gives them the drink, they exchange soft murmuring words.

• Despite the unpleasant feeling he feels, he doesn't really mind. Until he heard a familiar melody. It started with a quiet hum but it became clearer.

• That's a lullaby Mammon used to sing for the brothers, for him. The one Mammon said that he created the random, but shooting, tunes for Belphie. When he was a child, he often had nightmares and it was kind of hard to make him go back to sleep. But since Mammon started humming or singing the lullaby, it became easier.

• The first time he heard Mammon also sang it to the others, it made him really upset because he thought it's for him and just him. Mammon convinced him that it's his and he is the sole reason he created it not the other so it's really special and he just wants the other to know too. He then make them to perfect the lullaby to make it them, but Belphie favourite is always the original one.

• But now, seeing and hearing his brother sang it to someone else, to the human, a stranger and an outsider makes him angry and sad. He loudly stomps away ignoring his call asking is there something wrong.

• The first few years they arrived at the Devildom, Asmo was in his lowest self. One of the many ways Mammon used to cheer him up is to bring a lot of beautiful things for him. He still keeps them, saving them as his most treasured treasure. Up until now, Mammon still brings him something he thinks is pretty or reminds him of Asmo.

• Although he critisted them sometimes or teased him of it, he still kept them. Asmo most favourite is the bracelet he's wearing. This is the very first thing Mammon gave him after they fell and it turns out he made it by himself.

• It's not as beautiful as his other accessories by any means, but he loves it so much. There was a time when he misplaced it and he literally trashed his room and so upset he cried for hours. The others try to help finding it or tell him that maybe he needs something new which got him angry at them.

• Turn out it was with Mammon all the time because he found something need to be fixed. So he fixed it by himself and added some additional things, saying that to make it more presentable. He is relieved that at least it's not gone and is upset at Mammon, telling him that he should let him know then make him so scared thinking he may lose it. But he incredibly grateful for his effort.

• It's been so long since Mammon brought him something. He didn't realize it at first but when he caught Mammon bringing something for his human friend because it reminds him of them or he thinks they'll like it. He thought when the last time Mammon bring him something.

• He left it as he thought it may be just one time thing but he kept catching Mammon giving the human thing he found or made.

Well, that all I could get for this idea. Hope you like it!!

#mammon headcanons #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeous #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #oc #human oc #the brothers are jelly #someone stolen their place lol

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a3shithole · 4 years

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Hi! If requests are open could i request Masumi with a new reader who just joined the spring truope (who at first is really quiet but when they open up their chaotic side comes out) and he finds himself slowly falling for them and moving on from Izumi?

Bonus if the reader is a meme lord and does the most weird/cursed things for funzies and enjoys making their friends laugh with their stupid shenanigans.

This is such an interesting idea! I feel honored to receive this, thank you for requesting! ⌒°ʚ(ෆ❛ั ᴗ ❛ัʃƪ)ɞ♡°⌒

This will be my third time writing him, and all of them are from requests haha (≡^∇^≡) I honestly had a hard time writing chaotic reader, let alone a meme lord type of person, so I'm sorry in advance that this turns really cringy (^^")

Sorry that I'm slow at doing requests, I was too absorbed into A3!'s last event (Various Vow of Love) haha >///<

Also happy early birthday Masumi! Hope you like this and have a nice day 🌻

Masumi x reader (gender-neutral)

Reader is a new member of Spring Troupe

1294 word

He's been frowning ever since this morning.

Masumi usually still half-asleep when it's time for morning rehearsal, but his eyes turn wide open, as soon as the Director walks into the room. With a stranger. Closely stand near Izumi.

That stranger is you.

Izumi introduces you as the new member for Spring Troupe from now on. You meekly said your name to everyone in the room. The members of Spring Troupe welcomed you with open arms, making sure you adapt to the new environment feeling comfortable. Except for Masumi.

He despises how physically close you are to the Director on the whole rehearsal. He is jealous of how the Director gave her full attention to you. And he almost tackles you--thanks to Chikage and Itaru who holds him--because you praised how tasty Izumi's curry at lunchtime, and resulting in you getting an extra portion from her.

He hates you as the new rookie who's trying to steal the Director away from him.

You are aware of how Masumi has been staring at you since you arrived here. You just didn't understand what did you do to upset him.

"Don't mind him," you turned your head to the other member of Spring Troupe that's been playing on his phone--Itaru was it?

