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jtmarx · 2 years

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So I was going through my documents and found a TW fic I have no memory of writing. Idk where I was going with it, so imma just post it here

The first day of the new school year is rainy, which Liam thinks is appropriate. As if today couldn’t get any worse. Scott hasn’t even been gone two weeks and Liam already feels the pressure weighing on his shoulders. For so long, Scott’s presence seemed like it would last forever.

But now, Malia was in charge.

Which would be more comforting if she wasn’t attending classes at Beacon Hills Community College, which was on the other side of the city. And if ninety percent of the problems in Beacon Hills didn’t happen to begin at the high school.

Liam flinches when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He smells Mason before he sees him, turning his head to look behind him as he relaxed.

“You alright bro? You were just standing there. Usually that’s Lydia’s thing and it never turns out good.” Liam laughs and just like that, most of the pressure is gone. He looks up to see Hayden and Corey walking towards them and Liam realizes he’s going to be okay.

________________________________________________________________

Scott’s been on the fence about a lot since he started college. The most pressing matter being Theo. While the shorter boy had sworn up and down he was just ‘here for school’ and that ‘he didn’t even know Scott was going here’, Scott couldn’t help the feeling that Theo was lying.

But sixteen weeks is a long time to worry about your roommate murdering you. Again. And so Scott decides to trust him to a degree. Scott still waits until after Theo is asleep before passing out and he would wake up first if Theo wasn’t such an early riser.

And then there’s the matter of telling his mom and Stiles. Both of them would worry their heads off if they knew Scott was rooming with Theo. But Scott had learned that keeping secrets never turned out well. And so tonight, he’ll call them.

“I swear to God, Scott, I will drive up there right now and-“

“I know Stiles,” Scott says wearily, beginning to regret letting Stiles keep Roscoe. Scott didn’t doubt that Stiles could and would end their Skype call right now and be at UC Davis by nightfall.

“You can’t trust him, Scott.” Stiles warns, in reference to Scott’s new roommate, Theo. Scott sighs in response.

“I know, Stiles. But I can’t spend the entire semester worrying about being killed in my sleep either.” Stiles is visibly agitated on the other side of the screen.

“Stiles…you have to focus on Quantico. I’ll be fine here. If a weekend goes where I don’t call you, then you can worry.” Scott watches as Stiles goes through a series of expressions before grudgingly agreeing.

That done, Scott calls his mom and the conversation isn’t much better.

________________________________________________________________

Malia never appreciated the amount of eyes always on Scott. But now they were on her, always just outside of her senses. A twig snapping during one of Malia’s nightly patrols or a new car inside the parking lot – signs that someone was keeping eyes on her.

Satomi. The Calaveras. Gerard. Chris. Various Alphas in the surrounding area. It seemed everyone had an interest in the pack led by the True Alpha and how it would fare in his absence.

It is the beginning of another warm night as Malia begins her nightly patrol. In her coyote form, she sprints beneath the moonlight, somewhat freed from the pressure of leading a pack and going to college. She is near the Nematon when she notices, not for the first time, a black wolf.

Finally, Derek Hale has returned home.

________________________________________________________________

Quantico is no cake walk. But, Stiles doubts he would have enjoyed it much if it were. He enjoys the challenges, both physical and mental and loathe as he is to admit it, Stiles enjoys the lack of supernatural in the area. Or at least, he had been.

But he feels the itch, the one that he’s felt his entire life. He feels the need to explore things that may or may not be there, to push the boundaries of reality for the sake of simply knowing. He decides to see if the government knows anything about the supernatural.

“But you’re not just going to ask one of your professors, who are FBI agents?” Lydia asks over Skype, her tone on the friendly side of teasing.

“Like they’ll honestly tell me,” Stiles responds. “Besides, it’s only fun if I find out the truth for myself.” Lydia simply rolls her eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

________________________________________________________________

Derek has no issue with falling in line behind Malia. She can be aggressive and a bit too blunt, but Scott trusts her to lead and so does Derek. Perhaps because she senses that Derek, despite his Alpha powers having come back, isn’t here to take over, Malia has no issue with acting for advice. The two have developed a pretty good system.

No, the issue is Cora. She remembers a time when the Hale family completely ran the area. She was young then, but she remembers packs meeting with Talia over every possible thing. Nothing happened in Beacon Hills or the surrounding area without it going through the Hale house.

But now Talia is gone. The Hale house is gone. The Hale pack is gone. And it’s ‘replacement’ has an Alpha who lives too far away to matter. Derek is an Alpha, but follows a Beta.

Nothing is right. Cora is unsure anything ever will be again.

________________________________________________________________

It’s a Tuesday when Scott is introduced to the supernatural around UC Davis. His biochemistry professor’s words are still echoing in his head when Scott notes two individuals and a third towering over them menacingly. He knows it’s not his business and he can hear Stiles telling him to stay out of it as he approaches them.

“Is everything okay here?” His tone is light, his body language nonaggressive. The menacing turns his glare to Scott and stands up to his full height, an easy 6’4”.

“Walk away if you don’t want to get hurt, kid.” He growls as his eyes flash yellow. Scott inwardly sighs, knowing he should have listened to his inner Stiles, but also happy he didn’t.

Scott lets his eyes flash red and the menacing flinches, sputters, spouts off a senseless threat and stalks away with one last glare at his two victims and their savior.

“Hi, I’m Scott,” Scott says, turning to the two.

________________________________________________________________

“I thought we were shapeshifters,” Malia states as she follows Chris Argent around the BHCC parking lot.

“You are,” Chris replies, keeping his eyes forward. “It’s...a stupid naming convention. Most hunters just refer to these guys as takers.”

“Why takers?” Malia asks, almost afraid she knows the answer. Chris doesn’t immediately respond, all but confirming her fears.

“Because they take their forms from other humans.” The two continue in silence for a while longer before circling back to Chris’ car. They had found nothing from the enigmatic taker that Malia had met earlier that day.

“This is bad, we have to find him before he kills again.” Malia says, frustration clear in her voice. Then, her phone begins to ring.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Malia? It’s Hayden. What does it mean if someone doesn’t have a scent?”

________________________________________________________________

“Ah, Mr. Stilinski,” comes the voice of Dr. Reese, one of Stiles’ teacher and the woman currently overseeing the library. Stiles’ head snaps up, making it clear that whatever is on his computer is quite engrossing.

“Yes ma’am?” He asks, his amber eyes locking on her dark brown ones. There’s a hint of amusement in her’s.

“Please don’t use the library computers for recreational browsing. We offer campus-wide Wi-Fi for a reason.” Stiles looks from her to his computer with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I was hoping that maybe I could find some references for a project I’m working on.” He responds, not a total lie. Dr. Reese’s face is unreadable.

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that any of our professors were giving out projects about magical creatures. May I ask which teacher?” Stiles opens his mouth but then closes it. With a sigh, he closes out the computer and heads back to his dorm.

________________________________________________________________

Chris is talking to the pack about rumors of a pack war in eastern California when the door to the McCall front door is opened. He gives his girlfriend an inquisitive look.

“Didn’t you lock that?” He asks, his hand lowering towards his holstered Glock. The sound of heavy footsteps ring through the house and before anyone can react, a semi-familiar voice rings out.

“Chris! Where the hell are you?!” A second later, Isaac Lahey appears in the McCall kitchen. His hair is significantly longer than Derek remembers, with curls descending almost past his shoulders and adding an additional two inches to his already impressive height.

There are various choruses of surprise and ‘welcome homes’, as well as confusion from the newer member of the pack. Isaac ignores all of them, however, in favor of glaring at Chris, who has a grin on his face.

“Congratulations, you’ve passed your final test. You made pretty good time, too.” He said lightly.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind as Isaac and Chris stare at each other across her kitchen.

“He left me in France!” Isaac roared and for the first time, Chris seems to be genuinely concerned.

“Isaac, I told you that I couldn’t be there for the final hunter test,” Chris says calmly. Isaac throws his hands in response.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to desert me on the other side of the planet!” Isaac takes a deep breath and some of the tension seems to exit the room. Still, everyone’s eyes bounce back between Chris and Isaac.

“I know how you feel, Isaac, I do. My dad dropped me off in India. It sucks.” Chris says before taking a few cautious steps towards Isaac. There is a short pause before the older man wraps his arms around Isaac.

“But know this. I am so proud of you.”

________________________________________________________________

“Lydia?” A vaguely familiar voice exclaims, causing Lydia to turn around. She’s surprised to see Danny with a wide grin on his face. A similar smile brightens her face as she goes to hug him.

��Danny! It’s been forever! How have you been?” She asks. They are just outside of the west campus, with a soft breeze making its presence felt outside of Danny’s apartment.

“I’ve been doing well. Come on in, we just made chicken alfredo!” Danny quips, clearly excited. Lydia nearly asks who ‘we’ entails when she sees Jackson coming out of the kitchenette.

“Oh, hey Lydia.” Jackson says, his voice on the softer side of normal and his face more peaceful than Lydia has ever seen. The two close the distance and wrap their arms around each other.

“It’s good to see you again, Jackson.”

“You too, Lydia.”

________________________________________________________________

Liam has never been a big fan of change. It simply wasn’t in his nature. And yet, over the course of a few weeks, his entire pack had been almost completely reinvented. Malia was still, nominally, in charge. But now Derek and Isaac were here, two people Liam hardly knew.

He did appreciate how understanding both of them were, however. Nominally, both of them had authority, but they never held it over Liam. Still, it was strange taking orders from them. Scott and Malia have always been lenient with orders. But when Derek or Isaac tell Liam something, they expect him to listen.

Liam has never been a big fan of being told what to do either. It simply wasn’t in his nature.

________________________________________________________________

Theo is crushing on Scott. It’s a fact that he has been avoiding since they became roommates, but with every passing day it gets more difficult. It’s pathetic, really. Theo didn’t get crushes. He was the one who people got crushes on.

And yet here they were, hunting some piece of shit Alpha who had spent the past few months brutally abusing his pack until they revolted and began a civil war. And Scott, God bless him, took it upon himself to fix the issue.

Which is why Theo is stuck in his truck on the side of the road, with Scott passed out in the passenger side seat.

And now Theo is here staring at Scott with an ache in his groin and his heart, thinking about what could have been.

________________________________________________________________

Malia likes having Isaac as a training partner. He’s had training as a werewolf, a hunter, and abuse victim and it shows every time they fight. He is far taller than her and he uses every inch to his advantage. He is inventive and to this day, he has yet to try the same trick twice.

Today he has snuck in a small dagger and he wields it like an extra limb. The spar is exhilarating, nearly to the point of a real fight.

And when the two of them are done sparring, they race to the shower. They don’t bother with waiting for one to go first. After all, when they’re done showering, they’re just going to have sex anyway.

It’s light and fun, the lack of feelings freeing for both of them.

________________________________________________________________

Braeden has found herself growing accustomed to Beacon Hills. It’s big enough for her to be an anonymous face but small enough for her not to get lost in a sea of faces. She works for Argent now, nominally, although she is hardly there.

She doesn’t have to work while she’s with Derek. Somehow, the man keeps a small fortune even with all of the fully stocked safehouses he owns. But she needs something to do. So she takes jobs, mostly protection.

#JT Writes #Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf fanfic #theo #draeden #malia x isaac #chris x melissa #dackson #because apparently those were the ships I was going with #tw fic

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cophene · 2 months

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024 | poised to shatter.

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pairing : jojolion x gn reader summary : the heir to an limitless fortune goes on a vacation to morioh to find their true love. seems easy enough; only, if that they're unable to find their love, they'll lose not just their fortune, but their life. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.7k+

★ . . . YOU DIDN'T GET BACK TO your villa until the sun was already sinking below the horizon. Honestly, you hadn't planned on coming back at all, but your heart had needled too painfully at the thought of that.

Rai had brought you back down the mountain without incident. If he was confused by your lack of disappointment over not meeting the mountain gods, he didn't show it. You paid him the amount you had agreed on, and he wished you good luck before you parted ways.

You boarded the bus back to Morioh. Once you were within reception range, you received a flurry of texts from practically everyone. The thought of answering them all exhausted you, so you shut off your phone and didn't turn it back on for the rest of the day.

You felt numb. Maybe it was your body's way of protecting you. You could feel your emotions just out of reach, lapping against your mind like waves.

Despair. Disappointment. Fear. Anguish. They would crush you if you let them, so you allowed your mind to go blank. You would feel nothing at all.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. There was no sense in struggling for anything when it would all end soon. In a way, the thought was freeing. For the first time since you had arrived in Morioh, you felt light. There was nothing to work towards anymore. You could spend your time however you liked. You could almost pretend that you really had beaten the curse. Strangely enough, your brand had disappeared from your hand. The absence of it made your hand look naked.

The remainder of the day passed in a bleak, formless blur. Maybe you went to eat something. Maybe you went somewhere after that. Sightseeing?

An appropriate response might have been to splurge and use your fortune while you could, but the thought of getting more things only made you feel emptier. That you would die was gut-wrenching, but that you might live didn't seem worth the effort.

How ironic.

Every person you passed, you asked them to roll your bone dice. Most declined, but a few humoured you. The numbers were always low.

Which one of you is supposed to be my true love? Would it even matter anymore if I found you?

When you couldn't bear the crowds anymore, you stumbled back to your villa. The light was fading by now.

Three days from now, when you died, the sun would still set. These villas would still be here. Morioh would still be here. And it would keep being here until whichever unlucky member of your family came next.

For a brief moment the Wall Eyes flashed in your mind. In a few places, they had risen quite high, a few stories at least. If you happened to throw yourself off one of those ledges, would you die? It might turn out to be the only thing under your control, but maybe the mountain gods wouldn't let you die unless it was on their terms.

You found your villa. Went up the front steps and fumbled around for your key. You wondered how Sasame Ojiro was doing. Did he regret breaking into your villa? What if he had been your true love and you'd ended up throwing him in jail?

You finally got the door open. It was dark inside; Karera was probably still out.

You slipped off your shoes. Plodded inside. You thought about eating, but decided to go upstairs instead. How to spend your last days on earth? Maybe in bed.

A creak from the kitchen made you pause. You changed course and went there instead. You hesitated by the lightswitch, but didn't turn it on.

"Karera?"

She made a stifled sound. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her back to you.

"What are you doing in the dark?"

You went toward her. When she didn't say anything, you took the chair beside her. The silence felt like glass poised to shatter.

It took a few moments for you to make out Karera's features in the gloom. She had been crying, you realized. Her cheeks were wet. She had her hands clamped over her mouth, drawing in ragged, uneven breaths.

"What's wrong?"

"You're back already?" she said in a high, strange voice. "You know, we've been here for a while and you still haven't had a one-night stand yet."

Slowly, you reached out and tucked a curl behind her ears.

"Karera."

Her face crumpled. What she said next made your heart freeze.

"I don't want you to die."

She knew. But how did she know? The curse prevented everyone but your family from knowing its true nature. Who could have told her?

"What are you talking about?"

"I feel so stupid. It was Daiya who figured it out. She found your family tree. We noticed how weird it looked, and then Kei pointed out the death dates and—" Karera's voice cracked. "You're going to die if you don't fall in love, aren't you?"

You couldn't confirm, but your silence was an answer in and of itself.

"I had no idea." She reached for your hand. You let her take it. "All this time ... while we were fooling around ... you ... you were—"

"Karera, it's okay."

"No, it's not! You're going to die! What the fuck am I going to do if you die?" She squeezed your hand hard enough to hurt. Tears welled in her eyes, and when she squeezed them shut, they slipped down her cheeks in twin trails.

"All this time. How have you been handling it all this time?"

I haven't.

"It only just hit me," she continued. "Why your family is so small. Why your mom was so tough on you. This whole time I should have been treating this seriously and I was just off making things harder for you."

"I didn't expect you to know," you said quietly. "This isn't your curse. You didn't have to do anything."

"You're my best friend, Y/N," Karera said. The force behind her words surprised you. "You're practically one of the richest people on the planet. You could be friends with anyone, but you decided to be friends with me. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remind myself how lucky I am. You never put me down. You never give me shit. I'm a terrible person but you still hang out with me anyway." A sob left her mouth. "You're doing it right now."

You pulled Karera into a hug. Your heart nearly broke as she wept into your shoulder. You wished you could tell her that your friendship wasn't one-sided. You wished you could tell her how much you appreciated her honesty, and how when she looked at you, she didn't see your fortune but you.

In another life, if you hadn't been cursed, Karera might have been your person. She might have been it already, all this time.

Your words tangled together in your throat. You decided there was only one thing you could do now that you only had three days left. You couldn't tell anyone about it, but you realized you wouldn't have wanted to anyway. It wouldn't be fair to anyone.

"Karera, I met with the mountain gods today," you said, and Karera quieted. She looked up at you, her dark eyes wide.

"You did? What did they say? Did they—is your curse broken?"

You hated to lie to Karera's face, but you realized now that there was nothing for it. If you were going to die anyway, you were the only one who had to suffer. It was better for the grief to be sudden and unexpected than painfully drawn out.

No one had to know. You would pretend things were okay until they weren't, at which point you wouldn't be around anymore.

"I actually did what I had to do." You forced a smile onto your face. "I argued my case passionately, and the mountain gods agreed to lift the curse. No one in my family will ever have to suffer it again. We don't have our fortune anymore, but I think it's a fair trade."

"They did that?" Karera looked incredulous. "So easily?"

"Well, we're giving up a lot. And they told me they wouldn't have done it unless..."

"You are not going to skimp out on me now, jerk," Karera snapped, shaking you a little.

"They said they wouldn't have done it if I hadn't fallen in love already."

Karera had spent the better part of last night trying to needle who your supposed "true love" was out of you. You feigned embarrassment and managed to fend her off, promising her that you would tell her eventually. It also helped that you no longer had your brand. When Karera suggested getting everyone together to celebrate, you told her you wanted to wait until your birthday, so you could lump all of the celebrations together in one.

You couldn't tell whether you had fooled Karera. You knew she hadn't looked too deeply into things because she was still going through emotional whiplash. How was a person who was in love supposed to act? You were forced to muster up smiles and laughter and sheepishness. It was a good distraction. It was as far from despair as you could want.

The mountain gods had only given you three extra days as a courtesy. You had as good as signed your death warrant back on that mountain. There was no way you would find your true love and you were beginning to come to terms with that. The best thing to do now was to tie up any loose ends.

You wouldn't be able to say goodbye to anyone, so you would do the best next thing.

You managed to get Karera off your back by telling her you had errands to run.

"Sure," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "Errands. You go get it, I won't judge."

You couldn't look at her without seeing her tearstained face. Every time you thought about trying to come clean, that was all it took to convince you that you were doing the right thing. Why make everyone feel more guilt than they had to?

The first loose end to snip was Tooru. After the lengthy tirade Karera had sent on your behalf, all he had responded with was a curt message to meet him at the Honey Sesame Café. Maybe you shouldn't have wasted any more time on him, but you felt obligated to after all of the time you had spent together.

He didn't smile when you sat down at his table. Good. At least he wasn't going to pretend that things were normal between the two of you.

You launched right in without preamble. When you only had two days left, you learned how to cut to the chase.

"Why did you use me? What were you planning on getting out of me?"

"Glad to see you're doing well," Tooru said, unruffled by your surly tone. He tilted his head in that way he was wont to do. "Have you found your true love yet?"

"I have, actually. No thanks to you. I just wanted to settle things between us. Make sure things were clear."

"I see. That's very mature of you."

"You could have told me at any time that you and Yasuho used to date. I gave you multiple opportunities to talk about yourself but you never did. I was told you were just mining information out of me. Is that true?"

"I don't deny being interested in Stands," Tooru said evenly. "I was particularly interested in whether or not your curse might be the product of Stand energy, or if Stand could be influenced by it in any way. It's not everyday that you encounter an authentic curse. Bestowed by Morioh's own mountain gods, no less."

"I had everything to lose by being with you," you said. It was hard to be angry at someone so unflappably calm. "My feelings had to be reciprocated, and being in a relationship was the last thing on your mind."

"I was under the impression that you were seeing other people besides me," Tooru said. "I apologize if it seemed like I was vying for your attention. In a way, I suppose I was, but it was not in a romantic capacity. I should have made it more clear. That was my mistake."

Tooru's apology didn't quite settle properly. You didn't know who he was kidding. The times you had spent together had been dates, through and through. If you hadn't called him out on it, he probably would have kept up your one-sided relationship until he was through with studying you.

"Did you manage to conclude anything?" you asked. "Did I help you discover anything?"

Tooru's eyes flashed. "Unfortunately not," he said at last. "It was an interesting experience, but I didn't learn as much as I would've liked. I suppose I can always try again when your descendant returns to Morioh."

You couldn't tell whether he was kidding or not. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your dice. "Do you mind giving these a roll? Since you're so interested in Stands and everything. How high you roll is a merit of how much I can trust you."

Tooru took the dice into his palm and examined them critically. He dropped them carefully onto the table, and you both watched them settle.

"Five." Tooru said. "Is that good?"

You shrugged. "It's a neutral number. It could go either way."

Tooru looked like he wanted to roll again but he didn't. "I'm glad you found your true love," he said. "I truly apologize if I got in the way of that. That was not my intention."

"So you've said." You blew out a breath. "To be honest, I did appreciate your company. You were a grounding presence to be around."

Tooru rose from his seat. You were glad he wasn't going to draw this out any longer than it needed to be.

"All the best, Y/N. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Morioh."