Easier said than done

You exhaled, not realizing you've been holding your breath. You are shy when you are in a new place, but with the addition of someone having vendetta towards you on the first day?

"Umm... Did I do something wrong to him?" you asked the gamer besides you.

"Nope. It's just him being his usual self," he answered casually while still focusing on attacking a slime creature on his phone.

"He is extremely inflated when it comes to the Director, you see~"

"Infatuate. And he's been like that towards the Director for years now. I'm sorry you're experiencing this on your first day."

You just nod to the foreigner and the playwright as a response. While it's a bit of a relief that it was not your fault for him to stare at you full of hatred, if looks could kill, you'd be dead by now.

You yelped in surprise when you realized Masumi stood beside you, staring you down like a small critter getting cornered by a predator. Before you even open your mouth to ask him, he cut you off with a harsh tone.

"Don't go near the Director."

"Masumi!"

And just like that, he went back to his room.

It was a short sentence coming out from his mouth, yet you felt like part of your soul just left your body. It's going to be such a long journey being on this troupe, you thought.

It's been a month since you joined Mankai Company and being part of the Spring troupe. You are mostly silent for the first two weeks, not knowing what to say and only answering stuff if it's directly aimed at you. Masumi still glares at you whenever the Director interacts with you, but that's about it.

But as time goes by, getting a bit more comfortable with everyone on the troupe, doing rehearsal is fun. You start to open up, revealing your true, loud personality to the rest of the members. And with that, Spring Troupe slowly rivals the energy of the Summer Troupe with you in the troupe. Poor Tsuzuru basically got another nuisance to take care of, he felt like he grew more white hair every time watching your shenanigans.

But it was also a fresh atmosphere for the spring troupe. Every rehearsal became so colorful and fun with you around. You love everyone in Mankai, and so do they.

And something changed with Masumi.

Every time you crack some jokes or do some stupid stuff, you do notice he always stares at you. Like, observing your every movement. Not with the ill-intent he does the first few days you join the troupe. Because when you stare back at him, he averted his gaze away from you.

Is he perhaps shy?

Because of that, you have a new mission to do; being besties with Usui Masumi!

"Bruh," you said, poking a certain gamer besides you, "how do you befriend an emo psycho?"

"You don't."

"Man, you're useless."

He throws the towel drenched with his sweats, making you shriek in disgust.

"That is so not pogchamp, dude," you said, throwing the towel back, away from your face to Itaru who is just dabbing.

"Please stop. You two are hurting me," Tsuzuru said from the other side of the room. You and Itaru look at each other and unanimously agree to do an outdated viral dance, earning a loud groan from the playwright.

"Masumiii! Check your LIME!" you yelled across the room one day. You've been trying your best to be close with Usui Masumi. And you're not going to lie, but it's so hard, especially with his lack of response in general.

"No."

"But I sent you some banger memes!"

"Don't care."

"It's Director's faves!"

And with the speed of light, he unlocked his phone to see the abomination you sent into his inbox.

"...why is this ugly dog hitting another dog with a baseball bat?"

"That's you."

"...what?"

You scoot closer to him as he scrolls on his phone, looking at all the crap you sent to him. You just laugh and try to explain each individual picture to him. It's amusing to see him so bewildered.

"Why are you sending me all these unfunny pictures?"

"You make friends by sending them memes! I think it's working, don't you think?!"

"No."

"Gah, so cold!"

"Ooh! Is that the Shoes Camel meme?"

You jumped when one of your fellow troupe mates chimed in to see at Masumi's screen, "Close Ronron! But the name's Suez Canal!"

You two start chatting animately about the recent accident-that-ended-up-being-a-meme, while also edging Masumi to also be involved in the conversation. Then the other four members of Spring Troupe slowly join into your conversation.

It feels weird, Masumi thought to himself.

On how natural you lift up the atmosphere in an instant, even though everything that came out of your mouth sounds ridiculous for him.

Maybe he judged you a bit harshly just because...

What, jealousy?

Why?

Masumi is confused.

This feeling...

He was so sure that he is so in love with the Director, he even prepared their wedding plan and their honeymoon.

Was.

And then you entered Mankai. And his life.

Never in his life, he felt this conflicted.

Recently he catches himself thinking about you randomly. When listening to a song. Or eating his lunch.

And he feels warm when you're around. The way you talk to him is... different. It doesn't feel like this when he talks to Izumi.

...why was he so obsessed with Izumi to begin with anyway?

Masumi is indeed confused.

"Hey," he jolted from a sudden touch from someone on his shoulder. Turning his head, you are standing behind him, with concern plastered on your face.