The rest of the day was reserved for a dinner with the Higashikatas. Actually, it was really a dinner for Jobin, but someone must have leaked that you'd "beaten" your curse and so Norisuke was only too happy to invite you along. You were really just looking for an opportunity to talk to Norisuke, but you might as well use the dinner as the last time you saw the Higashikatas.

You made sure to dress up a bit and arrive ten minutes early at the Italian restaurant Norisuke had reserved tables at. It wasn't long after that the Higashikatas arrived and you were swept up into their controlled chaos.

You were introduced to Jobin, the elusive eldest son, and surprisingly, Caato, Norisuke's even more elusive wife. Karera was going to burst a blood vessel when you told her.

For the most part, you sat quietly in your seat between Daiya and Hato, listening to the Higashikatas' chatter and enjoying your pasta. Norisuke would usually bring up something benign, to which Daiya would make an eyebrow raising comment. Hato would scold her, Joshu would insult her, and then Jobin would blandly tell Joshu not to insult Daiya. Caato occasionally jumped in with a wry comment, and Mitsuba would tell Tsurugi to eat his greens.

It was comforting to be among the Higashikatas. Your family didn't often have large dinners, and even if you did, you doubted they would be half as lively. You felt a pang of regret as you realized you would probably never know what it felt like to be part of a family like this, one where everyone was different yet still managed to fit seamlessly together.

Eventually the dinner wound down into the restless final stretch when people started leaving for the restroom or for a breath of air outside. You took a quick break to the restroom and then idled there waiting for Norisuke.

"How was dinner?" he asked when he emerged.

"It was great," you said. "The food was excellent. I had a great time meeting Jobin and Caato. Thank you for inviting me."

"Well, this was also a celebration on your behalf," Norisuke said. "Congratulations on beating the curse. Your family must be immensely relieved."

You smiled tightly. "I haven't told them yet. I—I just want to hold onto it a bit longer. It almost doesn't feel real."

"Your uncle told me something similar when he finally fell in love." You and Norisuke began winding your way to the parking lot. "He was much more anxious about the whole thing than you were. He was always asking me about this person or other, afraid he would make the wrong choice. But things like this always work out. The heart never lies."

"About my uncle," you said hesitantly. "Did he ever ... I mean—" You paused, not quite sure where you were going with the inquiry.

"Did he ever say he wanted to break the curse?"

Norisuke didn't look at you. His eyes were on his family, Joshu and Daiya bickering about something while Jobin laughed at something his mother said.

"Your uncle cares very deeply about your family," he said. "He said he wasn't aware of how much until he came to Morioh to carry out the curse. He said he wished more than anything that there was a way to end it all. He was glad to find his true love, but it was torment the entire way. He didn't want anyone else to go through that."

Your throat tightened. It was likely that everyone in your family had gone through a period like this—one where the curse became too much. You wondered if your uncle would have had better luck convincing the mountain gods than you had. He had always been well-spoken.

"I wanted to thank you, Norisuke-san," you said, bowing your head. "For your hospitality and understanding during my stay here. Things would have been much harder without you and your family."

"As I've told you before, your family and mine are friends," said Norisuke warmly, clasping your shoulder. "It was our pleasure. But we fully expect you to tell us who your true love is at your birthday party. We're planning on hosting it at the fruit parlour. You'll be the first to sample our new fruit cakes."

"That sounds great," you said. "I can't wait."

You stood at the edge of the parking lot, waving as everyone got into their respective vehicles and drove off. You had been planning on walking all the way back to your villa (time passed by slower when you walked) but to your surprise, Joshu made his way up to you, his hands jammed into his pockets.

"Are you heading back to your villa?" he asked gruffly.

"Probably. It's pretty late already."

"Do you want a ride?"

You almost said no, but then you realized how big of a turnaround this was for Joshu. He'd had to pick you up from the airport against your will at the beginning of your vacation, yet here he was offering.

"Sure. That'd be great, thanks."

Joshu seemed surprised that you had agreed. You both got into his car and for the first stretch of the drive, you were quiet. Joshu didn't even turn on the radio to try to fill the silence.

Just when you were resigning yourself to a silent car ride, Joshu said, "So that's it. You beat your curse."

"Yeah. I guess I did."

Joshu wrinkled his nose. "For someone who found their true love and isn't going to die on their nineteenth birthday, you don't sound very happy."

"In a way, I'm kind of sad it's over. I'm going to miss Morioh."

"But that's not all, is it?"

"Since when do you care?"

"I just find it suspicious that finding your true love is supposed to be this whole big thing, but now you can't even tell us who it is."

You slumped in your seat. "Do you know the feeling of working so hard towards something but then being disappointed by how it turns out? But you've already done it and now there's no going back. You couldn't change it if you tried."

"What happened when you went to meet the mountain gods?" Joshu asked. "I feel like that's where something fucked you up."

"Nothing happened," you murmured. "The curse is over. You should be happy for me."

"I hope you're happy with whoever it is," Joshu said. The words could have been bitter but they came out tinged with something else. "I hope they understand you and genuinely care about you."

You glanced at Joshu, his profile alternately dark and light as you passed beneath streetlamps. It was hard to read his expression.

"I'm sorry about using my Stand on you," you said. "That was shitty, especially when we'd only just met."

"You should be sorry. It hurt like a bitch."

You're actually not such a bad guy, you thought but didn't say. You feel more than you let on. There's something underneath all of that snark.

If I had time, I would've liked to get to know you better.

"Say, why don't you roll my bone dice? If you roll over a seven, I'll do whatever you want. If you roll under, you'll do whatever I want."

Joshu side-eyed you. "There's no iced coffee machine around here for you."

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice."

Joshu pulled up outside of your villa. He squinted at your bone dice, but eventually agreed to give them a roll.

If you needed more evidence that Joshu had had a turnaround, here it was. Joshu had rolled a nine. A vast improvement over the five he had first rolled at the airport.

"Would you look at that," Joshu said, peering at the dice. You almost laughed because he seemed as surprised as you did.

"A deal's a deal. What do you want me to do for you?"

At the start of all of this, you would've thought twice before asking Higashikata Joshu that. But you were going to die tomorrow. What was the worst he could ask?

Joshu took his wallet from his pocket. When he withdrew a banknote, you squinted at him.

"That's kind of you, but—"

"Just look at it before you open your big mouth. Damn."

It looked like a standard 10000 yen banknote. Then—

"This isn't one of the Milagro Man's banknotes, is it?"

"Nah. I'd be dead if it was." When you looked at Joshu, he was smirking a little bit. "I want you to hang onto that. To remember me by."

"You want me to remember how you almost went broke?"

"I want you to remember that you helped me out that day. I don't think I ever thanked you properly. I don't know, to be honest. But, well, I'm glad I met you. And that you beat your curse or whatever."

You stared at the banknote. What would Joshu say if knew you were going to die tomorrow?

"God, you make me regret trying to be nice," Joshu grumbled.

"Thank you. I-I'll hang onto this."

You stepped out of Joshu's car. When he said he would see you later, you didn't tell him otherwise.

You didn't sleep at all that night.

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#okoshijjl #jjba #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jojolion #jojolion x reader #gender neutral reader

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foreverindreamlandd · 3 years

Text

Roses and Plums

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Bucky asks you to be his date to Scott and Hope’s wedding.

A/n: I mean it’s Bucky so there’s a fair amount of cursing, but the rest of it is just fluff. I’m at a point in my life where I go to a million weddings every year and I would love to have Bucky as my date. So here we are!

-------

“Fuck.”

Bucky curses to himself as he tries what feels like the millionth attempt at tying his tie. This had been his thing back in the 40s, he could throw on a suit and tie with his eyes closed.

I guess being 70 years out of practice would do it.

Also the fact that he was trembling with nerves about tonight. Nerves and excitement.

One last failed attempt and Bucky decides to chuck the tie onto his bed for the night. He looks himself up and down in the mirror, hoping his charcoal suit and white button down will be appropriate enough for tonight. Steve had said that it was supposed to be black tie, but why should Bucky worry about following the rules now?

Well, for one thing, he wanted to make sure he looked his best for his date. Part of him was still in shock that you said yes when he asked if you wanted to go with him to Scott and Hope’s wedding, and he didn’t want to do anything to make you regret that decision. Bucky smiles as he thinks back to that moment. How you cut him off before he could even finish the speech he rehearsed days before, talking about how it made sense that the two of you go together seeing that he was going to pass by your room on his way to the ceremony and they could sit together during the reception and obviously he would pay for your drinks and-

The smile on your face as he rambled on, his heart racing and hands making these weird manic gestures, made Bucky dizzy. You said that your only request was that he dance with you at least once that night.

Bucky swallowed as all words left his brain, and all he could do was nod in response. It had been a lifetime since he had danced with someone, but he felt like he could spend a whole other lifetime just dancing as long as it was with you.

But first, he needed to get this fucking tie on.

He looks at his watch and groans. Thirty minutes until the ceremony. It was time for him to knock on your door so the two of you could head out. He took one last look in the mirror and sighed.

“Alright Barnes. You got this. Just be cool.” He quickly ties his hair back, tucking the loose strands that couldn’t be held by the band behind his ears. Then, he turns around to grab his tie and walks out of his room down the hallway to you.

He stops at you door, looking down and taking a deep breath to psych himself up. He lifts his right hand and breathes into it, inhaling immediately after to make sure his breath doesn’t smell. Then, he knocks.

His knuckles can only make contact with the door once before you open it. You had been excitedly pacing right in front of it for the last five minutes, trying to get your heart rate to settle at the idea of spending the whole night with Bucky.

As soon as Bucky’s eyes fall upon you he feels his brain start to short-circuit.

You’re wearing an emerald green, A-line, off-the-shoulder chiffon dress with sequins swirling around the bodice. Your hair is pinned back in a low wavy bun with a few strands falling around your face. But what his gaze keeps falling back on was your smile, the way the corners of your plum-colored lips almost reach your ears as you look at him.

Beautiful.

Your smile slowly turns into a frown. “Bucky? You okay?”

He realizes that he’s been gaping at you, unable to speak for a few moments. He shakes his head and clears his throat. “Just great, doll. You look…” he looks you up and down again as a small smile forms on his lips, his eyes landing on yours, “Amazing.”

A blush peaks through your foundation and you give him a sheepish smile. “You’re looking pretty dashing yourself, Buck.”

Bucky’s smile turns into a small grimace. “Well, there is one thing…” He lifts his hand that holds the cursed tie. “Would you be able to help me with this? Apparently I’ve lost all skill when it comes to dressing myself in something that doesn’t consist of sweats or Kevlar.”

You giggle, reaching out to take the tie from Bucky and wrap it around his neck. The gesture causes him to take a step closer to you and his breath hitches. The scent of your perfume, the feeling of your breath bleeding through the fabric of his shirt, the way a bit of your tongue sticks out of your mouth as you concentrate on the task at hand is driving him crazy. You’ve never been this close to one another outside of sparring in the gym or under the cover of night, when you would run into Bucky’s room at the sound of his screams from another nightmare, crawling into bed and wrapping your arms around him, easing him back to sleep.

Being in such close contact now somehow feels so much more intimate.

You finish with Bucky’s tie, and rest your hands on his chest for a brief moment, eyes peering up at him.

“You’re lucky my brother couldn’t do this for shit, either.” You give a gentle pat to his chest and lower your hands back to your sides. Bucky fights the urge to stop you from moving and keep your hands resting against him.

“You’re the best, Y/n.” Bucky extends his right arm out to you instead. “Shall we?”

Your arm wraps through his and you give him a wink. “Let’s do this, Barnes.”

------

The ceremony was lovely. It was held outside about a mile away from the compound in an open field surrounded by woods. Hope had wanted to get married in the same church as her parents, but she knew that having a large public ceremony where the majority of attendees were Avengers who were dressed for drinking and dancing and not armored for combat was….not the best idea.

Still, Tony told her and Scott that no expense needed to be spared, and they turned a random area of land into an outdoor oasis, covered with lanterns and twinkle lights. A large tent for the reception that was lit up with various shades of blues, purples, and greens. Extravagant flower arrangements covered almost every surface. They even somehow installed a koi pond next to the massive bar area.

Bucky heard you gasp when the two of you first entered, your fingers gently grazing some of the flowers near you. He looked from side to side to see if anyone was looking your way, then stealthily reached down to grab a white rose from one of the bouquets, and handed it to you.

“Bucky,” you whispered, looking around to see if anyone noticed, trying to sound horrified but failing to do so through the smile spread across your face.

Bucky shrugged. “What are they going to do, send me to jail for floral thievary?” He winks at you. “That smile is worth doing hard time for.”

You giggle, twirling the rose in your fingers, and the two of you make your way to your seats next to Steve, Nat, and Sam.

You only cried a little during the ceremony. First when seeing young Cassie walk down the aisle tossing flower petals with the biggest smile on her face. Then when Scott got choked up saying his vows to Hope. You tried to hide your tears by subtly dabbing the corners of your eyes, but Bucky heard your soft sniffles. Somehow he found the courage to take your hand in his, and he caught your smile in his peripherals as you entwined your fingers together.

During the reception, Bucky made every effort to stay by your side the whole evening, only leaving when he saw that your glass was empty and he would walk over to the bar and grab you another gin and tonic. He never missed the way your eyes would light up when he returned next to you.

He had been nervous for weeks leading up to this moment, but now that he was here with you, he felt completely at ease. Being by your side, holding your hand, being in the presence of your illuminating smile, it all felt right.

The only time Bucky felt his stomach drop to the ground was when the band opened up the dancefloor and started with a slow song, the soft sound of a trumpet echoing throughout the tent for the beginning of “La Vie En Rose”. All of the couples started to get out of their seats and made their way over to dance.

Bucky’s eyes shoot down to the table, then over at you. You smirk, trying to feign confidence, but he can see the blush creeping up your face, hear the increase in your heartbeat.

You’re just as nervous as he is and it makes Bucky want to laugh. Instead, he stands up and extends his hand out to you.

“Promise is a promise, doll,” he says. You beam at him, and put your hand in his as he pulls you up out of your seat and onto the dancefloor.

The two of you stand in front of each other awkwardly at first. Bucky clears his throat and gently pulls you closer to him, putting his left hand on your waist and guiding the hand he’s holding to settle on his chest, his still wrapped over yours. The feeling sends a chill down your spine and you stifle a gasp. You lift your right hand and rest it on his shoulder, and the two of you sway from side to side to the music.

“Sorry if I step on your toes, Buck,” you mumble, staring down at your feet. “I’d be lying if I said I was a pro at this.”

Bucky chuckles, then moves his right hand underneath your chin, guiding your eyes up to his. “You’re doing great. Besides, it would be an honor to have your feet step on mine.” He gives you a wink and takes his hand back into yours.

You roll your eyes. “Alright, buddy. I think it’s time to cool it with the drinks for the night.”

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he says, unable to fight back a smile. “That would further prove that this moment is real and not another dream I’ve made up in my mind about dancing with you.”

He realizes what he’s said the moment your eyes widen, and his smile falls, heat rushing to his face.

“You’ve….you’ve dreamt about dancing with me?”

Bucky takes in a sharp inhale, then nods. No turning back now, he thinks to himself. “They’re pretty good dreams,” he says, almost a whisper.

You blink slowly, trying to process the words coming out of Bucky’s mouth.

He grimaces at your silence. “Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, doll. In fact, why don’t we just pretend I never said anyth-”

“Me too,” you cut him off.

Bucky’s mouth hangs open. “What?”

“I’ve dreamt of dancing with you as well, Buck. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you asked me to be your date tonight. I even asked Steve to give me dance lessons so I didn’t make a total fool of myself.”

“You what?” Bucky laughs out.

“Well, you always talk about how much you loved to go dancing back in the 40s. It was such a common thing compared to now. So I’m sure every girl you went out with was an amazing graceful queen who could do all these steps in their sleep. I just…” you look down again, embarrassed, “I wanted to make sure you would enjoy dancing with me like you did then.”

Bucky gapes at you. “Y/n,” you look back up at him and stormy blue eyes pierce yours, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier dancing with someone than I do right now. With you. None of those ‘queens’ made my heart literally stop when I looked into their eyes, when they smiled at me, at the feel of their touch. Not the way you do. There’s no need to compare yourself to them because there is literally no possible way to compare them to you. None of them have ever consumed my thoughts the way you do.”

It takes you a moment to form words in your head after hearing all of this. Bucky. Bucky Barnes. The man you had been in love with since you first laid eyes on him. Was it possible he felt the same way you did?

You lift your right hand up to Bucky’s face and you hear him gasp at the contact. Your thumb strokes his cheek and he leans into your touch.

“Bucky Barnes,” you say, and he swears hearing his name upon your lips has to be the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, “you truly are something.”

His eyes narrow. “I hope you mean that in a good way, doll.”

You smile, pulling his face down so that you can place a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes close in pure bliss at the feeling of your lips on his skin. You pull away and hover your mouth over his ear. “The best,” you whisper.

Bucky lets out a soft moan that makes your toes curl. His grip on your waist tightens and he gently pushes you back just enough to allow his nose to graze yours. You look up at him, eyes filled with nothing but a single question. A question that Bucky can only answer by leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

You sigh into his lips, allowing the feel and taste of his mouth take over every last one of your senses. Bucky, on the other hand, feels an electric current run from his lips to the rest of his body, and it’s as if every one of his senses is heightened, liberated while kissing you.

Eventually, after not nearly enough time, he pulls away and smiles at the dreamy look in your eyes. That look immediately switches to one of horror as you look at his face, lips and cheek now painted with plum-colored lipstick.

You laugh, reaching up to attempt to wipe it off with your thumb. “Sorry, Buck. Looks like I’ve left my mark on you.”

Bucky’s smile widens and he grabs hold of your wrist to stop you.

“You did that long ago, sweetheart.”

-------

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#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #marvel #bucky barnes #fanfic

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sunshineseung · 4 years

Text

Paperwork // Hyunjin

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ only) ☁️ | pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.1k 🌸 | includes: switch-dom!hyunjin, switch-sub!reader, oral (both receiving), PIV riding, pet names, begging, kinda goofy at first, cum swallowing, “sir”, a lil bit more but not too much

☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been working at this office for five painstakingly long years, but despite your best efforts, you never get a raise or promotion. When the CEO retires, his son takes his place, and seeing as you’re around the same age as his son, this could be your chance to get ahead.

🌊 | If you want to skip to the smut, look for the [🔥] because there’s a lot of set up for this one, but I know some people just want to get off lol.

He has finally stepped down. After 60 long, long years, the CEO of the company you work at has retired, as if he didn’t have enough money to retire 30 years ago.

The amount of times you’ve been told off by that man is practically uncountable. It felt like at one point you were going into his office every week to ask for any sort of promotion, raise, or even kudos, but every time, he turned up his nose and shooed you away like some kind of stray cat. You’ve worked too long and too hard to not be given proper treatment. Despite everything, you stay at the company, knowing no where else in the city will pay nearly as well.

The company now belongs to his oldest son, Hyunjin. He’s never worked in this office, yet the old man still thought it would be appropriate for him to run the entire company (supervised by a few HRs, of course). Hyunjin looked like a complete fool trying to command the floors of burnt out office workers just trying to pay next month’s rent and put food on their tables, not that he would know what it’s like to work for anything. The first job he’s ever had and it’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, who would have thought?

This is your chance. He’s right around your age, give or take a few months, and he seems marginally more friendly than his father. If you were ever going to climb the corporate ladder to finally move out of your studio apartment, it was right now.

Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt you own with the perfect button up to match, you step into his office after scheduling a meeting with his temporary secretary. When you sit down in the chair across from him, he just sighs and waits for you to speak your piece so he can get back to his grueling job of signing documents that he never reads.

“Good morning, sir. I was just coming up here to compliment you on how well you’ve been running the place since your father stepped down. It seems like company morale is at an all time high, and I can’t imagine thanking anyone other than you.”

“So you want a promotion, right?” He scoffs, grabbing a pen to click repeatedly as you struggle coming up with a response. You weren’t expecting him to be so quick on his feet considering he would stutter over every word talking at meetings. “I assume you didn’t come in here just to kiss my ass.”

“Alright, you caught me, but can I at least make my case?” He looks up from the pen to wordlessly incite you to keep talking. “I’ve been working here since I got out of college. This is really my dream, and it would mean the world to me if I could get farther, work harder, and, if you’re feeling so inclined, get a bit of a paycheck raise.”

“Well, you caught me on the right day, miss...”

“L/n. But you can call me Y/n if you want.”

“Y/n.” Hyunjin puts the pen down and leans on his desk, elbows propping himself up. “If you’re up for the task, I am looking for a new secretary.”

“As I’ve heard.” The rumor has been going around that his father left his secretary for Hyunjin, but all they’ve been doing if fighting, so they had to bring in a temporary one, the one you spoke with, to hold him off until Hyunjin finds a secretary he likes. “Not to be rude, but wouldn’t you rather have a male secretary like your father had?”

“No, no. I know what I want.” He runs his hand through his black hair, slipping out the ponytail that was holding the long strands out of his face. “I want you to be my secretary. No one else.”

He drags his fingers through a stack of papers on his desk, stopping at a five page contract booklet. He slides you the papers and the pen he was just fiddling with.

“If you really want this promotion, you’ll sign on that dotted line right now.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Working for Hyunjin wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Once he warms up to you, he’s actually really sweet. If you mess up his coffee or misscedule a meeting, he doesn’t fire you immediately, but rather just assures you that it’s okay and you’ll do better next time, a total 180 from what you saw that first time in his office. After a few weeks, you’re a dream to work with, and the job is a lot less stressful than you had assumed.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was beyond stressed. Meeting after meeting, signature after signature, decision after decision: it was all too much. The only time he smiled was when you brought him coffee in the morning, or when he’d hear your voice through the phone. He always looked forward to seeing you, even if it was only for a brief minute. You were really the only thing keeping his sanity together.

“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You put the cup on his desk as he reads a random document. He thanks you, as usual, and takes a quick sip before immediately regretting his decision when he felt his tongue begin to burn. You quick go to his mini-fridge and pass him a water bottle, standing back as he gulps half of it down to relieve at least some of the pain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get that hot!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” He sits back in his chair and slowly turns to you, meeting your eyes in a light-hearted stare. He laughs before finally speaking again. “You’re holding this company together, you know that?”

You laugh right with him, rolling your eyes at his statement. “Oh please, I just forward emails all day.”

“No, I mean it.” He holds his hands out and grabs yours, interlocking your hands in a soft grip. You could easily move back, but you don’t want to. “Without you, I’d be losing my mind.”

“Aw, you’re too kind.” You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. The silence isn’t awkward by any means, but you can’t help but wonder why you’re holding the hands of your boss. “You’re doing very well, though. You have some big shoes to fill, and I feel like you’re doing the best you can.”

“Of course you’d say that. You work for me.” Hyunjin lets go of your hands and leans back in his chair again, crossing one of his legs over the other and lazily putting his hands behind his head, lounging back. “Y/n, can I say something crazy?”

“Say whatever’s on your mind, sir. I’m all ears.”

“Ugh, drop the formalities. Just call me Hyunjin, okay?” You nod, letting him continue with his speech. “I really appreciate you, Y/n, and it’s no secret that my family is loaded, so I want to ask if you’d come live with me downtown.”

“W-what?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head. Living with your boss sounds absolutely insane, but any chance to get out of your shitty apartment is promising. This is the opportunity of a life time, no doubt, but is it worth taking? “Sir, I...”

“For fuck’s sake, call me Hyunjin.” You’ve never heard him curse before. “Listen, I live in a penthouse on the top story of a high-security luxury apartment complex. I’m all alone in a five bedroom apartment with a full view of the town. Going home alone every night is wearing on me, and it would mean a lot to have someone else there, even just to talk to.”

“I need time to think.” You look anywhere but his eyes as he leans forward and looks up at you from his chair.

“Take your time and think it over. I’ll give you until the end of the day.” Hyunjin turns back to his desk and looks at the paper he was reading before he burnt his tongue. “Go back to your office for now, but right after your shift, I want you here.”

“Yes, s-... okay, Hyunjin.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Everyone is gone except you, finalizing one last email before heading up to Hyunjin’s office. An office with no workers is eerie to say the least, and as you take the elevator up to Hyunjin’s office, you can’t help but notice how nervous you feel inside.

This is the right decision. As difficult as it might be, you’re going to say no to his offer. It’s extremely unprofessional to have any sort of out-of-work relationship with your boss. Thinking back to the outfit you wore when you took the promotion, it’s no wonder you assume you’ve made Hyunjin think you want this. Your apartment may be shitty, but at least it’s yours. Living with Hyunjin would cause too many problems in your life, and the last thing you need right now is problems.

He was waiting for you. With his head in his hands as you walk through the door, he darts his attention to you as you sit across from him. While it was certainly a familiar sight by now, he was just glad you didn’t run away from him after such an intense morning.

“Hyunjin, I just want to-”

“Stop.” He holds his hand up, pausing you mid-sentence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m just stressed, and I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have offered you to live with me. That’s not who I am, nor is that something I should have sprung on you like that.” He reverts back to his former position with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. “I just... I’m so lonely.”

You feel for him, you really do. He’s been thrown into this situation obviously not by choice, and he knows absolutely no one he’s working with other than you. With a stressful job and no one to turn to, it was clear why he was acting so rashly.

You pull his hands away from his head, holding them in yours like you did this morning. Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, you give him a gentle smile as he meets your eyes. The bags under his eyes are present, and his tiredness is visible. He looks so worn out to you. You really do feel bad.

“I’m not asking you to move in, but would you like to come back to my penthouse? Just for tonight?” He returns a smile to you, lowering his gaze blankly. “We can have a few drinks and talk. I just need someone with me right now.”

“Only if you’re paying for the taxi.” You two laugh together, appreciating each other’s presence.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drive us back to my place, and afterwards, he can drive you home.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Saying that Hyunjin’s apartment was massive would be an understatement. You felt like you walked into a penthouse from a dystopian future with shiny metal counter tops and black leather furniture. It didn’t look lived in, but to be fair, there was only one man living there. You felt cold even though it was room-temperature.

“Follow me, doll.” Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you to the living room to sit on his L-shaped couch. If his pet name didn’t throw you off, you very well would have just walked there without his assistance, but you didn’t know how to react after being called ‘doll’ by your boss. “Want anything to drink? Wine? Vodka?”

“I’ll take wine, thank you.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

Hyunjin pours you both a glass and meets you back on the couch, lounging next to you, letting the soft silence fall over the room as you each take a sip of the expensive booze. As you drink a bit more, Hyunjin’s eyes are glued to you, and you start to break a sweat as the temperature in the room seems to rise. He’s just... staring at you. You feel uneasy, but this alcohol should help calm your nerves, right?

Hyunjin easily notices that you’re starting to slip into deeper thought, so he carefully puts his hand on your knee to bring you back into the moment. His gesture isn’t charged in anyway, but you still jolt at his touch. You dart your eyes towards his while looking like a deer in headlights.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin slides his hand up and down your leg only from your knee to mid-thigh. With his other hand, he puts his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of you so he can totally focus on your needs. Even though you hesitantly nod, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “You want to know why I invited you here?”

“Sure, Hyunjin. Why did you invite me here?” The more he rambles on, the less you have to talk, so you gladly let him fill the silence.

“Well, to put it simply, I’m interested in you.” You tilt your head in confusion. Was this a confession? “You’re a very intriguing person to me. When you walked into my office for the first time, you suffocated me with your aura. You truly do command a room, you know? That’s probably why you’ve gotten so far in your career.” His chuckle is awkward, and you don’t respond in any way to help his nerves. “You’re a woman that knows what she wants, and I admire that, especially since I don’t even know what I want.”

“How don’t you know what you want?” Your confidence was slowly coming back, although you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or your want to pick at Hyunjin’s brain. “You have everything anyone could ever want! Look at where you live!” You gesture to the room around you. The modern art-deco custom paintings, the abstract sculptures, the fake plants that looked too fake to even be considered plant-like. It was a dream, especially for those that lived in the city. “You have the perfect house and the job position people can only dream of.”

“I don’t want this, Y/n.” He stands from the couch, walking over to the wall of glass that separates the living room from the balcony. “This house means nothing. This job position means nothing.” He can’t face you, fearful that you’ll see how weak he is. “I want someone. I want you.”

Silence. You stare down at your legs, unable to even process what Hyunjin just said. Your thumbs rub against each other, fiddling so you can focus on anything else. Hyunjin sighs loudly and turns around, walking back over so he can tower over you. His shadow consumes you, shrouding your figure in slight darkness. A hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to see him. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you as if he’s enamored by your existence.

“What do I have to do?” Hyunjin ponders, leaning in closer to you. The scent of his cologne clogs your senses, and all you can think about is Hwang Hyunjin. “What do I have to do to have you?”

Your hand goes to his chest, grabbing his tie. You pull him into you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Hyunjin puts all of his emotion into this kiss, promising himself that he’ll show his love through his actions.

Pulling away, you both catch your breath and enjoy the brief silence. For once, it isn’t awkward; the silence is welcomed.

“Hyunjin,” you twirl his tie between your fingers, “if you want me, then prove it.”

[🔥]

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, pulling you off the couch. He drags you up to his bedroom without saying a word, assuming you know what’s about to happen. His sheets are all black, neatly made without a stain in sight. Hyunjin sits on the edge of the bed, tapping on his lap to invite you to take a seat.

You straddle him, feeling heated the second your thighs come in contact with his. It feels unreal, but you want this now more than ever. You didn’t drink even an entire glass of wine, so you can’t blame this decision on any ounce of alcohol.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” He wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you into him so your body is pressed against his. “I need to hear you say you want this.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure I want this.” You shoot him a smile that never fails to make his heart melt, and he can’t help but kiss you again, his lips perfectly fitting against yours. When you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, he feels like he has reached nirvana. Hyunjin was been wanting this for so god damn long; he could bust in his pants just thinking about it.

His mouth moves from your lips to your jawline, not leaving any hickeys because he knows you have work tomorrow. His kisses along your jaw and neck make you moan quietly, and your hands slip behind his head into his hair. You curl your fingers into his hair, pulling it ever so slightly. He grunts against your neck, sucking harder than before, accidentally leaving a red mark.

He pulls off of your throat, breathing heavily, looking into your half-lidded eyes. Your hands rest on the back of his neck, holding him close to you. Hyunjin smiles lightly and pecks your cheek, making you both giggle from his cute gesture.

“I know I told you not to call me sir, but... maybe just for tonight, you can call me that.” Oh, he’s like that? You kiss him for a moment before pushing him back, his body falling against the sheets. Your body hovers over his, and you roam your hands over his chest and abs, feeling him from over his shirt.

“Alright, sir.” You smile innocently, leaning down, kissing his neck to test his dominance. He doesn’t fuss at this. He accepts your kisses, throwing his head back to give you better access to kiss his neck. Your hands roam all over his body, paying special attention to his chest, or more specifically, his nipples. He groans quietly, biting his lips as your fingers rolls over his nipples. “Oh, you like this?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sit up. Let me take your shirt off.” He laughs at your commands as he raises his body from the bed and unbuttons the top of his shirt before you step in and unbutton the rest. The slow reveal of his torso his haunting, causing your eyes to dart every which way across his body. He really looks like a Greek god. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me?”

“Oh please, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, doll.” There it was again. That damn pet name. He really was going to be the death of you, so you might as well enjoy this. “I’ve had dreams of bending you over my desk and fucking you during work, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?”

You gulp out of nervousness, unsure of where to go from here. You were in control for the moment, but now that Hyunjin was letting his emotions out, you keep getting flustered, wishing he would take the reigns over this situation.

“Aw, is my little doll getting shy?” He brushes his hand across your hot cheek, making you stutter out nonsense. “You’re so cute, baby. I could flip you over and ruin you right now, but we should take our time, right?”

You nod, tracing your hands on his chest again. Your thumb and pointer finger grip his nipples and twist, causing him to arch his back and fall against the bed once again. He’s putty in your hands again, so you up the ante by pressing your heat against his painfully large bulge in his tight work pants, teasing him just enough to make him weak. The sounds he’s making can only be described as sinful, and you love every minute of it.

You dive your head down to his chest, sucking hickeys into his defined pecs. Your tongue around his nipples makes him keen from pleasure, his hands petting your back up and down. When you lean up to look at all the marks you’ve made, he’s desperately trying to catch his breath.

“I was supposed to be showing you how much I like you, not the other way around!” He giggles through deep breaths, running his hands down the sides of your body. “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You shrug in agreement, dramatically throwing your body back on the mattress for Hyunjin to pin you down under his lean figure. His gaze eats you alive, skimming over your skin like he was about to devour you.

“You’re absolutely stunning, baby.” He kisses you on the lips, short and sweet, before unbuttoning your dress shirt and revealing your bra, feeling your tits over the fabric. His hands perfectly cup your tits, moving your bra down to play with your hardened nipples. You arch your back into his touch, relaxing and letting him worship your chest. He’s a master with his hands, making you moan and whine just enough for him to get even harder under his tight pants. “Can I take your bra off?”

“Of course, sir. Take it all off for me, alright?” You wink up at him, stirring a fire in his heart. He wants to take you, all of you, inciting him to rapidly strip you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. His lips attach to one of your nipples while his hand goes to the other, playing with the bud between his fingers. His other hand snakes down your body and unbuttons your pants, sneaking down to play with your cunt over your panties. His middle finger pushes your panties into your pussy, saturating them with your wetness. “Please finger me, Hyunjin.”

“Oh, needy already?” He leans up from your chest, sitting between your spread legs as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down enough to see his bulge under his tight boxers. He looked so big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. Your cunt becomes drentched in a second of you imagining his cock going inside you. “Staring isn’t polite, you know?”

“S-sorry, sir.” He pulls your pants down your legs, leaving your panties to be the only thing covering you. His hands hug your hips, pulling you right up to him. You feel his bulge against your cunt, making you bite your lip.

One of Hyunjin’s big hands comes down to your cunt, a finger hooking around the bottom of your panties to move them to the side, allowing him to check out your sopping heat. His fingers feather through your folds, circling your needy hole just to tease you. He smiles as you whine and buck your hips up, physically begging him to fuck you dumb.

“My baby’s pussy looks so pretty. I can’t possibly fuck her before I get a taste.” You watch Hyunjin as he scoots down the bed and leans down to be eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before diving in, sucking on your clit and running his tongue through your pussy. One arm hooks around your leg while his other comes up to play with your pussy, his fingers teasing your hole before sliding in just enough to make you whine for more. “You’re so sweet, princess.”

“T-Thank you, sir.” You throw your head back when he bends his fingers inside you, curling into your g-spot. Hyunjin hums as you moan loudly, hinting to Hyunjin that you’re close. “C-cum, sir. Need to cum.”

“Aw, my baby’s ready to cum?” Hyunjin teases, going right back to sucking on your clit and mercilessly fingering your tight hole with two fingers. His tongue flicking over your clit is making you so close, your legs shaking as he continues to assault your cunt. “Cum on my fingers, babe.”

Your legs violently shake as you reach your orgasm, all your nerves on edge as waves of pleasure drown your brain. You moan Hyunjin’s name over and over, holding his hair in an iron grip. As you come down, his mouth slowly detaches from your pussy, fully lapping up all your juices.

“Open your mouth.” With your eyes still closed, you open your mouth wide open and let your tongue out, letting Hyunjin do whatever he wants to your mouth. His wet fingers dip into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you taste your cunt. You suck lightly on his fingers, tasting yourself before he slips his hand out of your mouth, separating his spit-coated fingers to admire your hard work. “Good girl.”

Your eyes goes back down, staring at the outline of his cock in his boxers. He notices your stare, pulling his waistband down to reveal his long, thick cock, leaking with precum, ready to be stuffed inside you. “W-wanna feel you inside me~”

“Aw, but baby, I’ve fucked you dumb just from my fingers. You think you can handle my cock?” He presses the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing it in just enough to make you whine loudly. He smiles, seeing how fucked out you are so easily. He leans down to your ear, holding your hips in his hands. “Do you really want it?”

His voice is so deep and quiet that it makes you shiver, biting your lips before you can even speak. You breath for a moment to collect yourself. “Yes, sir. I want it.”

“Alright, baby.” Hyunjin gives you a peck on your lips before laying next to you, putting his hands behind his head. You look over at him puzzled, still collecting your breath. “Ride me.”

Hyunjin takes a condom out of his nightstand while you whine and breath more, trying to bring back any feeling to your legs. You regain your strength as he rolls the comdom onto his thick shaft.

You huff and sit up, wobbling before getting balanced on the soft bed. You finally pull off your panties before straddling him. Hyunjin throws his head back as you start to jerk his cock, feeling him twitch in your palm. With your free hand, you pull his pants down more to let you comfortably straddle his hips. As you lower yourself into him, you both groan loudly, you from the stretch and him from the tightness.

Hyunjin’s hands hold tightly onto your waist as you fully lower onto him, halting your movements to allow your cunt to adjust to his size. He bites his lip and stares at your face, admiring your beauty despite your messy hair and sweaty forehead. You slowly raise your hips, gripping Hyunjin’s cock with your cunt as you lower back down.

“You’re so tight, baby- fuck.” Hyunjin’s groans are loud as hell, echoing through the bedroom as you ride him, establishing a slow pace. You feel so full, his tip reaching deep inside you, and you love it. The stretch doesn’t bother you anymore, speeding up slightly. He watches your tits bounce on your chest, teasing him with their perky nipples and forming hickeys.

“Is sir close?” You feel him switch inside you at your question, his eyes squeezing shut as he nods and whines. His grip on your waist looses before his hands fall next to his head. You lean down and pin his wrists to the bed with your hands. Having your tits right in his face makes it even harder to keep his cool.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hips buck into you, fucking up into your tight cunt while you force yourself to stay still so he can let out his energy... and your legs were getting tired. He hits your spot with every thrust, desperately fucking you so he can release into the condom. You feel him inside you, his cum ballooning the tip of the condom, making you moan as he whines, saying your name like a mantra. He looks so hot under you, you can’t help but lean down and kiss his pretty, plump lips while he sits inside you.

“I thought I could last longer.” Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow as he pulls out of you, pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it towards his trash can. “You really know how to break me.”

He doesn’t realize that you’re still on top of him, moving down the bed to take his cock into your mouth. He winces when your hot tongue hits the tip of his cock. You lick up his shaft before taking him into your mouth, testing your gag reflex as you take him down your throat, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hands find home in your hair, pulling tightly as you bob your head on his member.

He’s totally speechless, his brain empty as you suck his cock like a pro. Your tongue feels like heaven on Earth, quickly making him fully hard again and bringing him close to another orgasm. He’s never been over stimulated like this before, whining like a cat in heat as he watches his cock disappear down your throat. You stare up at him, keeping eye contact even if he doesn’t look at you.

He twitches in your mouth, his cock spawning against your tongue as you increase the pace. He bites his lip harsh enough to draw blood as he cums again, your head raising so only the tip is in your mouth while one hand jerks his cock, milking him dry. His vision is fuzzy, mind even foggier. He can’t believe you just did that without a word.

You swallow his cum, wiping the drool off of your chin as you hop up and lay next to him, nuzzling into his chest. He puts an arm around you while you two cuddle in silence.

“You’re really good at that, Y/n.” He huffs, smiling as he looks down at you who’s drifting off to sleep. “Are you gonna sleep over?”

“I was hoping I could. And who knows? Maybe we can fuck in the morning before going to work.”

“Fuck, work.” Hyunjin sighs loudly before groaning from the reminder of all of his stress. “This won’t change our relationship ship at the office, will it?”

“Not publicly, no, but if you ever need to releive some stress during the day, just invite me up to your office and I’d be happy to help you, sir.” You both laugh, finally at ease in each other’s arms. As you drift to sleep, you can’t help but be excited for the proceeding weeks at your work.

This is exactly the raise you needed.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fiction #skz fan fiction #skz imagines #skz imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

dive into you

[bennett x reader]

author’s note: lil fic for bestest boy benny inspired by the song by nct dream and the summer season :’)

word count: 3,600

There’s a bakery opposite of Angel’s Share, just across the cobblestone road, and every morning the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from its open double doors, ready to welcome patrons and the crisp air of the early hours. Bennett has easily fallen into the routine of making this his first stop of the day. When he wakes, eyes slow to open and greeted by little squares of light on the ceiling of his bedroom from the sunlight shining through the window, he swears he can already smell that bread and the pastries and the care put into each one. He doesn’t often find it in him to be lazy, to be sluggish this early, for a new day was a new promise of adventure, and whether he’s swept along by the wind to the wilds or to the bakery, it’s an adventure all the same.

He always picks out food for his dads. He considers carefully what they might like to have (some prefer to have the same each time, others don’t mind the variety and like to be surprised), and carefully, slowly he fills the tray. Usually it isn’t busy during the time he’s there, but he doesn’t want to take risks as he holds it securely with both hands whenever he’s perusing the selection. Even if there were no people to bump into, with his luck, he might bump into one of the displays in the middle of the shop instead, consequence of paying more attention to the shelves against the wall where there are loaves baked into fun shapes like fish or crabs, rather than to what’s in front of him. He’d hate to drop everything on his tray and waste it.

Sometimes the bakery keeps the doors closed, and while uncommon, it’s nothing unusual. On these occasions, the entry of each customer is announced by the small bell jingling just overhead. It’s the only sound in the shop, ringing several times in the past ten minutes but it’s mere background noise, easily ignored, as Bennett absorbs himself in choosing what to buy today.

“Good morning!”

Bennett’s hand freezes just above a loaf of bread that looks like a bear and he glances behind him to the counter because the sound of your bubbly voice, conversely, is much more difficult to ignore. Though to be fair, to him, you’re no mere background noise.

You’re carrying a basket of more loaves just taken from the oven, half of them regularly shaped into circles and the other half like turtles, and grin at the customers who have just walked in. He watches you make your way over to a shelf several feet away from him to arrange the bread, and he stares long enough that you’ve taken notice. Your smile is bright and reaches your eyes, and he’s embarrassed to have been caught. His cheeks grow warm and you can probably see the dusting of red across his face, a speculation which doesn’t help alleviate this embarrassment one bit.

“Good morning, Bennett,” you greet him, more quietly since he’s closer.

He likes when you say his name, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat and he stutters out an O-Oh, um… as if surprised that you’re talking to him, much less that you know who he is. It shouldn’t take him off guard that you know, considering how often he comes to the bakery, so he supposes it has more to do with the fact that he can’t believe his name should be spoken by a voice as gentle as yours, honeyed tones like the softly plucked notes of the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Finally he musters an equally quiet Good morning in response, smiling back but he’s certain it looks more like a cringe, owed to his nerves. If it does, you don’t point it out, and simply return to your task. Only when another patron comes up to Bennett’s other side, muttering a pardon as they grab a loaf from the shelf he’s standing in front of, does he break his gaze from you. His hand that had been hovering above the bread that whole time he drops back down to his side, and he scoots to make room with another stutter and a sorry.