"You've been standing here for a long time, are you okay?" he relaxed a bit, "...yeah."

You might be annoying at times, but not the over-bearing type from his view, but you know when to tone down your usual energy, "hmm... just know that if you need any help, I'm here for you. I might be useless, but I'm not as useless as the 'G' in Lasagna!"

He realizes that maybe, he was too naïve for clinging onto what he felt for Izumi. He needs to grow as a person, sure, he loves Izumi. But he now realizes it's not that kind of love. With his newfound feeling towards you, however. It feels different.

For the first time, you see a smile on his face.

#a3 #a3!#a3 x reader #a3 imagines #act! addict! actors!#usui masumi #masumi usui #a3! masumi #masumi usui x reader #usui masumi x reader #fanfic #reader insert

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songsformonkeys · 4 years

Text

Bullet wounds & Bandages (dave york x reader)

Pairing: Dave York x reader

Summary: Dave shows up outside your door one evening, hurt and bleeding. You help patch him up.

Rating: Pretty safe. Some mentions of injuries but nothing worse.

Warnings: None

Notes: Written for @yespolkadotkitty who made the request below. She offered to beta too but it seems I have zero patience tonight so I’m posting anyway (sorry, bby, I love you <3). So the inevitable mistakes are all my own. You have been warned.

Bullet wounds and Bandages

It's just after eleven on a Sunday night when there's a knock on your door. You're already in your pajamas, curled up in front of the TV with a mug of tea and you eye the door suspiciously, wondering who would be coming for a visit at this hour.

Setting the mug down on the coffee table, you pad over to the door on bare feet. The floor feels cold in comparison to where they had just been wrapped up in a soft blanket.

When you look through the peep-hole in the door, your first instinct is to scream. Outside of your door, in the half-dark of the corridor, stands a man whose face is mostly covered in blood. Your heart feels like it's stopped mid-beat and your mind flashes back to The Shining, that you had stupidly watched on TV last night. Was this man gonna break in? And where was your phone?!

You're pulled from your thoughts when the man outside speaks. He says your name, closely followed by ”Please” and you know that voice. He shifts and as the light from the overhead lightbulb hits his face in a different way, you recognize his face too. It's Molly's dad. You've been Molly's tutor for little over a year now and while you've talked to her dad quite a lot and have even been asked to stay for dinner a few times, there's nothing in your relationship that warrants showing up at the others doorstep, looking like you'd been run over by a car. Yet here he is.

It takes you a moment to get your body working to pull the door open.

”Mr. York!” you exclaim as he almost topples over the threshold. You catch him and as your hand lands on his upper arm, it's wet with something warm and sticky. You don't need to be a genius to figure out what. The coppery smell in the air is strong enough that you can almost taste it.

You kick the door shut and lock it before hurriedly guiding Dave into the kitchen. He drags his feet and looks like he's one nudge away from falling over. You manage to get him seated on one of your kitchen chairs and in the brighter light of your kitchen, you can more clearly assess the damage. Dave has a split eyebrow, which seems to be the cause of the red mask on his face, and blood is dripping down his left arm and onto your floor. His shirt is horizontally split open and there's a long, slightly curved wound across his chest, like a fleshy grin.

”Mr. York, stay here! I'm gonna call an ambulance!” you tell him but before you have a chance to move, his right hand captures yours, pulling your attention back to his face.

”No ambulance,” he croaks and you give him a disbelieving look. Is he currently aware of the horrific picture he's currently making? ”I just need you.”

For the briefest of moments, your body has a wildly inappropriate reaction to those words and something flutters to life low in your gut, but then you have to laugh.

”Dave,” you say, switching to the more informal way of addressing him in hopes of establishing some sort of authority here. ”You're hurt. You need medical attention.”

”And you're a nurse,” Dave reasons.

”I'm a nursing student!” you protest, the pitch of your voice rising just a little.

”You graduate in three months. You'll do fine. Just follow my instructions and I'll tell you what to do. I promise I'm not dying. I just need you to be my hands.”

”I...” You glance back towards the living room, where you're pretty sure your phone is somewhere on the couch. Dave sees you looking.

”No ambulance,” he grounds out and there's a clear tone of annoyance in his voice now. It leaves no room for further argument and there's something about the way he says the words that makes you think he would physically stop you if you attempted to get to the phone now. You sigh and Dave's shoulders relax as he recognizes your defeat.