You’re back behind the counter when Bennett is ready to pay. The pile of bread, cake slices, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous pastries had in the past led you to ask him if these were snacks for the road, for you’d guessed him to be an adventurer doing commissions for the guild by the sword at his side. He’d chuckled and explained his actual purpose for buying as much as he did, and your grin had widened, and if he wasn’t imagining things, you’d been extra careful when packing every treat.

I’m sure they’ll really appreciate your gesture, you’d said. That’s sweet of you. And it’s not frequently that events in the course of his life run smoothly, but that day they had, and with no falter in his words he remarks it’s thanks to you, for you’re the reason there’s anything to bring back to his dads in the first place. You’d laughed and his chest tightened and he thinks that’s the point where he started to fall (to where, he hesitated to state exactly). But in any case, it was true—without you, there was no bakery filled to the brim with delicious food, and if he had anything to say about that, Mondstadt would be worse off for it.

This morning, Bennett is digging around his wallet for the appropriate amount of Mora while you pack what he’d picked out. Having gone through this process many times prior, he knows approximately how much it should cost.

“Ah—”

A few coins slip from his hand and clatter to the wooden floor, and he bends to pick them up. But on the way down, his head knocks into the tray that he neglected to push all the way onto the countertop, so part of it still stuck out. You blink in surprise at the jostling of the tray and his subsequent Ouch!, muffled because he’s obscured by the counter.

“Are you okay?” You sound genuinely worried, but to Bennett the accident had been no big deal. At least none of the food had fallen.

“Yeah,” he assures you. He’s still trying to gather up the stray Mora, fingers failing to get a proper grip on them and he huffs in slight exasperation. His face once more is burning from the embarrassment of being so clumsy. He’s clumsy around everyone, and it’s something he has long since come to accept, but it matters a lot more when it’s you.

Finally he stands back up, the money clutched in his fist victoriously. “Yeah!” he repeats now that you can hear him clearly. “It’s no big deal.”

For a second you don’t quite believe him, but it’s hard to argue with that smile on his face. There’s no pain he’s trying to hide (embarrassment, on the other hand, is a different issue entirely).

Upon handing him his package you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow and he feels sort of special because you don’t say it to anyone else. To others, you say Thank you, come again! but you know his routine and you know to expect him at the same time each morning. Judging by the look in your eyes and the sound of your voice when you see and greet him, you anticipate his visit every time, and his heart wants to soar out from the confines of his chest upon this realization and he is exhilarated. The wind and the new day have fulfilled their promise of an adventure, and the clock hasn’t even struck noon.

One day you’re a little distracted, focused on a paper in your hand as Bennett approaches the counter with his tray of baked goods. For the most part, your face gives nothing away, but then your brows furrow slightly, a subtle action he doesn’t miss, and he proceeds to ask if anything is wrong. He asks it kindly, keeps his tone neutral, wordlessly conveying that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He would hate to pry.

You purse your lips, pausing like you’re caught between saying yes and no. He waits patiently for whichever one it might be.

“I ran out of sugar and had been meaning to make more,” you start, opting to share with him what’s been troubling you.“I bought out Flora’s stock of sweet flowers but it wasn’t enough, so I may have to set aside time to pick more myself later.”

The mention of heading outside of the city makes Bennett perk up, for he never turns down a chance to go exploring. He’s about to offer to do it for you, but it’s the thought of possibly going with you instead that makes him hold back and rephrase his question.

“This afternoon?” he inquires, head tilting. You nod, and up until now he’d felt confident in the offer he was going to present, but then his nerves get the better of him and it doesn’t come out quite the way he was hoping. “I-I could go with you! You know, if you want! To protect you… Just in case…” He trails off and he wants to go hide in a hole. There are few other ways this could have gone worse.

You don’t answer right away, and he regrets having said anything at all, but your beautiful smile soon follows the silence and it sets his mind at ease, and you agree with a concise and cheery Sure! Well, at least the worst way this could have gone had not come to pass. It was the small victories for Bennett—just as important as the big ones. The next challenge would be to avoid making a fool of himself out there, in what should be his natural element; he does want to impress you. But that’s a big ask for someone like him…

Both of you agree to meet at the front gate in the late afternoon. By then, the traffic in the bakery is slow enough that you’re able to step away earlier than the normal closing time. You’ve changed into clothes more appropriate for walking around: in lieu of a dress, your typical work attire, you sport a tunic and trousers you don’t mind dirtying. The trousers are tailored to fit properly but the tunic is a tad big, the sleeves a bit too long, but Bennett thinks you look cute in it. A basket hangs on your forearm and you wave as you walk up to him.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” you say.

Bennett shakes his head. “Not long at all.” Technically the agreed upon meeting time was only five minutes ago, so you aren’t very late. Though he does refrain from sharing that he’d arrived early, in fear that he could end up late somehow and you would be the one who had to wait. Really, it’s been more like fifteen minutes for him, but he just keeps quiet about that.

One of the nice things about summer is that the sun sets later. There’s still a sufficient amount of light to illuminate the fields as you walk around in search of sweet flowers. At first, the extent of your conversation is discussing where you might be able to find a high concentration of them, then silence filled with the sifting of grass beneath your shoes and the occasional exclamation of having spotted a flower to be picked and tucked away in your basket.

Honestly, walking with you around the wilds of Mondstadt hadn’t been anywhere on Bennett’s list to do today, or any day really, not until he could muster the courage to invite you out like this, and who knew when that might be. Your need for sweet flowers had dropped the opportunity right into his lap, and thankfully he hadn’t squandered it. But now he’s at a loss as to what to talk about; he didn’t think he’d ever get this far.

Maybe you sense his struggle to come up with a topic of conversation because you’re the one to speak up, asking about his adventures and the commissions he takes. Done anything exciting recently?

Bennett’s eyes light up, a reaction which you can't help but smile at, and he regales you of the goings-on of his latest missions. He omits the instances where his clumsiness had made things more difficult (of which there were many), but each story is still truthful. Most of his commissions the past month hadn’t been anything too bold—after a mission that involved nearly getting himself trapped in a ruin due to solving a puzzle wrong then getting food poisoning on top of that from the snack he’d prepped that day, he’s been choosing jobs that he knows he’s more capable of.

To him, they aren’t too exciting, and in the larger scope of things, perhaps they aren’t, but you don’t seem to think that as you hang on each word. You’re absorbed in his story about trying to dismantle towers in a hilichurl camp, and gasp at the mention of their reinforcements coming to attack in the midst of it. Wow, you remark after he finishes his recounting of the event. You’re amazing, Bennett!

His heart does a flip again at the sound of his name and he shrugs offhandedly. He’s not inclined to think so, but your awed comment is sincere and has him reconsidering: yeah, that was pretty cool of him, wasn’t it? For all his clumsiness, he doesn’t often see the feats for what they are, accompanied by blunders or not, but you’re the fresh perspective he’d been missing, and he wishes you’d stepped into his life sooner.

The entirety of your outing together has thus far been free of any monsters, but as soon as Bennett makes this observation it’s like the universe has heard: hydro slimes suddenly pop out from the ground, halting you in your tracks. You squeak in surprise and Bennett is quick to shift into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and one arm out in front of you protectively.

“Just stay there!” he instructs before drawing his sword and rushing forward.

Luckily there aren’t many slimes to fight off, and they aren’t very big. His sword cuts through them easily, cleanly. They burst and spray water upon being sliced apart, so at the end, when they’re all dead, the only evidence they had been there to begin with is the slight dampness to his clothes and the squish of dirt turned to mud. With a sigh of triumph, Bennett resumes a relaxed stance, then sheathes his weapon and turns to you.

As instructed, you’ve stayed in place, but it seems to have been more out of being frozen in fear than anything else. You’re clutching your basket close, and once the slimes are gone, you follow Bennett’s lead and relax, shoulders releasing the tension they had been filled with for the duration of that fight. You let out a deep exhale of relief, hand placed over your heart which has yet to slow back down to its normal pace.

“Thank you.”

Bennett flashes a toothy grin and waves his hand as if to say It’s not a problem. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”

You smile back. “I’m glad we went together.”

Together. He likes the sound of that. He thinks to himself that he’d go with you to other places too; you need only to give the word. To the edge of this world, and through a portal to the next? He’d meet you by the front gate at dawn.

He’s surprised that the encounter with those slimes had gone as smoothly as it had. It isn’t uncommon for him to get hit a few times, bruises quick to form on his arms or his legs. And it’s quite the run of luck, of which he’s ordinarily in short supply, that he should get through a fight with nary a scratch on him while with you. His efforts to impress are actually succeeding.

However, this is another case of speaking too soon, because he starts to walk back to you, but then his foot gets caught on a rock concealed by the tall grass, and he tumbles to the ground.

“Oof!”

His chest collides with the earth as he lands with a thud and the breath is stolen from his lungs. You gasp and close the gap between you, and in viewing you in his peripherals, he notes that you are much more graceful at it.

“Are you all right?”

Bracing his hands on the dirt, small bits of rock digging into his palms, Bennett pushes himself up to sit on his knees. “Yeah, I’m okay!” Here he thought he had handled himself perfectly well, but then just like that, his clumsiness returned, and once more before you he is awkward, blundering Bennett.

Unlike the incident at the bakery when he’d bumped his head into the tray, this fall had actually hurt, and he can’t hide it successfully, a slight wince of pain crossing his face in spite of his smile. Even if you hadn’t caught on to that, the injuries elsewhere on his body give it away completely.

“Your arms are all scraped up…” After Bennett stands back up, you gingerly take hold of his forearm and angle it to examine the scrapes there, thin red lines from tiny stones tearing the skin.

Your grip is light, like you’re scared to injure him further, and Bennett is thankful for the darkness that is setting in as the sun disappears and the moon begins its trek across the sky, for it conceals the way his cheeks redden to be this close to you, to be touched by you. The concern in your gaze as you look at his arm makes his chest squeeze but not in the good way, and he bends his knees slightly to duck into your line of view.

“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” And it’s true. He’s sustained worse, though he steers clear of sharing this part. He doesn’t like to see you worried.

He straightens up when you finally meet his eyes and dons his smile again, easy and reassuring. It seems to convince you, as you nod and let go. He drops his arm back down to his side but he’s already missing the feather-light sensation of your fingertips. Successfully reassured, your smile also returns, replacing the thin line of worry that your lips had previously been set in.

It’s dark now but the air is still warm, a consequence of the season. In the daytime the heat is more extreme, made even more so by the fire curling from the edge of his sword. At the conclusion of whatever commission he has taken, he’s left sweating, satisfied but exhausted. Missions in the summer are more difficult to get through, the sun beating down with little mercy and its heat lingering into the night, but he thinks that if he were to have you there with him, he’d hardly notice.

Your delicate gaze is the cool ocean breeze and your soft smile the deluge of waves washing over him, a force he receives gladly because he is falling into you, deeper into the expanse of your heart. He’s diving into the sea, the unbearable heat of summer long forgotten as he makes his way to the bottom. What he hopes to find he isn’t sure, but he’d be content to remain there forever, consumed by you and all the love you have to offer.

“Okay?” he asks, voice soft. You had nodded but he also wants verbal confirmation that you won’t burden yourself with worry anymore.

You catch on to his own need for reassurance, and he wants to sink into the refreshing fondness of your eyes as you watch him. “Okay.”

The moon up above illuminates your face, and he wants to run his fingers along all the parts it touches: the line of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. He yearns to be closer to you than that moonlight adorning your skin, and maybe it’s strange that he should be envious of it, of that light which has the privilege to hold you so near, but the feelings he has for you are what’s written about in books, and in those stories, people do tend to do strange things.

In the morning, he stops by the bakery as usual but this time is surprised when you set a cake down alongside the other baked goods he buys. You answer his question before he can voice it.

“For yesterday,” you state simply. “For my hero.”

Your—?

“I think ‘hero’ is too strong a word for it,” Bennett replies, chuckling quietly and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, they had just been slimes.

You hum noncommittally, corner of your mouth lifted in a grin. “Maybe, but yesterday you were mine. So please take this as thanks.”

He’d like to be yours every day, and the thought of how nice that would be makes his whole world just a little brighter, like the crystal butterflies fluttering around him in the wild on the warm summer nights; and he hopes that the next adventure the wind guides him on leads straight back to you.

#bennett x reader #bennett imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #bennett #genshin impact #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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syndxlla · 3 years

Text

Part eleven of the More To Love series

Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.

Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol

Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).

i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!

PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.

part ten

Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.

Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.

“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.

“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.

“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.

She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.

Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.

“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.

“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.

“We miss you.”

“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.

“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.

“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not coming…”

“What? Why?”

“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.

You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.

“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”

Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.

She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.

“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.

“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”

“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”

“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.

“But what?”

You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”

You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.

This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”

“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”

“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.

“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”

“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”

You feel defeated.

“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.

“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”

Did you?

You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.

Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.

“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”

You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.

Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.

“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”

“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.

Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.

“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.

“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.

“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.

“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.

“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.

“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.

“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”

“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.

“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.

“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”

“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.

“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.

“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?

“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?

“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.

“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans

“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.

“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.

“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.

You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?

“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.

“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.

Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.

“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.

“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.

“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.

“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.

“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.

“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.

“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.

“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.

“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.

You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.

“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.

“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.

“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.

This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.

A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.

Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.

——————————————

“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.

“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”

“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.

“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.

“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.

“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.

All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.

After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.

An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.

Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?

You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.

“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.

“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.

Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.

“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”

Koska doesn’t answer.

“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.

“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“

“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.

“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.

“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.

“So why are you here, then?”

You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.

But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.

Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.

“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.

“You did.” She groans in response.

“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.

Koska is the one not to answer this time.

It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.

The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.

You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?

Was he?

Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.

“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.

“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.

“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.

“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“

“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.

“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.

“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.

“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.

“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.

Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.

You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.

While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.

Separation Anxiety.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.

His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.

“Princess!” He bows.

“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.

“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”

“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”

He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.

“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.

“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”

“Did you know her?”

“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”

“Are you… second in line?”

“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.

“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.

“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”

“The what?” You cluelessly ask.

“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.

“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”

“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.

He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”

“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.

“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.

“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.

“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.

Hugo forces a kiss on you.

Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.

“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.

“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.

“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”

No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.

When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.

You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.

You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.

Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.

Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.

You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...

—

authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE

Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @softly-sad @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol l @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandomistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child

“if you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

part twelve

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transmazikeen · 3 years

Note

regret for abimel :)

regret

on eating your words

Mel tossed and she turned, but no amount of moving seemed to force her into a comfortable position. All she could see in her head was Abigael’s face, her eyes after she had left her alone with herself. She wasn’t one to be thinking about a girl late at night. It wasn’t like that. She was worried. She knew she couldn’t do anything now. But as the sheets twisted around her legs and the mattress grew almost unbearably warm with friction, Mel couldn’t bring herself to stop.

Eventually, Mel took her phone off the bedside table and typed out a quick text with shaking fingers. She sent it before she could think better of it.

mel: hey. are you awake?

The response came within about thirty seconds.

abi: don’t you have a girlfriend?

Mel immediately did what most comments by Abigael prompted her to do, which was roll her eyes.

mel: it’s not that kind of you up? text.

abi: ah

mel: i wanted to check on you again.

abi: i’m just dandy.

mel: no one ever says “dandy” and means it.

abi: more words of wisdom from a charmed one, i see.

mel: you’re deflecting.

The next texts took slightly longer to come through.

abi: perhaps i am.

abi: do you care?

Mel thought back to Abigael sitting in her living room. Admit it, you care about me. She’d responded with only derision. But now...

mel: of course i do.

mel: i texted you first, didn’t i?

abi: i suppose you did.

abi: here’s the truth. i just woke from another attack from my demon form, and i’m quite shaken up and exhausted.

Mel’s fingers paused over her keyboard.

abi: i feel like much of my time is spent fighting for my life.

mel: i’m sorry.

abi: i’ll probably be dead within the week. not sure sorry really cuts it.

Mel smiled to herself at the callback to early on in their relationship, when they’d escaped the dungeons in Abigael’s own house.

mel: fair. which is why i wanted to apologize again.

abi: for what?

mel: i still feel guilty for calling you irredeemable.

Abigael’s typing bubble disappeared for two solid minutes, and Mel was afraid she’d lost her for the night before her phone started pinging again.

abi: so being a good person means feeling guilt for things you’ve already apologized for. got it, professor.

abi: i’m taking notes. see my pen?

abi: 🖌

abi: what the bloody fuck is that thing?

Mel cracked up.

mel: i think it’s meant to be a paintbrush.

abi: i hate emoticons. i was trying to be witty and i end up looking like a damned fool.

mel: i thought it was funny.

abi: anyways, i accept your apology, so you don’t have to go about moping, judas.

abi: it wears on a pretty face to live with regret.

Mel felt her face warm and ears tingle despite herself.

mel: you calling me pretty?

abi: that was not the most important part of that sentence.

mel: i’m holding this over you forever.

abi: why this and not what i said in the tomb?

Now it was Mel’s turn to pause. She hadn’t expected Abigael to ever bring it up.

mel: i didn’t want to push you to talk about it. you didn’t want to say it in the first place.

abi: perhaps not saying it would have been a regret i’d be unable to live with.

mel: i feel like this is a conversation that we should have in person.

abi: you may be right.

Not ten seconds after the text came through, smoke began to stream through Mel’s cracked-open window, and Mel yelped and pulled the sheet up to her chest. The smoke coalesced into a snickering Abigael.

“So scandalous of you. Aren’t you wearing clothes?”

After a second spent debating with herself, Mel dropped the sheet to reveal her pajama set, printed with smiling kittens. “See something you like?”

“Yes, very much.” Abigael’s tired hazel eyes roved over Mel. She herself was wearing a t-shirt, Mel’s t-shirt that she’d borrowed when she’d stayed that one time, and a pair of red silk pajama pants. “Designer?” Abigael joked.

“Walmart,” said Mel. “I mean, technically someone has to design them.”

“I never really thought of it that way before,” said Abigael. She stood awkwardly in the corner, for a moment, seemingly not knowing what to do, waiting for Mel to say something.

Mel reached out and patted the end of the bed. “You should be able to sit here without the allergy acting up.”

Abigael went to sit there, and for the first time in a while she seemed to relax. Unlike she had seemed in the Tomb- on the surface, poised, but underneath, on high alert- now she seemed genuinely calmer. “Thank you,” she said. Mel sensed she didn’t just mean it about the place to sit.

They didn’t speak for a while. Mel didn’t want to push her, so she just propped herself up on her pillows and waited while Abigael fidgeted. She wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder. She was used to wanting, but not like this, not with her.

“All in all, I’m glad Maggie had the wisdom to use the serum on me,” Abigael said finally. “I had let myself be tormented by my past regrets far too long. And that includes hiding that, yes, I do care about you, much more than I feel is appropriate for the kind of relationship we have.”

“And what even is ‘appropriate’?” asked Mel.

“Associates. Even friends, perhaps.” Abigael met her gaze. “Definitely not someone I’d willingly give my life protecting.” Mel suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “And that’s not just because I apparently hate myself.”

“Abi,” chastised Mel.

“Look at me.” Abigael gestured to her rumpled clothes, the bags under her eyes. “I’m allowed to make jokes.”

“Fair.”

“And make no mistake, I expect nothing from you,” said Abigael. She had the sheets in her hands and was twisting them between her fingers like Mel’s legs had before. “I know part of being good is sometimes giving without getting in return, and this I have no problem with. I know you will never return how I feel about you. But it is a victory for me to even say it aloud. That, at least, is something I will never regret.”

Mel ached to tell her how wrong she was. Instead, what came out was “stay here tonight.”

Abigael looked to her. “Hm?”

“Stay here, and sleep. I’ll protect you,” said Mel.

Abigael opened her mouth to protest, but she seemed to grasp that this was Mel, in her own way, telling her how she felt, and her eyes softened. “I suppose I could try.”

So that was how Mel slept, soundly, with Abigael curled up at the end of the bed, and by the morning, Abigael had not disappeared like she normally did.

—

ao3

ko-fi

#charmed #charmed reboot #mel vera #abigael jameson caine #abimel #abigael x mel #mel x abigael #fanfic #fanfiction #abimel fanfiction #prompt

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years

Text

Relighting A Flame

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: A routine day at work resurfaces unexpected feelings when you encounter the very person responsible for them.

Requested by @snitches-at-dawn : “can i get a ron fluff about bumping into him in diagon alley after years of having broken up”

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving, break ups, angst, fluff

A/N: This will be part one of two! Thank you for the request, Liz!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was a busy day, a long shift ahead of you at Amanuensis Quills. Students, both new and experienced, had swarmed the old cobblestone walkways of Diagon Alley. The bustling commotion filtered in with no intentions of stopping any time soon; it was always the busiest time of year for obvious reasons. You had your work cut out for you with a seemingly endless amount of quills to stock up for the new school year, an equally daunting amount of ink to shelve as well. To make matters worse, you had been left to run the shop by yourself for the day.

Fortunately for you, quills hadn’t been on the top of the list of priorities for most students and their parents, it certainly was never on yours. They’d much prefer to get their brooms in preparation for quidditch and even more excitingly a wand carry with them through their years of magical endeavors. That was always your favorite part.

It was a nice place to work, one with a welcoming familiarity that was very much appreciated. A job outside of the wizarding word didn’t seem quite like a good fit for you, so this was your best option. You were happy though, Flourish and Blotts was right down the walkway for you to stop in on your lunch breaks. They always had something new to appeal to your taste in literature and that was enough to give you something to look forward to each day. It was a cozy place to be in with its winding pathways and perfectly imperfect buildings, and the lanterns dotting along every one had only added to its warmth.

For the most part, you were as happy as you could be given the circumstances of your personal life. You had been accepted into the best training program to become a healer at St. Mungo’s, something you’d always wanted and now it was finally coming together. The training was rather rigorous as one would expect, but you’d always had Madame Pomfrey to help you along when you attended Hogwarts. It felt as though you had a stable footing in your education and you were right where you wanted to be.

You had your own apartment not far away, furnished exactly how you could dream of and maybe even better than you imagined. It was quaint and it was warm and it was yours. No pesky neighbors and you were free to use however much magic you’d like given everyone around there had been witches and wizards. You couldn’t ask for anything better than what you have, though maybe you could think of a few things.

It was a fairly good life to live after the wizarding war, one that was more fortunate than you could have thought to have. Though the burdens of such a historic event still weighed heavy on your heart if thought on for too long.

The small brass bell on the countertop had rung out behind you once to signal a new customer, effectively pulling you from your thoughts and grabbing your attention. It was a perfect and much needed break from the task you’d been working on for the better part of two hours, and it was one you accepted without an ounce of hesitation. You set down the cardboard box in your hands, turning to greet the person who had been responsible for ringing it. Though in that moment, it seemed as though the words had been taken from you completely and pushed out of your mind. Familiar blue eyes had met your own, eyes that had always been obstructed by strands of near unruly red hair. They belonged to someone you hadn’t seen in the better part of six years.

Your mouth hung slightly agape, your heart stilling in your chest and your surroundings fading around you.

“Hey,” Ron managed, fighting a smile because he wasn’t entirely sure if it had been appropriate in that very moment.

You swallow thickly as you try to collect yourself in your flustered state, though the heat blossoming in your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Seconds of silence had ticked by unforgivingly, each one more agonizing than the last and you quickly began to realize you needed to say something soon or it’d just get worse.

“Hey.”

That was all you could manage, just one single word. But to be fair, how does one broach talking to someone they so desperately longed to see, someone that held so much meaning yet felt so far away?

He scratched the back of his neck as the quiet tension became increasingly more apparent, averting his gaze from you momentarily before the tips of his ears burned any hotter. It was as if he’d just met you, as if the years of endeavors at Hogwarts and countless late night kisses hadn’t ever existed. He felt ridiculous for being so timid around you, for you were not a stranger and you never will be.

“How...is there something I can help you with?”

Your question seemed to have baffled him, and he found himself scrambling to think of just what shop he had even been in currently. The mere sound of your voice had him forgetting all else and he hadn’t realized just how much he longed to hear it. Truthfully he’d been there for you; he’d plucked up the courage to do so after hearing this was where you’d been. George had told him after he had bumped into you on your way to work one morning. Of course he would tell his brother, he’d missed you too after all. But not as much as Ron had, and he would never tell you that.

Your patient but expectant look had pulled him from his daze, his cheeks flushing a pale scarlet as he stood a little straighter and smoothed his loosened tie. His grip on the strap of his bag had tightened as he cleared his throat.

“Y–Yeah…could I get a package of quills?”

The words tumbled out so pathetically as he stammered them, humiliation seeping into every fiber of his being. He knew this was a bad idea, to come and see you. He debated it for months and though maybe it’d be okay. But it was clear you didn’t want to see him; at least that’s what he’d been thinking.

You nod with a soft smile and disappear around a corner momentarily, leaving him to stand in his own regret and offering you an opportunity to release the jittery sigh you’d been holding. Every word you said had been one you over analyzed, and you felt maybe you had been too dismissive, too short with him. Maybe you had come off as though he was the very last person you wanted to see, when in reality he was the first. He’d been the first for years now and you felt you had yourself to blame for that.

Stuffing your feelings down, you reach up on your toes and snag a fresh box from its slightly dusty shelf, taking a breath before willing yourself to go back. He’s standing right where you left him, his gaze so focused on you that he looked away in an instant to pretend it’d just been coincidence. He was always so blatantly obvious. However, it was something you came to be grateful for when your arm snags the corner of the counter, sending the delicate quills flying from their box and fluttering to the ground. The tiny metallic clangs against the floor in the quiet shop were a deafening reminder of your clumsy blunder, and your cheeks burned fiercely when he had looked at you once more.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” You rush with a soft laugh, internally scolding yourself for acting so foolishly in front of him. You’d known him since you were twelve after all, so it shouldn’t have been so difficult.

Your hands shook as you gathered the soft feathers and you tried not to focus on the way you felt him staring. If you had, you just might make another mistake. He was too busy reveling at the sound of his name falling from your lips for the first time in what felt like forever, something he’d thought about more times than he could count. He was too busy dealing with the emotions cascading over him to care about your inherent clumsiness, for you’d always been that way.

You stood to your feet once everything was as it should be, your hair falling ungracefully in your face at the sudden action, and set the box down in front of him. He’d resorted to looking over every inch of the place in that moment in hopes it’d make you forget he’d been gawking.

“I’m sorry,” you say once more, much more meek than you had anticipated it to be.

“It’s okay, lo—” he cut himself short, nearly falling into old habits. He couldn’t call you that anymore. “It’s okay.”

You nod with a soft laugh, looking in his eyes for the first time since he had come in, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“What ever could you be doing with thirty quills?” You ask curiously, anything to stave off the tension, though you also wanted to know. Your smile had been returned at your teasing question.

“I’m a professor,” he says, breathing out a nervous laugh of his own. “I’ve uh…I’ve taken over for Lupin. It’s my first year teaching on my own.”

Your eyes widen a fraction at his explanation and you smile a bit brighter at him from your spot across the counter.

“That’s wonderful, Ron!” You exclaim, your hand reaching out to grab his arm in excited habit. Realization was quick to hit you, and it felt as though sparks of electricity had mingled between you, the contact leaving flushed skin in its wake. You quickly recoil your hand, the heat traveling from your cheeks down to your neck. “You’ve…you’ve always wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ever since Umbridge had taken over for a bit.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head in agreement. “That was quite awful.”

The familiar silence was soon to settle over you again, his eyes meeting yours. You’d love to know just what he was thinking, though you were uncertain if your heart could take it if you knew. What you did know was that it was a near impossible feat to look away from him, however, no matter how much you told yourself to. But a rather annoyed throat clearing had sounded and you peered just over his shoulder at the source. A growing line had formed behind him and he reluctantly spared a glance too, dread pooling in his stomach.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you say, offering a small smile.

“I guess it is,” he laughs softly, digging around in his pocket for money. He paid in exchange for his quills, trying not to think about the way your fingertips brushed against his. Or the way he wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“It was nice seeing you again, Ron.”

He looks up at you, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he nodded. “You too, Y/n.”

He brought himself to look away after several moments no matter how much he didn’t want to, but the series of huffs over his shoulder were hard to ignore. He turned around and walked past the very apparent line of customers giving him a sideways glance for holding them up. You watched after him for a moment until he left, disappearing around the corner and out of view as your smile fades. You found yourself rather disappointed at the brief interaction, you wanted more time and your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought. But your attention is quickly stolen by the next customer in line.

—

The rest of the day had gone by quite differently, and the weather had clouded up seemingly to reflect your mood. Every day had been routine; you wake up, you come to work, you go home, and you do it again the next day. Any bit of heartache is easily shoved down and forgotten should there be any that boil over. It’s not everyday that the very love of your life, your best friend, comes in and singlehandedly resurfaces every one of those feelings you fought to keep at bay. The good and the bad.

The brief interaction set back six years of progress you’d made with yourself, six years of trying to live a life without him in it. That small window of time had taken that progress and diminished it to nothing. You missed him, so much so you found yourself looking out of the display windows at the front of the store all day in hopes he’d come back. You missed him and you didn’t want to, you wanted to revert back to the time you didn’t feel as though seeing him completed your day. Now you had seen him, you had talked to him, you had looked in his eyes. You’d been happy to see him and sad all the same. Now the cycle would begin again.

It had been Ron’s decision to take a break from your relationship, just under a year after the war. He had been too overcome with grief over the loss of his brother that he’d withdrawn himself from you, from everyone really. It wasn’t unlike him, and you couldn’t blame him for it either. He loved his family very dearly, and he fought fiercely to protect them. You can’t say you hadn’t expected him to respond this way, you were quite sure you would too and you had been to an extent. But not like Ron. For that, he didn’t feel as though it was fair for you, he didn’t want you to feel responsible for mending his broken pieces. He didn’t want you to feel as though you’d been ignored. You deserved better in his eyes, someone who didn’t feel like a mere shell of the person they once were. Someone who didn’t sulk around and confine himself to his room.

So he broke up with you, regretfully at that. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t forgive himself if he allowed you to feel unloved or unwanted. Because that—that would never be true.

You’d like to think that you handled it very well when he told you, it was a reason that was more than justified. There was no animosity, there were no hard feelings or resentment, not even a little. But that didn’t stop the hurt that settled deep within you. It was a feeling you felt somewhat selfish for but it remained nonetheless. It stayed and it only got worse with each day that passed, with each unanswered letter, with each visit to the Burrow to check up on him only for him to avoid your gaze and tell you softly that he was fine. It was nothing personal, yet it very much felt like it.

In time, you’d wrote to him less and less. Your visits to the beloved family home became few and far between until they had stopped altogether. It wasn’t because you didn’t care, you don’t believe you could ever stop caring for him and his family. But that very feeling was what had been hurting you the most. And any wall you had built has since crumbled unceremoniously to the ground with the days events.

With a sigh, you stacked the last of the shipment of quills and fresh ink onto their respective shelves, brushing the dust on your hands off on your jeans. The chaos of the day had finally ceased now that the sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed’, a quiet settling over the shop. You loved the week before the new school year and hated it all the same; it was endearing to see excited new students frequent Diagon Alley for the first time like you had done years ago. But the frenzy of flustered customers that almost seemed never ending was very much something you could do without.

You gave the room a once over, each package neatly organized, the floor swept and the empty shelves dusted. Perhaps you went above and beyond to distract yourself and keep from going home to simmer in your thoughts, but the darkening clouds had urged you to reconsider. You didn’t have anything particularly exciting to do that evening save for reading the book you’d bought earlier that morning. Though you didn’t think you could concentrate on the story at this point. You were tired and you were replaying it over in your mind.

Reluctantly, you switched off each lamp that dotted around the small shop, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you step outside with a soft sigh. The smell of the rain had immediately hit you, and it was a breath of fresh air compared to the smell of cardboard and ink. Pulling down the shutter over the window on the door you close it and lock it behind you, stuffing the tarnished set of keys in your pocket.

It was significantly less busy at this hour but you made it all of three steps before spotting the ever familiar head of red hair, your heart skipping a beat once more. Your brows furrow as you look up at him, nearly bumping right into him as your head tilts to the side in curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, hoping it hadn’t sounded too expressive of how you’d been feeling.

Ron’s cheeks flush again as he laughs, fidgeting before you as his box of quills sat tucked under his arm. “I was…I was just visiting George,” he says, pointing in the general direction of his brothers shop just down the way from you. “That’s all.”

He could have kicked himself for stumbling over his own words, you had to have thought he sounded ridiculous. He really had gone to see George as he had very frequently, but that had been no less than two hours ago. You nod your head.

“Oh,” you say quietly, offering a small smile in response. “I see.”

He hums, and you look at the rain drops splashing against the cobblestone one after another. You wanted to apparate away, to shut out the world and be in the comfort of your own home so you could unpack the day. And yet you wanted to stay, no matter how much your heart ached upon seeing him you still enjoyed his presence and felt miserable when it was gone.

“I should be going home now,” you say, risking a final glance. He appeared as though he was about to say something before you had beat him to it, and you turned away from him to head to your apartment.

“Y/n wait,” he calls after you, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You look over your shoulder, turning around fully once you see the look on his face. Your brow raises as you await his words, watching as he struggles to find them for a few passing moments. “Would you…would you want to have tea on Thursday?”

Your breath hitches as you stand there, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The rhythmic beat rang loudly in your ears, so much so that it had to have been heard over the rain. You were quite sure the rise and fall of your chest had been painfully obvious, not to mention the heat in your cheeks that was rapidly trickling down your neck. The numerous thoughts swirled around in your mind in a whirlpool in that moment; it should have been an easy decision, an immediate yes. But the wall you built wasn’t completely destroyed, and the reluctance to get your hopes up for something good was clouding your judgement.

You knew you looked like a fish out of water as you stood before him and each wordless second that passed you by hadn’t been helping your cause. Ron was beginning to worry he overstepped, but he hadn’t said anything either.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” you manage, exhaling a shaky breath before timidly meeting his gaze.

The look on his face is enough to make your heart burst in your chest but you bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes bouncing between his. He swallows thickly at the soft statement, nodding his head as he looks away from you. You mimic his actions and the grip on your bag tightens as you will away the tears that fought to spill.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding as if to convince himself that he believed you. “Yeah you’re probably right.”

His laugh is soft and humorless, more so to cover up the fact that his heart had dropped down to his stomach. Or the fact that he was embarrassed. He didn’t want to accept this kind of fate, he didn’t want to accept that you felt it best to be apart, even if you didn’t really. He hadn’t expected you to run into his arms, but he didn’t want you to leave.

You nod and clear your throat, the rumble of thunder providing you with an excuse to go your separate ways. With all the hesitation in the world, you lift your hand and give a half wave, unable to trust your own voice with a proper goodbye. You look at him once more, his gaze so full of what could only be longing that you couldn’t bear it.

Spinning on your heel, you try and make your leave again despite your heart cracking and the soft sigh behind you. He couldn’t see you like that. It felt wrong to leave, for the life of you, you couldn’t give yourself even a half decent reasoning for it other than to protect yourself from any more hurt. Spending the last six years without him paled in comparison to this.

“I miss you.”

You still completely at the shaky declaration, and it felt as though the breath had been stolen from your lungs. The words were gentle and you almost convinced yourself you hadn’t heard him correctly. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you peer over your shoulder. He stood there with hope, a feeling that could get him in a great deal of trouble but he can’t bring himself to care about the repercussions right now.

“What?”

His tongue swipes over his lips as he takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep talking. “You’re my best friend, and I miss you. Okay?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive and forward, but he felt he needed to say it before he didn’t have the chance to. He didn’t expect you to take him back, he didn’t even expect you to give him the time of day. But if there was one thing he could say, that would be it and he took full advantage. It was something he wanted to tell you for far too long. He watched the myriad of emotions wash over you as you face him wholly, and he braces himself for your response.

Your reasoning for leaving seemed to falter and break apart the more time that went by, the more he looked at you like that. The look that was reserved for you, though you were always unaware of that fact and Ron was far too bashful to admit it. Anyone and everyone knew that look had always just been for you. He wasn’t known for being discreet with his feelings.

One tea couldn’t hurt, it wouldn’t break you, right? Surely it would have been better than spending your day at home. His words made your heart flutter, and he spoke them with the utmost of sincerity. It would only be self sabotage to reject this offer.

“Thursday you said?”

He felt so overcome with relief that he’d laughed softly, clearing his throat to try and rid himself of the lump forming there. He almost felt as if he’d conjured up the thought, but the soft smile you were biting back was confirmation enough.

“Yeah,” he nods, his rain dampened hair flopping over his eyes. “Thursday.”

“Okay,” you say, looking up at him. Your heart was still beating wildly, the rain pelting over you softly. “And Ron?”

His brows raise as he holds your gaze. You were reluctant to say it and make yourself vulnerable again. You gulp and think better of it.

“I’ll—I’ll see you then.”

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

#ron weasley #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ron weasley fic #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley series

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shanzodragoness · 3 years

Text

On the back of my previous post, I couldn't resist to help fill a gap in fics. Here I am.

Title: An Old Flame

Tags: a bit sad, fluff, but don't worry it gets better

Notes: you work for Stark, after taking the wrong turn you find yourself in the hands of the TVA and promptly pruned. Not saying much else as it'll spoil the fun

My sincerest apologies if this is substandard, this is my first reader fic and the first written in second person. This took me a while bc the feels were intense. Enjoy

Y/F/F - your favourite flower

Words: 1622

----

Your nexus event was confusing. The TVA claimed that you were fated to turn the other way when the Avengers returned to Stark Tower with their newest intergalactic villain. But for some reason you noticed the stare of those blue eyes from across the hall. You noted the muzzle; probably for a good reason. Curiosity carried your feet across the tiled floor and you heard footsteps behind you.

Fast forward an undisclosed amount of time and you were in a court, one that seemed very biased without a juror in sight. You had cocked your head when the judge sentenced you to be reset, what could that possibly mean, could you amend your mistake and simply go back to retrace your steps but as they were meant to be?

It seemed that you weren't getting away with your so-called crime so easily as one of the minutemen approached you with a stick. It wasn't until it was twisted and whirred to life that you realised the gravity of the situation. Did it hurt? The sensation was akin to a quick shock as you saw your body begin to disappear from your stomach outward, the yellow energy dissolving your being.

Your head hurt, your body ached, the light stung your eyes as you attempted to flutter your eyes open. Your eyes fixated on a shadow that eventually gave way to a brightly clothed old man, looking like a costume for a child's birthday party. The two golden horns on his headdress bowed forward and curled back, a feature shared by three of the four beings before you. The old man extended a hand to you as your ears began to tune into the world.

"Y/N?" He asked. Your streetwise nature told you to run, that you didn’t know this man regardless if he knew your name or not. Instinct however, that told you that you could trust this man, that in the grand scheme of things that you knew him, that he'd protect you.

You took his glove clad hand in yours, him pulling you to your feet. "We need to keep moving," he said, his gaze betraying a sadness as he locked his sight with yours.

The four began walking off, counting the pet alligator, and you followed them. In this strange world you doubted that you'd make it on your own anyway, "are you running from someone?" You asked the group. The older one turned his head to regard your query.

"Alioth hungers for the pruned variants that are dumped here by the TVA," he replied. There it was again, this time you could see regret spark his eyes. You'd have to ask later.

After a trek through the wasteland filled with junk from many different ages, you were presented with an open hatch in the ground, "after you," the kid said. You nodded and climbed down the ladder, taking in the large bunker you had entered. A few chairs dotted to one side facing a makeshift throne, many trinkets adorned the living area, souvenirs from the surface. As soon as the click of the hatch reached your ears your heart sank, that rational part of your brain considered that you could've been trapped here. Again, part of you calmed upon seeing the older man.

The kid sat on the throne and seemed to be the leader of this strange place. The dark skinned man sat down first, the others following his lead, and so you sat on a free chair next to the old man. You felt safe. You focused on the chatter of the men

"So, after I vanquished Captain America and Iron Man, I claimed my prize, all six Infinity Stones," the dark skinned man said. The alligator growled from it's paddling pool.

"That's alligator for growling and saying "liar" at the same time," the old man translated.

"At least my nexus event wasn't eating the wrong neighbor's cat." And as soon as he'd offended the animal, the old man pried the alligator off the dark skinned man. They laughed and you cleared your throat.

"What are your names?" You asked, omitting introducing yourself as it had been established that they somehow knew your name. You saw the pain rise to the surface again in the old man's eyes, but it was quickly suppressed.

"I'm Loki, so are the others. We're variants of the same being, from different timelines," he explained. You nodded and took in the information. They drank wine and you even sipped a bit of the hearty red wine offered to you. Soon Alligator Loki closed his eyes and curled up in the pool, Boastful and Kid leaving to different sections of the bunker. The style of the old man's clothes looked very retro, and so the nickname in your mind materialised as Classic Loki. He was watching the last of his wine swirl in the goblet.

"What was your nexus event?" You asked. He looked up from his wine slowly and locked his eyes with yours.

"In my timeline, everything proceeded correctly, my entire life, until Thanos attacked our ship.

"I cast a projection of myself so real, even the Mad Titan believed it. Then hid as inanimate debris. After I faked my death, I simply drifted in space. Away from Thor, away from everything. Thought about the universe and my place in it, and it occurred to me that everywhere I went, only pain followed. So I removed myself from the equation, landed on a remote planet and stayed there in isolation, in solitude for a long, long time.

"To tell you the truth, I missed my brother, and I wondered if he missed me, if anybody else did. But as soon as I took my first steps to getting off the planet, the TVA arrived."

"I'm sorry," you said, it seemed the most appropriate response.

"Don't be," he replied, his watchful gaze lingering on yours.

"Ever since I woke up, I felt scared, but something deep inside told me I was safe. Have we met before? I have a strange feeling that I know you from somewhere," the words came tumbling from your lips faster than you could stop the bumbling speech. You saw a smile grow on his face, and for the first time you saw that sadness turn into a glint of hope.

"Y/N my dear, in my timeline I met you on Midgard, the realm you call Earth. My brother convinced me to wear some Midgardian clothes to fit in for a little sightseeing under his guard, the incident in New York made freedom that tiny bit beyond my reach. You were a beautiful maiden I met in the coffee shop Thor took us to. I found out you worked for Stark, and I spent the next few months courting you, as awkward as that was in a cell. Each time you checked on the prisoner I conjured you a gift, sometimes lavish jewellery that you joked that you'd not be able to hide from the others." He laughed as he recalled the memory. "When I was finally granted free roam of certain floors in the Tower I'd always make sure to conjure a vase of flowers on your desk every morning and find ways to see you. A year later we not so subtly decided to take the next step together. The exquisite diamond ring I placed on your finger whilst kneeling for my queen."

You smiled at him, he spoke of you with a great fondness that it brought a tear to your eye. The man's joy was dampened once again.