”I have a medkit in my jacket,” he tells you and jerks his head towards his left side pocket. You fish it out and inspect its contents. It's quite an impressive kit and you wonder what a man like Dave needs a kit like this for? You thought he had an office job - something with the police but an office job nonetheless. Or maybe it was just the tailored suits he always wore that had tricked you.

Dave guides you through what needs to be done. You help him out of his jacket but are forced to cut him out of his t-shirt. It's already torn and he assures you that it's no greater loss. His torso is smeared red with blood and you grab a clean kitchen towel, wetting it under the kitchen tap, before carefully cleaning away the worst of the blood to be able to better assess the damage. The slash across his chest isn't very deep and you think you'll be able to get away with taping it shut. The arm worries you more. There's a small, circular wound that's still bleeding sluggishly. Your eyes widen with realization and you look up at Dave's face.

”You have been shot,” you tell him. It's not a question. Dave nods and places his big hand over yours, where it's resting on his left forearm. It's only then that you realize that your own hand is shaking.

”I have. But don't worry about that now.” Don't worry about that now?! You have half a mind to slap some sense into him with the bloody towel. Gunshots were definitely something to worry about, in your professional opinion.

”What happened?” you can't help but ask, because curiosity gets the better of you and you can't imagine a scenario where Dave York would get shot.

”Work stuff,” he tells you, ”I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but I can't go into more details than that, right now.”

The affectionate nickname is just enough to distract you from further inquiries and Dave takes that opportunity to continue.

”I'm gonna need you to fish the bullet out and sew the wound shut. There's a pair of surgical pliers in the kit as well as needle and thread.” He speaks way more calmly than anyone with a bullet inside them has any right to. Like you're the patient that needs soothing here. It feels a little embarrassing and so you steel yourself and try to distract yourself from the circumstances of this medical exercise and just focus on getting the bullet out. It works.

Dave sits patiently through your ministrations but the strained breathing gives away that he's not as unaffected as he looks. You apologize for the pain, even though it's not your fault. There's nothing you have at home that could lessen it right now. Not unless he drinks himself unconscious and if he did, that might come with additional problematic side effects.

”Are the girls at home?” you ask, trying to distract him, as you sew the bullet wound shut, ”Because if they are, we need to call someone. Even if you don't want anyone else involved, you have to do that. I'll sew you to the chair if I have too! But you can't leave them alone, Dave.”

Dave looks up, something curious in his eyes. Then he shakes his head.

”They're at Carol's place this week.”

”Good.” You place the last stitch on his arm and move to tape the wounds on his chest and eyebrow shut. Dave closes his eyes as you gently wipe a clean corner of the towel over his face, cleaning the blood from the crow's feet around his eyes, the beautiful curve of his nose, his smooth cheek and the corner of his lips. He opens his eyes when your thumb lingers just a little too long on his soft bottom lip – the fabric of the towel, the only thing preventing a kiss. You pull away and turn to rinse the towel off in the sink before he can see more in your gaze than you would like. Have you had a crush on Dave for the better part of the year that you had been working there? Yes, but that is besides the point and more importantly, hardly the reason Dave has come over tonight.

”You can use the bathroom to clean off the rest of the blood, if you like. I'm gonna clean up here.”

You don't turn but you hear Dave get up from the chair with a pained groan before slowly shuffling off towards the bathroom.

You clean up the kitchen and hallway as best you can but the smell of blood still lingers and you know you'll have to go over it again and do it even more properly tomorrow. But right now, you're a little too jittery for mopping the floors.

Looking down, you realize that you've got some of Dave's blood on your pajamas and also that you've stepped in it and are leaving footprints where you walk. You clean off your feet and quickly disappear into your bedroom to change into a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before Dave is done in the bathroom.

When he emerges from the bathroom, still half-dressed and shirtless but a lot cleaner than before, the two of you stand awkwardly on opposite sides of the living room for a few seconds before Dave breaks the silence.

”Do you think...maybe I could stay for the night?”

”Oh thank heavens! I was worried I was gonna have to argue with you about that too,” you say with a relieved sigh. That makes Dave smile faintly.

”Thank you.”

Dave does argue a bit, however, when you tell him to sleep in the bed while you take the couch. But you make a convincing case explaining to him how the wound on his chest is going to have a much harder time to seal up properly if he sleeps cramped up on the couch, and Dave eventually gives in. He wishes you a good night, casual in a way that you might be with someone you'd just had a drink with, not someone who'd just been inside your arm with pliers, fishing out a bullet. Then he disappears into the bedroom.