"We never had the chance to become husband and wife, I brought you to Asgard, well, SHIELD sent you as a liaison officer. Ragnarok came. The ship. It was supposed to take you with the other refugees, Thanos had you killed first to demonstrate his threat to kill anyone who stood in his way to get the Tesseract. You know the rest of the story."

When you watched his reaction, he looked broken again, and you hated to see him so fragile after everything he'd told you. You stood up and looked down at the gap on the cushioned seat. He knew what you were asking, and so he shuffled to the side to allow you enough space to sit next to him. "Could you do me a favour?"

He looked down at you and a soft smile played on his lips. "Of course."

"Can you show me what the ring looked like?" You asked. His smile grew as his green seidr fluttered over your left hand and a flick of his fingers caused the seidr to swirl over your ring finger. When the magic subsided you saw the most intricately cut diamond you'd ever seen, the gold was woven at its base like flowers holding the stone in place. You didn't see the look of adoration that he gave you whilst you inspected the ring. When you turned you grinned at him. "I never thought that anyone would propose to me."

He moved his arm to hover over your shoulders, "may I?" He asked. You nodded and the adoration was back, he was unsure of himself even when you accepted him. His hold was firm yet gentle, showing how much he didn't want to let you go this time.

"Loki, I'd like to stay here with you. Maybe we can rebuild the life you remember we had."

"I will, dear Y/N. But before that," his green magic swirled between his barely clenched hand and formed a bunch of beautiful Y/F/F. "I must bestow my gifts upon you once more, every one, in the order that I gave them to you."

---

Tag list:

@sonhadoraativa @octopus5555 @stayfabulous @hubert-the-pterabug @russianbutchcrushing

#classic loki #reader #helping filling the gap #loved writing this #fluff #classic loki x reader

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datleggy · 3 years

Note

I need both of your “surprise Buck was/is pregnant with Eddie’s baby and they find out because Chris finds him” anons to finish their drabbles. I need the Buddie confrontation scene with all the angst and betrayal from both sides. (Meanwhile Chris happily keeps his baby brother occupied and whispers about how he’s gonna parent trap their dads.) Please and thank you.

he anon sent more and here it is! it's wonderful, pls read!! <3

ANON: As the anon who your last ask was talking about might I just say I am sobbiiiinnnnnggggggg 😭😭😭 that was so good omg but ALSO now I have an addition to my earlier blurb 👀👀👀

Eddie is frantic, from the moment Buck called to now. Let's rewind a bit though, for context.

After running into Buck in Austin, they did meet up, without Chris, to talk. Buck had Eddie meet him at his new fire house, which. Hurt? It hurt, in a weird way that Eddie couldn't quite place at first, but he realizes now what he was feeling; jealousy that Buck has moved on and seems so comfortable here, longing for Buck to return to them, to the 118 (if he's being honest though, it's him he wants Buck to return to more than anything, but that's hardly fair after everything), regret that he treated Buck so poorly that the other man not only felt he couldn't tell him about the baby, but that he felt he had to move states.

Eddie met him there regardless, though, because ultimately it was Buck's choice. Eddie was grateful Buck chose to talk to him at all, so he wasn't going to argue over the chosen venue.

They met up, and they talked, and Buck confirmed that the baby he was carrying was Eddie's. He was in shock at the confession, upset for the first few moments, even. And it showed on his face, because the next thing Eddie knew, Buck was backing away from him, arms crossed over his stomach and tears running down his face, begging Eddie not to try and take his baby from him.

"I know I shouldn't have ke-kept this from y-you, but Eddie pl-please! He's all I h-ha-have left, I won't make it if you t-take h-him!" Eddie was shocked, and horrified at Buck's words. It took him a few minutes to calm him down, and weeks of slowly increased communication between the two of them (and Christopher, of course) before Eddie was able to convince Buck that he wasn't planning on trying to gain custody of the baby. He had explained that, yes, he wanted to be in their son's life, wanted Chris to be in his brother's life, but he wouldn't do anything to hurt Buck anymore then he already has.

It took almost the remainder of the pregnancy, but they were finally close to where they had been before everything went to shit. Not that they were lovers again, Eddie doesn't think either of them are ready for that, and Buck agrees, but they were on the fast track to becoming best friends again.

So of course he's the first person Buck calls when he goes into labor.

"I'm sorry, you're what?"

"In labor," Buck says sheepishly over the phone. "Or at least, I think I am? I mean, I'm three days overdue so I doubt these are practice contractions, but I guess there's always the possibility, and oh my god if I called you at 3 in the morning because of practice contractions, Eddie, I am so sorry oh god--" he can hear Buck working himself into a panic attack, so he cuts in.

"Hey hey, none of that. Even if these are Braxton Hicks or whatever they're called, I'm glad you called me. We agreed we would be in this together, right?" There's a pause on the other line before Buck speaks.

"Yeah. Together."

Eddie smiles at the soft tone of Buck's voice, and he can picture him perfectly in his mind's eye as though he were there in front of Eddie. Sitting at the end of his bed, both hands framing his belly (which has gotten big since the first time they ran into each other three months ago, the doctors estimating that the baby is somewhere between 8 and 9 pounds, which Buck was Not Pleased to hear, and blames Eddie for, especially when he found out that Chris was nearly 8 pounds when he had been born), and tears in his eyes despite the smile on his face at the prospect of meeting their baby soon.

Eddie takes a deep breath to steady his own racing heart and asks "So, what do you want to do?"

"Huh?"

Eddie can't help the breathless laugh that leaves him, every passing moment feeling more and more surreal as he realizes that /this is happening/. He's going to be a father for a second time, he and Buck are having a baby together and they're going to meet him soon.

"Do you want me with you, Buck? Because I can leave now, fly down there and be with you when he's born. Or we can stay on the phone, or you can FaceTime me. Whatever you wanna do, babe." The endearment leaves his mouth before he can stop it, but he doesn't try to back track.

"I--" Buck cuts himself off with a cry, more surprised then in pain, but Eddie still hates the sound. He starts to wonder, if Buck wants him there, will Eddie even be able to face seeing him in that amount of pain? He'll do it, of course he will, he would do anything for Buck and their boys, but god it might just break him. This isn't about Eddie, though.

"Breathe, baby. Deep breaths, just like in those classes TK took you to." Everytime he and Buck talk, the other man has stories either related to the baby, or related to his new family. Sometimes even both, like when he told Eddie about the Lamaze classes Buck's friend TK took him to, highly recommended from when TK went himself with his boyfriend Carlos leading up to their son being born. Eddie couldn't help but feel that ugly, burning jealousy, but he tried to sound as happy as possible over the phone. Buck wouldn't appreciate the jealousy, since Eddie lost out on what they could have been thanks to his own anger and mistreatment of Buck.

A few moments pass before Buck comes back on. "That hurt," he says with a small, pained laugh. Eddie can't tell if he wants to cry, punch something, or both, but he tamps those feelings down.

"I know, I know. But you've got this, Buck. You're gonna kick labor's ass, right?"

"Right," Buck responds weakly.

"Damn right, right. You're so strong, Buck. There isn't anything you can't do, and nothing you won't do for your kids. You've got this." He hears Buck take a deep breath, steeling himself.

"Yeah... yeah! I've got this. I've got this!" That golden retriever enthusiasm is back in full force, and Eddie grins.

Buck announces that he's going to start packing some stuff and getting his things together, so Eddie will be in speaker phone. For the next few minutes, Eddie listens to Buck ramble off random facts about babies and labor between verbalizing his hospital bag checklist. He hums in the appropriate places to show he's listening, asks clarifying questions so Buck knows Eddie isn't bored or just humoring him. Before too long, Eddie can tell that Buck has picked the phone back up, removing it from speaker phone.

"Hey, Eds?" His voice is quieter, more subdued then it has been for most of their time in the phone.

"Yeah, Buck?" His own voice is soft, curious but undemanding.

"I-- you said, earlier, that you would-would come down, if that's what I wanted? Like, to be here when the baby is born." Eddie feels his heart start to race in his chest, not sure if he's eager to hear Buck's decision or dreading it.

"I did," he confirms anyway, wanting Buck's comfort more than anything else.

"... Is that offer still on the table? You coming down here, I mean." Eddie can feel his breath catch in his chest, and he realizes that, yeah, he was eager to know what Buck wanted him to do. He feels like jumping into the air and cheering, knowing Buck wants him by his side as he delivers their baby boy into the world.

"I can leave in ten minutes, and be with you in four, five hours at the most." His response is almost immediate, and Buck laughs on the other end of the line. "Is that what you want, Buck? Me to be there, with you?" Eddie hears a sniffle and he knows Buck is in the verge of crying.

"I-- is that alright? I don't-- I can't do this alone, Eddie. I know I have everyone from the 126 here, and all of them would sit with me through this in a heartbeat, but... I need it to be you that's here with me. I want you to be here when our son is born, want you to cut the cord, be one of the first to hold him, all of it. I... I need /you/." And how could Eddie ever say no to that?

"Give me a few minutes to pack a bag and make some calls, okay? I'll call you right back, and before you know it, I'll be right beside you, holding your hand and letting you break as many fingers as you want." Buck gives a wet chuckle and agrees, but both men have a hard time saying goodbye, even if it will only be for a few minutes.

"I'll see you soon, Buck, okay? I swear."

"Yeah, I know you will, I know. I'm just nervous, is all. Having you here, even just over the phone, it helps. So much, Eddie." He knows what he means. Hearing Buck's cheerful voice after a long day never fails to make Eddie feel better, make him feel that no matter what, everything will be alright. He can only imagine how much better things will feel for the both of them once they can actually see each other, touch each other.

"I know exactly what you mean. I'll be there soon, okay? I'll call you back in a second and you can tell me more statistics about babies born in cars, or whatever." Buck snorts a laugh and Eddie smiles at the sound.

"I swear to God if you jinx this and I end up giving birth on the highway, I will kill you." They laugh together, but Eddie knows now that he has to get things in order if he wants to be with Buck ASAP. Neither man wants to say goodbye.

"I'll be with you soon, Evan."

"Yeah, okay. Eddie, I-I..." Eddie waits patiently for whatever Buck was going to say. His heart hammers in his chest.

"... Be safe, Eddie." He can't help the bitter feeling of disappointment that floods through him, but he returns the sentiment, regardless.

They hang up, and for a moment, Eddie simply sits on his bed, head in his hands. All he wanted to do as they said their goodbyes was to tell Buck that he loved him. He doesn't feel like he's earned the right to say that to him yet, though. He has to earn it.

With that in mind, he starts packing a bag, calling Hen to see if she and Karen would be able to babysit Chris while Eddie is in Texas.

Dhdhjajsiejsj so sorry about that again, hope you enjoy (and thanks again to that person who sent that other ask, bc that was an amazing blurb they sent 😌) 😭😭😭

#sorry it took me forever to post #i am bad at posting auierhgihef #but this is a fantastic continuation <3 #i was ecstatic when i got this in my inbox !!!#ALSO CAN I JUST SAY #the line about statistics about babies born in cars was so ON POINT #i died #thanku anon #this made me emotional at work euohrgwriojf #ask #anons

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 7: Hangovers and Confrontations

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

AO3 Link

I’ve been crazy busy this week, so this one is a bit short, I’m sorry! Thank you for your kind, complimentary, and h*rny thoughts in my messages this week. They truly keep me going. Big shoutout, also, to the few people that have messaged me angry about how long it’s taking Hotch and reader to get together - you had ample warning I was gonna drag this out ;) Final bit of business: there will be no chapter next Friday. I’m going to take the next two weeks to get ahead on writing so I’m not panicking when the content starts to get longer and more ~intense~. I’m sorry for that :( Thank you so much for your continued support, truly. You’re all amazing. Lastly - shoutout to @honeyshores for your advice on this one <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: You try to determine whether it's the hangover or Hotch causing more of your headache.

Words: 2320

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Your phone’s ringtone blared into your ear, waking you up from a dreamless sleep. Opening it to check the notification, you groaned at the bright light emitting from the screen. Upon seeing it was a text from Hotch, all traces of unconsciousness dissipated, and you sat up in bed, head pounding.

Ok, so you were really fucking hungover.

After Hotch freaked out on you last night and you ditched Cooper, you’d made it your mission to have fun with the rest of the team, which involved you buying everyone many more drinks. It worked - you didn’t leave until 2 am - but you were about to pay the price, because Hotch apparently wanted everyone at the office in 30 minutes. You checked the time.

7:00 am.

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was doing this on purpose.

You showered and threw on a dress, praying the commute to the BAU would give the 3 ibuprofen currently digesting in your otherwise empty stomach time to work.

It didn’t - in fact, it just provided ample time for the nausea to set in. But by the haggard looks everyone else was shooting as they settled into the meeting room, they seemed to be in the same boat.

Garcia, wearing massive sunglasses and laying on the couch in the corner, spoke first. “I threw up in the shower this morning.”

Morgan raised his head out of his crossed arms on the table, probably about to make some quip about Garcia and showers, but seemed to think better of being upright and laid his head back down with a grunt.

“I feel great,” Reid said with a smile, prompting groans out of everyone, including yourself.

“That’s because you had like, 3 drinks.” JJ said. “And 2 of them were beer.”

“It’s also because I drank an appropriate amount of water. Did you know if you consume 8 ounces of water with each alcoholic drink, you can reduce the incidence of hangovers by-”

“Kid,” Rossi interrupted, taking a break from gulping down a massive mug of coffee. “Know your audience.”

“Everyone here?” Hotch asked, walking in and flicking on the lights, which earned him a collective hiss from the rest of the team. His shock at the reaction quickly turned to faint amusement. “More importantly, is everyone capable of working today without throwing up in a trashcan?”

“I’ll do my best, Sir, but I make no promises,” said Garcia, who definitely looked the worst for wear.

“Well, good, because Internal Affairs requested the Use of Deadly Force reviews early this year.”

Another groan from everyone, with the exception of you, who had no idea what reports he was referring to. As if reading your mind, Hotch turned to you and explained, “Use of Deadly Force reviews are required reports we fill out annually in which we analyze and justify every situation where deadly force was used against a subject. I know you weren’t here for most of these, but you can still help type them up, and it’ll be helpful to go over the cases for your learning.”

You nodded, not thrilled to watch the team dredge up the worst moments of the past year, but thrilled that today’s task didn’t require you to move from your chair. Hotch slid a box of files onto the table, reminded you all that he’d be in his office if you needed anything, and took his leave.

“Doesn’t he have to go over these with us, seeing as…” you trailed off, unsure how to speculate that Hotch was probably the one to take the shot in at least half of these cases.

Morgan knew what you were trying to say. “He goes over them before we submit the reports to Internal Affairs.” He grabbed the top file from the box and grimaced. “The Toelle case, man, remember that one?”

Prentiss sighed and rubbed her temples. “Just when I thought I might get through the day without losing my breakfast.”

____________

You pushed your laptop away and slouched back into your chair. “I need a break.”

It was a miracle you’d made it to this point, honestly - your headache was now raging despite pain relievers, and you’d spent half the day meticulously poring over the actions of some of the BAU’s most gruesome killers. (Prentiss was right - the Toelle file had been enough to make everyone, even Reid, turn a little green).

“You doing alright, kiddo?” Rossi asked, peering over the file he was reading.

“Just hungover. Went a little harder than I expected to, ya know?”

“What happened with Hotch last night?” Reid asked.

“Reid!” JJ admonished.

Morgan shrugged. “Hey, we’re all thinking it. We saw him drag you outside, then he stormed back in and left. How’d you manage to piss him off so bad?”

“I’m surprised you noticed anything. You were pretty occupied,” Rossi said, raising his eyebrows towards Garcia, who flushed scarlet.

You laughed and sent a silent thank you to Rossi for taking the heat off of you.

“He just told me the guy I was dancing with was on coke and that I shouldn’t hang out with him.” You shrugged. “It was weird and I kinda freaked out on him at first, but I guess he was right.”

That didn’t get the nonchalant response you expected - everyone looked just as confused as you were when Hotch had initially approached you.

“Wait, hold on,” Prentiss said, sitting forward. “He told you not to dance with that guy because he was on drugs?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “He said after Garcia got attacked by that one man, everyone on the team needs to be more careful about who they associate with. Is that not… the case…?”

You trailed off, because judging by the looks the rest of the team were exchanging, it definitely wasn’t .

JJ shook her head. “Hotch has never really cared what we do in our private lives unless it affects our job.”

“Yeah, like remember that time you dated Will for a year without telling us and we had to pretend we didn’t know?” Prentiss asked, grinning.

“Or that time you hooked up with the mail guy and you made us sign for your packages for the next month?” Morgan ribbed back at Prentiss.

“I was drunk -”

“I think you should talk to Aaron,” Rossi suggested gently over what was quickly becoming a team debate over who had the craziest love life.

Still reeling over the knowledge that Hotch’s erratic behavior towards you wasn’t merely some standard attempt to keep the team safe, you nodded and stood.

It was time for some answers, god damn it.

The righteous indignation that spurred you towards Hotch’s office was quickly being replaced by nervousness as you neared. You considered turning back, but you were sure he heard you stomping down the hall, and you weren’t trying to make a habit of awkwardly hesitating outside like you had at his apartment. Despite his door being ajar, you knocked gently, and he looked up from his standard mound of paperwork and nodded.

“Come in.”

You obliged and sat down across the desk from him, twiddling your fingers. He waited for you to speak, never one to opt out of awkward silence.

“I think we should talk about what happened last night. Sir.”

He cocked his head slightly, setting down his pen and folding his hands in front of him.

“What are you referring to?”

You hated how he did this - it was an interrogation tactic, you knew that. He’d make the subject describe a situation with which both parties were clearly familiar to get their interpretation of events, which was usually very telling. And, more importantly, it made them uncomfortable.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m referring to you pulling me away from the group and telling me not to dance with that guy at the club.”

Hotch sighed and picked his pen back up, scanning his paperwork, making it very clear he felt this conversation wasn’t worth his time. “I explained my reasoning last night. If you take issue with the standards I expect of my team outside of the office-”

“But you don’t,” you blurted out, cutting him off.

“Don’t what?” he asked, now looking at you.

“Don’t expect that of your team,” you explained. “I talked to them about it just now. They said you’ve never acted that way before.”

“Their interpretation of events may be different-”

“It’s not their interpretation,” you interrupted for the second time. “They told me about all their dating escapades and you’ve never made it your business, not once. Why am I different to you?”

You hadn’t intended that last part to come out the way it did, and you cringed at the vulnerability in your tone. He was silent for one, two seconds, and you knew then he was making a decision, that the answer to your question wasn’t the simple truth he’d projected it to be.

“You’re the youngest member of the team, and the least experienced. I feel a responsibility to make sure you don’t make any decisions that you may regret. I’m sorry if you felt I was out of line.”

The detachment in his tone felt like a punch to the gut. Some part of you had been secretly wishing, you supposed, that his actions betrayed something deeper - that you were different to him, and not just because you were young and naive. And when the team had reacted the way they did, you’d gotten your hopes up that it had meant something. Just like him telling you about his past. Just like him killing Matthews. Just like… it didn’t matter . Even if he had been lying just now, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He wasn’t letting you in because he didn’t want to. You’d overestimated your significance in his life, but in reality, you were probably no more than a blip on his radar. Hotch was the sun, the central point to which everyone around him was drawn, and you were a lonely, distant planet that had somehow convinced yourself you were close enough to have gotten burned.

Choking back undeserved tears, you left his office, fighting the bile that was finally rising from your stomach, realizing that this was about to be the second time in as many days that your feelings for him had made you puke.

____________

When Matthews lunged at you, he hadn’t spared a thought, not a moment for consideration before breaking his neck. He knew, even as he felt the vertebra detach from its seat in the base of the skull, that there had been other paths - not that killing him was unrequited, of course, but it was a last-resort type of action, and Hotch had never been a last-resort type of man. Morgan hadn’t questioned it, not beyond a hushed, “You good?” after the whole thing went down, but he could sense his shock at the fact that Hotch was the one to go straight for lethality.

And your reaction - that was what kept him awake at night. Not killing the suspect; it was a sick truth, but he’d killed far too many people by now to have that same nauseous, horrified reaction he did the first few times. No, it was the way you looked at him afterwards. He’d expected shock, panic - hell, even complete disgust - but you’d looked at him like he was your hero. Like he was good, somehow. And he’d wanted to correct every day since, say, “No, you’ve got me wrong, I’m not what you think I am,” but he hadn’t mustered up the courage. He’d grown to need that look, if he was being honest with himself; needed someone to gaze upon him with the admiration and respect and doe-eyed awe that you did, because sometimes it was the only thing that kept him from going home alone to his apartment and shattering every mirror in the fucking place so he didn’t have to look at his reflection.

So when you’d asked him - all flushed face and halting words and twisting fingers - why he’d acted the way he did, he couldn’t be truthful with you. He’d answered with what should’ve been the truth, because he couldn’t tell you that he’d wanted to kick that boy’s teeth in from the minute he saw him touch you for daring to defile something so innocent and pure and good, even if you’d wanted it. Especially if you’d wanted it, if he was being honest with himself.

This was all twisted, of course. There were a million ways to profile a man in his 50’s who thought the way he did about someone your age (not to mention his employee, for fuck’s sake), none of them good. He’d deserved the raised eyebrow Rossi gave him before he stalked off to drag you from the dancefloor, and he’d more than deserved the constant, chiding internal voice scolding him whenever he paid too much attention to you, asked you an easy question just so he could see you light up at knowing the answer, divulged information he hadn’t talked about with anyone in years.

He saw how much his words affected you. You’d tried to hide it, but you were so endearingly bad at masking your feelings, and even though his stomach twisted to see you crushed, he felt a twinge of hope knowing you’d wanted a different answer. He could’ve given you one that would have made you happier:

“You’re important to me.”

“I was worried about you.”

Even, “I wanted to spend time with you last night, instead.”

But those were all too adjacent to a truth that he starkly refused to consider.

So he let you down, because letting people down was something with which Aaron Hotchner had plenty of goddamn practice.

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ot7always · 4 years

Text

Fractured (part 1)

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Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (platonic); future Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, (future) smut

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence including murder (non-explicit). Mentions of sex (non-explicit). Mentions of drugs, guns, neglect, physical abuse, parental death. Toxic household, implicit mentions of mental illness (depression).

Rating: 18+

Summary: You’d always known something was strange and different about your “family,” but it wasn’t as though your environment encouraged curiosity from you. You thought you wanted to know all the answers, but nobody ever told you that the more you learned the more pieces of yourself you would leave behind.

A/N: This is my first story in this fandom, and I haven’t written anything for any fandom in years. This plot came to me all of a sudden last night and I decided I needed to write it. Please let me know what you think!

Masterlist

You used to be naive.

You were 11 when you first held a gun.

12 when you first made every shot through the centre of the target.

13 when you first noticed the fathers’ proud eyes rather than empty ones.

14 when you first defeated one of the boys in a spar.

15 when you first learned the details of why this was all necessary.

16 when the boys last saw you smile for real.

17 when you first participated in a mission, knuckles bloody for the first time.

18 when you first gave yourself to a man, only to later drug him and strangle him in his sleep.

They say ignorance is bliss, and you can’t help but to agree. Knowledge is not always power – you understand that better than anyone. Because the day you sought more knowledge was the last day you might have considered yourself truly happy.

“I said no. You’re not going anywhere.” The man looked at you, stone-faced in the doorway to his office. You had sought him out for permission to attend a classmate’s birthday party, but already regretted trying. It wasn’t as if you were ever allowed to go anywhere but school and back, escorted by the man’s driver.

Your neck had to crane upward to give him the pleading looks that often worked on his wife, but to no avail. With your head barely reaching the man’s waist, his cold stare had your six-year-old heart pounding, tears filling your eyes.

“But-“ you started, however it appeared there was no room for negotiation. The door was slammed in your face, door rattling in the frame. The noise was enough to make you jump, hands rising to wipe away the wetness that you could no longer hold back after being denied again.

Wanting to hide under your covers for the rest of the night lest you run into the man again, you turned around but instantly collided with another body. Gasping, your eyes immediately fell to the floor, hands falling to your sides.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered with as clear of a voice as you could manage, unwilling to invite the anger of another in the household, especially not the other adults. But the response was not one you expected.

“Y/N?” a soft voice questioned, reaching for your trembling hands. Your eyes rose to meet those of Namjoon’s, who only looked at you with more concern once he properly saw your state. His eyes swept over you quickly, assuring himself you weren’t hurt. He was only a few years older than you, but he worried for you greatly. “What happened?”

Hearing a kind voice after such an icy rejection only caused you to cry harder, stepping forward to wrap your arms around Namjoon’s waist, head buried in his chest. He accepted you without hesitation – it isn’t as though this is the first time this has happened. His hand rose to rub at your back, his warm touch calming you down some. But still, you did not offer an explanation. You knew the rules in this house, and it was your own fault for wanting more, after all. As you begun to pull away, still seeking the safety of your bed to avoid the rest of the world, Namjoon’s hands remained on your shoulders.

“Did my father say something to you again?” he questioned, sympathy in his gaze. You breaking eye contact was answer enough for him. And while he wished he could do something more for you, approaching his father about this would only invite him to unleash his anger on both of you.

Instead, he grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with your own. When you peered at him inquisitively, he was glad to see that while your eyes were shiny and nose runny, you were no longer crying. Unwilling to let you mope for the rest of the day, he begun leading you away.

“I’ll make you some pasta, okay? I’m sure you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” he said, continuing the long trek from the upstairs rooms down to the kitchen.

While no, you hadn’t eaten, the last time you ate Namjoon’s pasta you ended up throwing up into the toilet hours later. But unwilling to reject his kindness, you allowed him to seat you at the dining table as he looked for ingredients in the fridge. You had planned to sit and watch him quietly, until you felt somebody collide with you from behind, arms wrapping around your neck.

“Y/N! We need one more person for Mario Party!” an excited voice yelled right by your ear, making you wince. After giving you the appropriate 0.3 seconds to formulate a proper response, hands begun shaking you at the shoulders hard enough to whip your head forward and back.

“Taehyungie…” you started, ready to deny him, unsure if you could handle the raucous of three young boys yelling at each other for stealing stars.

“Pleeeeeease! Please please please pleaseplease,” he begged, rocking your smaller body back and forth in the chair. His enthusiasm had you cracking your first smile since returning home from school.

“Y/N! We’re waiting for you!” a softer voice called from the living room. While you had been thinking about denying Taehyung, you never would’ve been able to deny Jimin. While mischievous, he had never been anything but kind to you growing up, leaving a huge soft spot in your heart for him.

Namjoon let out a small laugh from the stove, where he was stirring a pot that seemed to be letting out a suspicious amount of smoke for what he claimed to be pasta.

“You’d better join them or you’ll never hear the end of it,” he chuckled, giving you a wide grin when he saw you looking significantly happier than before. He was thankful that even if each of their parents might give you a hard time, at least you had seven brothers who only wanted to make you happy.

By the time you were ten years old, you had grown to accept that your life would not be like the lives of your classmates. You would not bake cookies at other girls’ houses, you would not join the after-school volleyball team, and you would not walk with friends to the ice cream shop down the street from school. That isn’t to say you hadn’t been invited. You had, years ago, but a child can only be told no so many times before they stop trying. After all, who wants to ask a question knowing the answer will always be rejection?

You were friendly with your classmates, but they knew you were some type of untouchable. You heard the whispers. She says she likes us, but why won’t she hang out? Why does the same car with tinted windows pick you up everyday? Why were you always alone on Parents’ Day?

While others had always wondered about your life, nobody dared to ask you. Whenever anyone mentioned family, the friendliness stopped. “It’s none of your business,” you would always answer, ending the conversation then and there. If your teachers ever tried to get information out of you, you would tell them not to worry. You always had an excuse for your parents not being there.

“They’re away on a trip.”

“My mother is ill.”

“They need to work during the day.”

The staff at school thought your parents were government officials, and you had likely been instructed not to talk about it. They were half right – your entire living memory you have been instructed not to talk about your family or your living situation no matter what.

It was easy to lie about why your parents weren’t there when your parents were dead. After all, who was there to refute your claims when the only family you had to speak of wasn’t even related to you by blood? The seven young boys – teenagers now, you supposed – had always been close to you, but you weren’t family.

No, you had been told that your parents were business associates of the seven families, but they had unfortunately died in an accident shortly after your birth. Unwilling to send their friends’ newborn to an orphanage, they instead took you in and allowed you to live with their families, where they raised you.

If raising you was the right term. In fact, many of the boys’ fathers ignored your existence. Namjoon’s father seemed to loathe you, though you didn’t think you did anything to cause such hate. However, you supposed that since he was not a kind man to his own son either, you could not complain. He was the head of the household, after all. You didn’t dare anger him, preferring to keep out of his way than to risk his booming voice and hard gaze.

It was not an ideal life. This much you understood, after seeing your classmates boast of their grades to their parents, happily shoving their report cards in their faces. When you see fathers raise their sons above their head, making obnoxious noises and pretending they’re an airplane, something deep inside you mourns something you’ve never had. You’ve never laughed at your father’s jokes, nor picked out an outfit with your mother.

It was not an ideal life, but at the very least you had the boys. They were perhaps the only people you could ever call a friend. They were loud and annoying, but also the only people who made you feel that you had a home.

By the time you were eleven, you had become curious. After all, every television show you’ve seen only had one family in one house, sometimes two. Seven was unheard of as far as you knew, and your adolescent brain with a newfound passion for science and mystery novels needed to know why this was. Of course, nobody could know about his goal of yours. This was top secret.

It started with casual eavesdropping. Before, you had tried to avoid the men in the house at all costs. Their serious looks scared you, and though the majority never specifically targeted you with their anger, you dared not risk it. However, you knew the men of the house frequently gathered behind closed doors, sometimes their wives too. It almost seemed like a business meeting, based on the dramas you’ve seen Seokjin watching in his spare time.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak around in the house, considering your presence was ignored by most. Even the maids didn’t look twice at your antics, knowing how teenagers always seemed to play weird games.

It was difficult to listen well, and you didn’t want to risk getting caught. You’ve only heard snippets of conversation, but it was enough to raise suspicion. The words you’ve been able to catch recently – “mission,” “warehouse,” “armed,” had you furrowing your brows, but what confused you most was “Bangtan,” or what you thought was Bangtan. You didn’t know what that meant. But what surprised you most was how often the others boys’ names seemed to come up, particularly Seokjin and Yoongi, the two eldest.

Your sleuthing continued through the weeks, but the words were hard to hear and you didn’t gain much from it. In fact, you considered giving up and trying to figure things out based on what you already had, but you figured one more try couldn’t hurt.

Perhaps you should have stayed in your room. Not that you knew now whether that could have helped you or not.

On one Wednesday after school, you returned home quicker than normal, traffic having been light for some reason. You figured you may as well use the opportunity to listen to any conversations that might be going on. After all, you made it home earlier than expected, so perhaps nobody would think you to be there to hear anything at all. Not that anyone paid attention to your schedule at all.

So there you sat – squatted, more accurately – outside Namjoon’s father’s office. You heard two muffled voices inside, but could not place who the other belonged to. What you did not expect, however, was to hear your own name coming from their lips.

“We’ve waited long enough. Y/N is useless right now, a liability more than anything,” a gruff voice said. The domineering tone itself told you it was Namjoon’s father, even if you couldn’t see anything at all.

“She’s still young-”

“And your son was years younger than her when he learned of everything. Stop babying her.”

Hearing a conversation centered around you was definitely not the norm. You leaned closer, hoping to hear better, but that was your downfall. Your shoulder brushed against the door – barely a touch at all, but enough to shake the door, and clearly noticeable to the men inside. Before you could even think to stand up, the door swung open, your eyes meeting those of Taehyung’s father like a deer in the headlights.

You felt as though your chest was going to explode, bracing yourself for the worst berating of your life. Would they kick you out? Would they hit you?

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice trembled along with the rest of you, “I thought I heard my name and I was curious, I promise I didn’t mean to,” you let out all in one breath, flinching and preparing yourself for the yelling, the fists, for anything.

What you didn’t expect was laughter. Namjoon’s father’s laughter, to be exact.

“The choice has been made for us,” he declared, directed toward Taehyung’s father.

“Sit.” he instructed you harshly, gesturing toward a chair across from his desk. There was just enough distance between you and him to feel that you were miles away. It made the man seem even more powerful than before.

“Do you remember what we told you about your parents?” he said as he fixed his stare on your wide eyes, more a demand than a question. You nodded, afraid a verbal answer would only get caught in your throat.

“Then you know we were in the same business,” he continued. You nodded again. This is the nicest he’s ever been speaking to you, and that had you relaxing some.

“You see, the boys here are all involved in this business as well. That is their responsibility to their family. Their duty. And it is time for you to fulfill your duty as well. This is what your parents would have wanted, and it is what we need from you in return for sheltering you all these years,” he went on, taking in your expression. The confusion and wariness must have been apparent on your face, because he kept on without waiting for a reply.

“You will train. After school for four hours everyday. You will become part of this business. The boys will help you,” he stated firmly, and you clearly knew these were not requests. These were commands, and you had no place to deny them, despite the questions you wanted to ask. You turned your head to look at Taehyung’s father, who had been one of the only people in the house who treated you as human. He nodded at you reassuringly, hiding his own hesitation well.

“Yes, sir,” you managed to get out, the first words you’d spoken since you entered the room. Even those were a struggle considering your shock.

“Good. You start tomorrow. Now leave.”

And train you did.

You were 11 when you first held a gun.

12 when you first made every shot through the centre of the target.

13 when you first noticed the fathers’ proud eyes rather than empty ones.

14 when you first defeated one of the boys in a spar.

15 when you first learned the details of why this was all necessary.

16 when the boys last saw you smile for real.

17 when you first participated in a mission, knuckles bloody for the first time.

18 when you first gave yourself to a man, only to later drug him and strangle him in his sleep. That was the first night you’d made yourself vulnerable in years, sobbing into Hoseok’s arms lamenting what you had done.

19 when you finally seemed to earn the respect of Namjoon’s father.

19 when you finally seemed to realize you would never be happy, never hold a real job, never get a real education.

You were no longer just part of the house, invisible to the powerful men and their wives who lived there. You had skill, talent.

No, you were no longer just a thing. You were a weapon, an asset. A tool to be used.

But a tool can only be used for so long before its shine fades.

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#bts fanfic #bts series #bts x reader #bts mafia au #ot7 x reader #yoongi x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fic

283 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

“Close” - A Streetlight Sequel

F/M Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Warnings: Soft!Dom Changbin; Light Smut?; Language

Genre: Family AU; Streetlight Sequel

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: She’s like a a new world waiting to be discovered, and Changbin wants to know everything about her. But maybe they could start by moving in together with the rest of his family.

A/N: As you can tell by the song choice title, this is a much more upbeat story! But I love the lyrics that Han wrote 💙

Also, I don’t know what’s up with the gif I chose, but I like it, okay!

On Sundays, Changbin had the rare honor of sleeping through his usual alarm clock - and he decided that noon was an appropriate time to wake-up when his hunger eventually got the best of him. But it was still with great reluctance that he drug himself into the shower, standing beneath the scalding water with his eyes closed to savor the warmth. Ever since Chan replaced the hot water heater, Changbin had done everything in his power to savor the welcoming change.

Afterward, he walked downstairs to greet Jeongin and Y/N who were both sitting at the kitchen table while engaged in a fierce game of battleship. “Hey, you two,” Changbin said, grabbing a piece of toast from a platter on the counter. “What’s going on?”

“A bet,” Y/N said, leaning in across the table to glare at Jeongin. “But he’s cheating.”

“Am not!” Jeongin decried, slamming his hand down on the table. “How can you cheat at this game?”

“Shall I list it out for you?” Y/N asked, and Changbin smirked at her competitive tone.

“Please don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone,” Changbin said, ruffling Y/N’s hair on his way out the door.

He passed by Chan and Minho who were both out on the porch as the two of them studied the broken swing that laid in shambles after Jisung attempted to use it for nefarious purposes. “Should we even bother replacing it?” Chan asked while Minho attempted to adjust the chain with no luck.

“If you do, then Jisung isn’t allowed anywhere near it,” Changbin remarked, looking over the sad remnants of the swing one last time before walking to the SUV waiting in the driveway.

He was only working a short shift that morning, and there was some relief in knowing that he wouldn’t have to deal with persistent customers for longer than a couple of hours. Changbin was convinced that most people simply complained for the hell of it, especially considering the fact that their questions almost always concerned trivial matters. But at least he had gotten better at managing his expressions - doing his best not to betray his annoyance.

There was also something else for Changbin to look forward to this weekend, and it had motivated him more than anything else for the past week: Sara was moving in with the rest of them, and Changbin would no longer have to make special trips out of his way to visit her apartment on the other side of town. It was enough for Changbin to get through anything that might come his way, and he even offered to help one customer carry their packages to their car even though that went above and beyond his current job description. “Thanks for coming,” he told the woman who simply grunted in response.

However, nothing could ruin Changbin’s good mood, especially when he received a surprising visitor during his lunch break. “Hey, you,” he said, greeting Sara with a gentle kiss when she brought them something to eat.

“It’s not much,” she admitted sheepishly, but Changbin was touched regardless. He even made a big show of enjoying the meager offering, keeping their fingers intertwined across the table as Sara talked about one of her most recent projects.

It was decidedly domestic, and Changbin couldn’t wait until he got this on a regular basis. Ever since he met Sara for the first time, he had felt this peculiar insistence to learn everything about her - even the most insignificant details. Because they all mattered to him, and he was slowly falling into an endless void where there never seemed to be enough answers to the constant questions.

“I love you,” Changbin whispered against her sweet lips as they kissed outside in the parking lot. It had only taken Changbin one month into their relationship to admit his truest feelings, and he was relieved to hear Sara reciprocate since he was very much aware that some might consider that much too early to declare such things. And maybe Changbin had never been in love enough to really understand what it meant, but he was willing to take the risk with Sara to figure it out.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Sara said from the window of her car, and Changbin watched her leave before he re-entered the post office with a renewed enthusiasm to leave on time that day.

The next day

When Changbin woke-up that Friday morning, he was momentarily disoriented before he remembered that he had spent the night in Sara’s apartment. He turned his head to the side to admire her sleeping form, grinning at the hold she maintained on his arm as she held him close. Changbin had learned that Sara liked to wrap around him during the night, and it was nothing short of endearing.

But it was also hot in the bedroom, and Changbin gently extracted their limbs before rolling over to the edge of the bed. He ran a hand over his exhausted face before reaching over for his phone. There were a few messages from Chan, but Changbin figured the older was trying to ask his opinion on a new wall paint color.

Instead, Changbin forced himself to leave the comforts of the bedroom for the kitchen where he started making a fresh pot of coffee. Since they were officially moving all of Sara’s things into the house, Changbin wanted to make sure that they got an early start. Based on the number of boxes currently stacked in her living room, it wouldn't be a simple endeavor, and Changbin imagined that it would be well past sundown before everything was finished.

“Good morning.”

Changbin grinned when he reached for two mugs out of the cabinet, spotting Sara emerging from her bedroom with a yawn. “I made us something,” Changbin said, pouring a cup for Sara and placing it down at her spot near the counter.

“Thanks,” she said. “You didn’t have to.”

“I think we both need it for today,” Changbin said with a smile, brushing a soft kiss across the pout of her lips.

“Ugh, it’s not that I’m not excited,” Sara said. “But I’m also not impressed with the idea of dragging all my shit in the cars.”

“That’s what you have me for,” Changbin said with a wink, carefully rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to flex his bicep.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Sara teased him, squealing in delight when Changbin retaliated by pulling her into his lap.

“It’s your last day in this place,” Changbin remarked, humming in delight when Sara made herself comfortable against his chest.

“It’s also our third month anniversary,” Sara revealed to him, and Changbin arched an eyebrow in consideration.

“Should we have chosen a different day to move?”

“Actually, I think it’s perfect that we’re doing it today,” Sara said. “What does the rest of your family think?”

“I guess it’s something different,” Changbin said. “They might ask you a thousand questions.” Changbin rolled his eyes at the idea of their antics, but Sara didn’t seem at all bothered by the possibility.

“Is everyone at home?”

“Minho and Chan will be late,” Changbin said. “They couldn’t afford to take the day off from work.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Sara said. “We’ll manage with our limited options.”

Changbin chuckled, reaching out with one hand to grab his coffee cup, wondering if he’d ever get used to mornings like this with the person he loved. Would anything change after they moved in together? “I want you to know that you can always come to me,” Changbin said. “My family can be a handful, and I’m not gonna be offended or anything if they get on your nerves.”

“Changbin,” Sara said, tilting his head to the side to meet her steady gaze. “Everything will be fine.”

Changbin nodded, leaning in for another kiss because there was no better way to reassure himself than by tasting the sweet chap-stick on her lips.

Graciously, the weather was mild when Changbin and Sara pulled into the driveway outside of his house, and Changbin rolled his eyes to see everyone already gathered on the front line in a perfect formation - like they were soldiers awaiting orders. “You’re late,” Hyunjin said, impatiently tapping his foot against the grass.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Changbin said, shutting the door to his SUV as he went around to open the trunk.

“She’s here!” Jisung gasped, and Changbin winced as he imagined his younger friend bombarding Sara with his endless chattering.

“Be nice,” Changbin warned him, and he started arranging boxes on the sidewalk - pleased to see Y/N take control of the situation and grab two of them between her arms before walking towards the house.

The others followed suit, even though Jisung was keeping a close eye on Sara who stretched her arms once she opened the door of her car. “Welcome home,” Changbin said, but he immediately regretted the words when he recognized how cheesy they sounded.

But Sara only laughed in response. “I see you’ve already ordered everyone to start working.”

“It’s no big deal,” Jisung chirped, even as he fumbled back against the side of Changbin’s SUV under the weight of the boxes he was balancing.

Thankfully, Jisung managed to find his footing long enough to adjust his heavy load, rushing into the house behind Seungmin while Y/N walked back outside. In the brief amount of time that Sara had been apart of his life, he was amazed to see how close the two had become. It all started when Changbin agreed to entertain Y/N’s suggestion of a double date with Minho, and Changbin was completely unprepared to discover that Sara and Y/N had a lot more in common than he initially perceived. They talked for the entirety of their dinner reservations, and Y/N insisted on riding home with Changbin and Sara even though Minho wasn’t happy to lose her company.

Nevertheless, it also made Changbin incredibly happy to see the two of them getting along so well, and Sara opened her arms wide for an eager Y/N who returned the embrace with a smile. “How’s school?” Sara asked when she pulled back.

“I’m glad that I get to graduate at the end of the month,” Y/N said, glancing back at the pile of Sara’s boxes with a curious expression. “What’s in this one?” Y/N asked, pointing at a box labeled VHS.