You go to your hallway closet to fetch an extra set of bed sheets. You're not sure if Dave minds sleeping in your sheets but you at least want to be a good host and offer an alternative.

When you get back to your bedroom, you hear Dave cursing under his breath and find him struggling to open the buttons of his pants with one hand. The other hand hangs limp and bandaged at his side.

”Oh, you need help?” The words are out before you have fully processed just what it is you're offering and Dave replies before you have time to take the offer back.

”Please,” he says and hangs his head in defeat. Too late to take anything back now.

You set the sheets down on the edge of the bed before walking over to him, feeling your chest restricting your breathing as you get closer.

You stand in front of him and Dave meets your gaze before you look down.

”Buttons,” you say stupidly, ”Trickier.”

Dave huffs out a laugh and you feel the soft gush of air against your face. His breath smells faintly of mint, like he's been chewing gum earlier. Before you can completely chicken out, you reach for the hem of his pants, picking at the fabric to help him unbutton his pants. You go slow, trying to touch as little as possible of him, but the fabric of his jeans is stiff, making it more difficult to get the buttons free. You can see why he couldn't manage on his own. On the second button, your fingers slip and your knuckles accidentally brush over the bulge of Dave's cock. He jumps slightly and his breath stutters. You apologize instinctively, as if you've hurt him. Dave doesn't respond and as you quickly move onto the next button, you no longer feel the huffs of warm air on your face so you're not sure Dave's even breathing anymore.

When the last of the button has been popped free, you take a step back. Dave's working hand twitches as if he's about to reach for you but then stops himself.

”There. You think you can manage the rest on your own?” There's a pleading note to your voice. If Dave asks for any further help undressing, you don't think you'll be able to survive with your dignity intact. Dave hears the plea too and he nods.

”Yes. Thank you. Again.”

You smile and give him an awkward little wave before fleeing out of the bedroom.

As you stretch out on the couch a few minutes later, you try very hard not to think about Dave's reaction to the brush of knuckles and the fact that he's currently almost naked in your bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you wake up before Dave does. Your couch is comfortable enough but it's not ideal for lie-ins. So you get up and start the coffee-maker. Then you wait for Dave to emerge from the den. But he doesn't.

In his defense, you hadn't told him to set an alarm but, for you, the daylight had also come with the realization that you have a lecture today that you can't miss. A lecture that would start in about an hour. If you wanted to make it on time, you would have to leave soon.

You walk over to the bedroom and knock softly on the doorframe. There's no response and suddenly you worry that Dave might have gotten worse during the night. Maybe there had been an injury that you had missed?

Carefully, you push the door open and look inside. Dave is stretched out on his back on your bed, his injured left arm laying along his side while the right one is resting on the pillow above his head. You follow the line of his right arm, along his bicep and the dark patch of hair in his armpit, down to his chest. Most of it is covered by the sheets and you can only just see the white bandage peeking out. There's a foot sticking out at the bottom of the blankets and you don't know why the sight looks so endearing to you.

Dave looks relaxed but he doesn't stir as you move into the room and you want to make sure he's really okay and that he hasn't bled through his bandages.

The one on his arm looks okay when you lean in to inspect it. The one on his chest, you can't properly see, so you reach out to lift the blanket just a fraction, without disturbing him. However, when you do, Dave's right hand shoots out like a cobra and grips your hand like a vice. It hurts and you gasp out an ”I'm sorry!”

Dave immediately loosens his grip when he realizes it's you, but he doesn't quite let go.

”Is everything okay?” he asks, voice a little rough with sleep.

”Yes. I'm sorry. I was just gonna check you hadn't bled through. I didn't want to wake you,” you explain. Dave only nods and pulls the blanket down for you to check.

”Help yourself,” he says with a soft smile and you wonder, is he even hearing himself?!

The wound on the chest seems to be in okay order as well. You tell Dave as much and also inform him about your lecture. You tell him that he can stay until you get back, if he still doesn't want to go to the doctor. Dave accepts the offer of staying and you're part annoyed and part hopeful by that response.

When you move to back away, he captures your hand again, and holds it flat against his diaphragm. You can feel him breathing under your palm and your fingers twitch with the urge to touch more of him.

”Thank you,” he says solemnly, holding your gaze with his.

”You're welcome,” you say, forcing yourself to pull your hand free from his loose hold. ”I'll see you when I get back.”

”I'll be here.” It feels both like a promise and a threat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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