“I always forget that you’re younger than me.” Sara laughed before explaining to a puzzled Y/N about the concept of VHS films from the 1990s.

Meanwhile, Changbin could hear Jeongin whining about something to Seungmin, and he frowned when he noticed that Jeongin was sauntering back to the house without any boxes. Changbin decided that it was best to figure out why one of his helpers had already abandoned their duties, and he crossed his arms over his chest when he caught up to Jeongin. “Why are you moping around?”

“Changbin, I’m hungry! We skipped lunch because we thought you were coming earlier,” Jeongin replied, and he sat right down on the porch steps as if there weren’t several more boxes to carry inside. “Hey!” he cried when Hyunjin knocked him on the back of the head while walking down the steps.

“Hyunjin, don’t do that,” Changbin said, looking back at Jeongin with a sigh. “We can eat after everything’s moved inside.”

“But that could take all day,” Jeongin pointed out, and Changbin reluctantly agreed to call in a pizza so that Jeongin could quickly recuperate and help with the remainder of Sara’s belongings.

Of course, he didn’t anticipate everyone stopping when the pizza arrived, and most of the boys crowded together on the front porch while eating and chatting away like they didn’t have unfinished work waiting for them in the driveway. “I think you’re all just lazy,” Changbin grumbled when he navigated around the maze of drinks on his way inside with another set of boxes.

“You expect me to drag those heavy ass boxes around when I’ve got cheese pizza right here?” Jisung asked with an incredulous tone that it made it seem like Changbin had just proposed something entirely preposterous.

“That was part of our deal!” Changbin exclaimed. “Unless you want me to stop bringing home your snacks?”

“You always get the wrong brand anyway,” Jisung dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Changbin fought hard to remain composed.

At least Y/N was still working diligently, talking to Sara like she had been saving up on topics all week for them to discuss. But Changbin didn’t mind their easygoing conversation, and he wished that the other boys had as much desire to help Sara like Y/N. Of course, Chan should also be home soon, and he wouldn’t tolerate everyone else dawdling around on the staircase when there was still a lot to drag inside the house before nightfall.

And Changbin’s observation proved entirely accurate when Chan parked his car on the side of the street - marching across the yard to where Jisung noticed his approach and immediately abandoned the others to rush inside. “Oi,” Chan said, pausing as he examined the mess that had been left behind. “We don’t have time to sit around all day!”

“It was just a break,” Hyunjin said, but he cowered away at the look in Chan’s eyes and both Jeongin and Seungmin started to shove all of their trash inside the pizza box.

From there, Minho’s eventual arrival gave them a much-needed boost to organize everything into Changbin’s upstairs bedroom, and Changbin was pleasantly surprised to realize that it was only 5:00 by the time they were finished. “I’ve already had to change my clothes twice!” Hyunjin complained to Felix who merely nodded his head as he drank from his soda can.

“One day of manual labor won’t break you,” Chan said, opening the door for Hyunjin who was still moping about the condition of his hair.

“I think that went well,” Sara remarked from where she was leaning against the side of her car next to Y/N. “You did good, babe,” she added, offering Changbin a gentle kiss which he willingly accepted.

“I think we worked the hardest,” Y/N said.

“Maybe we should go for a drive,” Sara suggested. “You want to come, Y/N?”

“Sure!” Y/N said, and she was already calling dibs on the front seat of Changbin’s SUV.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked, sending Sara a questionable look. “We can always relax in our room.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said with a nod. “We can go get a snack or something.”

“Okay...” Changbin said, giving Sara another lingering moment to change her mind until she opened the back door of the SUV.

Changbin shrugged his shoulders and situated himself behind the wheel, grinning at Y/N who was already using the car’s bluetooth feature to play her favorite music to fill the silence agreeably as they started down the road at a moderate speed.

They only drove a few miles before Sara pointed out a small diner that she insisted was one of her favorites. But Changbin wasn’t entirely convinced based on the spare amount of cars surrounding the somewhat fading exterior of the restaurant. Still, Changbin parked outside of the local diner and observed the building with suspicion. “This looks questionable.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sara said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We can grab something quick before we go home.”

“That sounds nice,” Changbin conceded, and he also couldn't ignore the fact that his heart had skipped a beat because it was lovely to hear Sara claim his precious Haven as her new home.

However, they were only inside the restaurant for an hour before Y/N received a suspicious text upon which she insisted that they needed to leave. In response, Changbin glanced over at her with a mouthful of french fries that he had been sharing with Sara. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” Y/N stuttered, which she only ever did when she was nervous. But what did Y/N have to be so nervous about?

“We can stay until everyone’s done,” Changbin said, but he noticed Sara and Y/N exchanging a quick nod from the corner of his eye.

“It’s alright,” Sara said. “I think we’re all ready.”

Changbin was slow to process the sudden change in their demeanor - altering quickly from complacent to urgent right before his very eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, but Sara was already dragging them both out of the booth while Y/N walked ahead to take care of their bill at the register.

“Thank you for this, Binnie,” Sara said, and Changbin’s suspicions instantly melted away at the sweet nickname.

“You can thank me later,” Changbin flirted in return - leaning in for a kiss that was interrupted by Y/N who was urging them into the car.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said - making it very clear that she wasn’t in the mood to linger around in the parking lot.

But Changbin decided not to question Y/N’s strange behavior - maybe she was picking up on bad habits from Minho. In any case, it was better to let things go because both Sara and Y/N seemed more relaxed during the accumulating mileage back to the house. They listened to Y/N’s eclectic mixture of music on her phone and talked about how much work they still had to do when they organized Sara’s things into the available space in Changbin’s room.

“Maybe you can build like a storage building out back for the stuff you don’t need,” Y/N suggested, and Changbin grimaced at the thought of all the work required to build something like that.

“Oh! That’s a great idea, Changbin,” Sara said, and Changbin sighed but nodded his head regardless.

The topic in question filled up most of their conversation for the duration of the drive, ending abruptly when Changbin parked along the sidewalk and frowned when he noticed an unusual absence of his housemates. “Where is everyone?” Changbin wondered aloud, groaning in complaint when Y/N rushed to his side and practically drug him out of the SUV.

“Follow me,” she said in a conspiratorial tone.

“What’s going on?” Changbin demanded because both Y/N and Sara were giggling and he was feeling increasingly left out of their plans.

“You’ll love it, Changbin,” Y/N insisted when they walked inside the house, and she lead everyone to the back porch, pulling open the door in grand fashion. “Ta-da!”

At first, Changbin wasn’t sure why Y/N was making a big deal out their simple backyard. But then, he wagered a step outside, and he paused when he finally realized what Y/N had meant. Because, instead of their usual bland set-up, everything had been drastically transformed, and all of his family members were waiting with enormous smiles.

“Surprise!” Jeongin shouted, clapping his hands together in delight as he gestured at the decorations - balloons and streamers, glittery tablecloths, aromatic food dishes, and even a fire-pit in the middle of the grass.

Changbin’s mouth was practically dragging the ground at this point as he observed the elaborate display. “What’s all this about?” he asked, holding out an arm when Sara glued herself to his side.

“It’s for our anniversary,” Sara said. “They helped me get this ready!”

“Really?” Changbin laughed because it had definitely taken him by surprise. But it was a sincere gesture that spoke to his heart.

“It’s a surprise, dude,” Jisung said from where he was already helping himself to the candy bowls on the table.

“I can tell you worked hard,” Changbin said, but he decided that it was one of the nicest things that he had seen.

“Just enjoy yourself, baby,” Sara said, pulling him along as Y/N flitted away into Minho’s arms.

“Is this why you drug me to that restaurant?” Changbin asked as he sat down across from Jisung.

“I had to give them some time to get everything ready,” Sara said, nuzzling closer into Changbin’s neck.

“Man, you should’ve seen the look on your face!” Jisung exclaimed with a laugh.

In return, Changbin narrowed his eyes playfully. “Now, I’m definitely not bringing home your snacks.”

“Changbin,” Sara said, drawing his attention into the endless constellations which had formed from the flecks of gold in her brown irises.

“Whatever, but Changbin,” Jisung said, interrupting their intense staring contest. “The snacks were never real.”

“You little shit!”

It was late when Changbin and Sara were finally able to escape into the solace of their bedroom. Despite the exhaustion that he felt from the day’s events, Changbin was still quick to trap her between his arms against the door - connecting their lips in an all-consuming kiss. Sara sighed in contentment, and Changbin was absolutely delighted by the sweet sound.

“Is this a sign, Changbin?” she asked, pulling away so that they could both catch their breath. “Are you gonna have your way with me tonight?”

“If you’ll let me,” Changbin replied - studying the sensual pools of her eyes as he leaned in to feather a kiss across her flushed cheeks.

“On the bed,” Sara requested, and Changbin held her tight as they both navigated the intricate maze of Sara’s boxes which were loitered across the floor of their room.

Changbin was careful when he laid her down on the mattress, watching as she removed her t-shirt and jeans before he decided to do the same. “You’re beautiful,” Changbin told her earnestly, smirking at the way she turned to the side in embarrassment. “I’m serious,” Changbin added as he moved on top. “You know that, right?”

Sara managed a nod this time, and Changbin left a kiss across her forehead. Changbin was gentle because he loomed over Sara with broad shoulders and defined muscles while she was all delicate form and features that deserved to be treated with respect. Yet, at the back of his mind, Changbin couldn’t help but want to order around someone who always acted so meek and submissive. “Touch yourself for me,” Changbin said, and his voice was deeper and more commanding than his usual tone.

Sara moaned at his words, but she spread her legs and circled her fingers around her clitoris. It was an obscene sight, and Changbin could watch this all day - stroking his cock in time with the slow penetration of her fingers inside her wet opening. “Changbin, please,” she whined, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” Changbin said, reaching down to wipe away the salty evidence. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Please touch me,” Sara said, and Changbin was more than happy to oblige - replacing her fingers with his own and crooking them up in search of the elusive g-spot that would surely bring her the most pleasure. He also focused on stretching her out - ensuring that she would be ready to take his cock which hung heavy between his legs.

“How good does it feel?” Changbin asked, thrusting his fingers to mimic the same effect of his cock.

“It feels so good,” Sara said, and her hands reached out to grab his shoulders, holding him close so that she could connect their lips in a messy kiss that was satisfying nonetheless.

“I’m gonna use my cock now,” Changbin said, and he pulled out his fingers and brushed them across her lips. “Taste yourself.”

Sara nodded, opening her mouth and allowing Changbin to stick his fingers inside, groaning low in his throat when her tongue moved between each digit. “Such a good girl,” he said, aligning the tip of his erection with her swollen pussy. “Don’t keep those noises to yourself, sweetheart,” he said, and Sara was already moaning before he was even buried to the hilt - and her tight walls clung almost desperately to his erection as if ensuring that he couldn’t pull back out.

“God, you’re big,” Sara said, and Changbin allowed the compliment to feed his ego, pulling back out to just the tip before snapping his hips and plunging into the familiar embrace of her heat. “Changbin!” Sara cried, and Changbin froze for a moment before glancing at his door - remembering that he shared this place with his other roommates.

“You gotta be quiet,” he said, and Sara looked at him like he was making an impossible request. But he found it endearing nonetheless, reaching back for her discarded panties. “Use these,” he said, and Sara reluctantly allowed him to push them into her mouth.

Thereafter, Changbin felt more confident in himself, and he braced most of weight onto his forearms because it allowed him to penetrate his girlfriend in long, full strokes that had him reaching places deep inside that he was certain he had never accessed before. But it only spurred him to go even faster, and he was entranced by the image of Sara’s breasts moving in time to each successive thrust as he started to chase his own high.

He could tell when Sara came because he knew her signs by heart - the way her breath would hitch around a moan, and how she always closed her eyes while arching her back into the air. She was left panting and overstimulated while Changbin picked up the pace, driving his hips in thunderous grinds while feeling his entire body tip over the edge.

He eventually came like that - grunting into Sara’s shoulders as his hips gave a few more feeble rolls before stopping as his cum ran down her thighs. “What a mess,” Changbin remarked, chest heaving up and down as he removed the makeshift gag from Sara’s mouth - studying his girlfriend who looked seconds away from completely drifting off. “Are you okay?” he asked, moving onto his side and holding her close.

“I think you just sent me into the next dimension,” Sara remarked, and Changbin chuckled at the hyperbole.

“That was the idea,” he said, wrapping one arm around her waist as he pulled her tight to his overheated chest. “It wasn’t too much, right? I didn’t mean to force you to do anything.”

“I like when you take charge, but it wasn’t fun to have my underwear in my mouth, though,” Sara said, but she was smiling when she turned around to look at Changbin from over her shoulder. “Maybe we should consider installing sound-proof walls?”

“Now, there’s an idea,” Changbin said, and he could feel his eyelids grow heavier with the weight of his exhaustion. “The party was great, by the way. I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“There’s not a lot that I wouldn’t do for you,” Sara told him sweetly, and Changbin could feel his entire heart warming at the confession.

He closed his eyes and inhaled her sweet perfume - thanking whoever was watching over him that he had finally gotten his chance at finding his better half.

His soulmate.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshots #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz changbin #skz changbin fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #changbin fanfic #changbin smut #mostlycompetent

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ghost-in-between · 4 years

Text

More Than Enough - Christmas Truce 2020

Merry Late Christmas @dailudannos! I’m sorry again that this is extremely late. Kinda funny thought that we had each other :D Hope you enjoy this sall piece. (I don’t think I’ve written Technus or Skulker ever for more than 2 lines, so I hope it’s still fun to read.)

Headaches were different for ghosts. Or maybe it was a weird personal thing for Technus. He hadn't asked. All he did know is that headaches sucked and being a ghost sucked and Christmas sucked.

Almost on autopilot, he was decorating the tree in the living room, putting ornaments too close together or too far apart. It wasn't his living room, or his tree, or his ornaments. The only reason he cared enough to put up with this was because Skulker had so nicely asked him to. Why he'd want to spend his time with Technus, he had no idea.

There wasn't much about him, really. He was the kind of person that was so lame that they try too hard to be cool. Skulker was the kind of person that was just cool without trying at all. Technus didn't know when they had started hanging out or how, but he still wasn't sure how much longer Skulker would want this. Neither was he sure how many more ornaments fit on this tree. Was this an appropriate amount yet? Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Are you sure that's enough yet?"

Turning around, he was greeted by a smug grin, framed in metal. Unsure, he glanced at the tree, counting the ornaments silently, until he was interrupted by a chuckle.

"I was teasing you. It's more than enough.

Letting the air escape his lungs and coughing to hide his embarrassment, he closed the box of tree decorations. "I know that," he grumbled. A sudden increase in pain made his grip on the box loosen, but he managed not to drop it. Headaches always left a lingering wave of pressure rolling through his entire body. It was as though the pain didn't know to stay in one area.

Skulker grabbed the box from his hands and set it down by the table. "You good?" he asked, lightly masking his concern behind a grin.

Technus nodded, forcing a grin onto his face as well, dropping it the second the other turned away. Pretending to be cheerful for one holiday should really not be this hard. Music started playing from an old-timey record player, the tunes crackling gently as a Christmas song filled the air. "Oh, really? Is this necessary?" Technus wondered, less irritated about the song choice than the technology.

"Yes," Skulker confirmed, winking at him. Technus didn't have a response. "Be glad I didn't sign us up for the choir."

Oh god, the choir. Technus remembered hearing other ghosts talk about it. It might have also been in the weird newspaper that Ghost Writer has been sending out. He didn't care much for it. All it did was give him more headaches. "Yeah," he agreed, sinking into the couch. "I wouldn't have joined if you'd signed us up though."

Picking up some green and red lights, Skulker chuckled. "You think I would have given you a choice?"

"I would have simply not done it." Technus shrugged, watching the other finish up the decorations, by hand, no ghost powers.

"That's what you think." Skulker fiddled with the lights, getting them tangled up. "But-" He tugged on them. "In reality-" They got even more tangled. "You would have- ugh." He threw the lights on the ground in frustration. "Stupid lights."

"Here let me." Technus got up and swiftly pulled them apart, handing one end over to Skulker so they could hang it up together. He didn't get a thank you, but the fact that Skulker quietly accepted his help told him enough. The hunter was tough but he never failed to remind Technus of his soft side. It made him feel special. But it also scared him.

"I think that's all the lights I had left. I put some outside. Remind me to take them down again as soon as Christmas passed."

Technus nodded as he returned to his position on the couch. Couldn't have anyone see Skulker being a sucker for Christmas decorations of course. Another spike of pain made him screw his eyes shut, pushing himself into the cushions. Why did he have to be plagued by headaches, all the time? Part of him felt like he knew what caused them, but it was buried somewhere in his mind and he didn't have the energy to dig it out.

"What's wrong?"

Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of Skulker, looking at him suspiciously.

"Nothing." He forced himself to loosen his shoulders and shake off the pain. "The record player is just painful to look at." Skulker rolled his eyes at the comment. "Shouldn't you like all technology?"

Technus crossed his arms. "I have standards."

"So do I, that's why you're here."

Taken aback by the compliment – flirt? – Technus blinked and shook his head. Skulker did love to tease him. "Because I have standards and won't spend Christmas Eve without anyone to admire by epic power and wit?"

Skulker pushed him lightly, or at least lightly for him. "Me? Admire your power and wit? Dream on."

He know it was a joke, a tease. But then why did it feel like a jab between his ribs? "Ah, of course," he said, intending to make it sounds confident and like he was playing along to the joke. Instead it came out sounding bland and disappointing.

Skulker looked the tiniest bit horrified, uncomfortable, like he didn't expect this response and now had to think really hard on how to react. "I mean, you-" He cut himself off. Had he realized it was the truth?

The headache was a constant pounding by now, shaking his limbs. This was beyond stupid. He was letting his own thoughts get him down, on Christmas Eve, a day that was supposed to be cozy and nice, apparently. He didn't get the hype, really. A knock on the door interrupted the awkward situation and Technus quickly got up to check the door. Only on Christmas would he ever witness anyone actually knocking before entering. Swinging the door open, he was met by the sight of Ember and a bunch of other ghosts, wearing Christmas hats. Before he could say anything they took a deep inhale and started singing.

"Oh, please no."

Skulker came up behind him, looking torn between being amused and irritated. "Guess you couldn't escape them fully, after all."

Technus felt him look at him from the side, hoping his expression wasn't betraying how tired he felt and how much he regretted not saying no to today. It was silly, maybe. One day wasn't so bad, one song from a choir of people that wouldn't have stopped by his lair anyway. Not that he would have wanted that. Of course not.

Suddenly he was being pushed back inside, before Skulker said "Thanks, Merry Christmas!" and shut the door on the other ghosts.

"What-" Technus looked at Skulker, at the door, then back at Skulker. "Why did you do that? I thought you enjoyed it?"

"But you weren't."

Taken aback, Technus focused his gaze on the wall behind to Skulker, unsure what to say. The pain in his head felt loud. As a ghost, he didn't need to sleep, yet he felt so, so tired.

"Why did you come?"

"What?"

Skulker was mustering him, like he was trying to analyze his thoughts. He was glad that telepathy was an uncommon ghost power. "You don't like Christmas, so why did you come here today."

He thought about it, thought about his feelings for the holiday, about his feelings for Skulker, about the constant ache in his body that reminded him that he was different from the technology he controlled. "I don't know," he admitted.

Nodding, Skulker sat back down on the couch, patting the space next to him. Afraid of what was going through the other's head, Technus hesitantly complied. He opened his mouth to say something, apologize, maybe, but Skulker was faster.

"It's okay. I think I need to apologize."

Wait, what? Technus was so surprised even his head seemed to clear for a moment of confusion.

"Don't give me that look. Listen-" Skulker looked directly at him, unafraid. "I think I've been taking you for granted."

"What, no-"

"Please. Let me finish, alright?"

Technus nodded.

"I've been taking you for granted because I assumed if I enjoy hanging out with you, then so do you." Technus felt the movement on the couch as Skulker shifted. "And not just that. I've been assuming that if you tell me you're fine, you are fine. But you're not like that, are you?"

Looking away, Technus shrugged. He wasn't the tough one. It didn't really matter, did it?

"Hey, I know I'm the one wearing a metal suit, but you're the one that makes himself untouchable. You can tell me when something is wrong, you know?"

It sounded so foreign to him, yet the concept seemed familiar. He was untouchable when he encased himself in hardware or when he turned intangible, but was he untouchable as a person? Was he even still a person? As if in response, an invisible knife plunged into his head, making him stop the habit of pulling hair in through his nose. Yes, it seemed to say. Just because he died, he wasn't not a person anymore. He still felt pain, just a little differently.

Glancing at Skulker, who looked so genuine that it was hard to imagine him on the hunt, he sighed. It was Christmas, he was here, the lights on the tree shining on them and mixing with their own glow. Would a bit of honesty, a bit of showing weakness even be able to ruin this?

"I just," he closed his eyes for a moment. "I just have a terrible headache." Skulker seemed surprised, whether it was at the fact that he was troubled by a headache or that his words had gotten through to him somehow, he didn't know. "And I'm tired," Technus continued. "And I don't like Christmas." Before Skulker could reply, he smiled at him. "But," The headache was still pounding in his head, but he felt like he was letting himself be wrapped in a blanket. "I guess I'd still rather be tired here with you, than alone. So if you still like me when I'm weak and lame-"

Skulker took his head , effectively making him shut his mouth. "I like you how you are, strong and interesting and right here."

And Technus believed him.

#christmas truce 2020 #christmas truce #secret santa #danny phantom #skulker #technus #i'm so sorry #this is later than late

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