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spinachandhoney · 9 months

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SnakeFace episode 12 script

OKAY, this is where the original script aligns with the rewrites, so there may still be a few inconsistencies I didn't catch, so I apologise for those. Keep in mind, I wrote these in 2020-2021, so my writing style is very different from how it is where I'm currently writing/revising (as of this moment where I am writing this draft, I am on episode 126 of the script, and episode 13 of the published comic)

[script under the cut]

[there are parts which were removed from the episode because I refused to cut it into two parts like episode 9, but I will leave those scenes in here for you to read despite them not being in the actual published version]

Ivan was sitting in the den, alone again. Joey came down the stairs, his hair matted. He saw Ivan by the fire and sat next to him with a grunt.

“Rough night?” He asked.

Ivan nodded. “Mhm. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. It’s a nice house. A lot less noise than in the city.”

“That’s true.” Ivan sighed. It was silent for a while.

“You have a nightmare?”

Ivan shrugged. “I don’t know. The storm woke me up a few times so I just decided to get up after a while.”

“I used to get bad nightmares too, after my mom left. I… heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There was nothing anyone could’ve done. I should’ve been more careful-”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself, man. That kinda stuff’s out of anyone’s control. But, if you ever need to talk to anyone about it. I’m here.”

Ivan nodded. “That’s alright. Thanks.”

Kim joined the two shortly just as Ivan’s mom got up to make them breakfast. The three of them talked for a while, ate, and then left to finish getting ready. They hurried off to school on foot, arriving before anyone else.

“How do you manage to get here so early every day?” Kim asked.

“Just luck, I guess,” Joey shrugged.

Soon enough, the teachers started arriving. When Val walked up to campus, however, he wasn’t alone. Beside the vampire was a tall, dark-skinned boy with a school letterman and a big bushy tail. Val appeared to be… laughing?

“Val,” Kim ran up to him. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Hans,” the vampire introduced the taller boy as they approached Ivan and Joey. “I met him on my way home yesterday.”

“You mean when you were lost in the city,” Hans joked. He was taller than Joey by a good few inches, standing around at least six feet. The taller boy looked at the green-haired boy for a second and cocked his head. “Rohellec?”

“Hans?” Joey leaned forward.

“Valentine, is this the friend you helped move yesterday?”

“Yeah, why? You know him?”

Hans chuckled. “Yeah, I know him-”

“His sister’s dating Beverly,” Joey interrupted. “I used to go over to his place sometimes for dinner.”

Val pouted. “Can’t a guy enjoy a new friend for two seconds? Is that too much to ask in this town?”

“So, Hans,” Kim changed the subject. “If you don’t mind my asking, you’re a werewolf, yes?”

“Rougarou, actually,” the wolf nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“I just think it’s very intriguing that a vampire and a wolf are friends.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that-”

“Of course not; I mean this with no ill intent. I find it rather inspiring. I mean, if you were to look at the five of us you wouldn’t think we would get along. A witch, a vampire, a lycan, a snake, and… whatever Joey is- Joey, what exactly are you?”

“Oh,” Joey took his hat off and shook his hair out of his face, lifting his bangs. Beneath the thick green mess were four bright red eyes. “I’m a cat four.”

“Wait, a category four?”

“Yeah, I just said that. I’m not really big on talking about it though. Maybe later.” Joey dropped his hair and shoved his hat back on.

“That is one heck of a combo,” Hans said. “Like a bunch of ragtag misfits.”

The day passed by quickly, and nothing majorly interesting happened until study hall… again. When Ivan walked through the door, all the chairs had been rearranged and cramped. When Ivan looked toward the back of the room he noticed- Kim? What was Kim doing there? She beckoned Ivan over.

“What’s going on?” Ivan asked.

“Graves and Adders are doing a combined class project,” Kim whispered.

Graves quickly hushed the classroom. There was no one standing beside him; where was Adders?

“As most of you probably know by now,” Graves said. “Ms. Adders and I have decided to pair together for planning the end-of-the-year school party. To explain for some of you that are new this year, we like to celebrate finals season coming to a close with a giant dance. It’s like homecoming, but for spring state championships. This year, my class was chosen to plan the dance, however, being the second smallest study hall, Wilhelmina and I combined our classes.”

Kim smiled at Ivan.

“Adders will be joining us shortly, for any of you wondering. I’ll start without her for now. Keep in mind this is entirely for fun, but do not hesitate to give it your all. After all, this is the biggest pride of the school each year; decorations, music, games, and anything else you can think of should bring the most excitement to everyone on campus, not just the students.”

“This gives me a chance to perfect some of the spells I’ve been working on,” Kim whispered to Ivan. The door clicked open as someone else entered the room. The class went so quiet that not even a whisper could be heard. A tall, dark, deer-like creature dressed in 90s grunge-type clothing walked through the door and stood next to Graves.

“Don’t let me stop you,” she said. “You all act like you’re at a funeral, liven up.”

“Glad you could join us, Mina.”

“That’s Adders?” Ivan whispered.

Kim nodded. “Told you she was kinda freaky.”

“Now,” Adders clapped her hands together. “There are some tasks that will require you to work with a group, so choose whoever it is you work with best and Corvus and I will write it down on the list.”

[this bit was cut out] “Ivan,” Graves caught the boy before sending him off for lunch. “I understand that we make this seem like a huge deal, but you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. One good thing about having two smaller groups forming ironically the largest group of students this year is that there’s a little room for some slack. Plus, you and Kim came into the school so late in the year, you don’t even have to participate in the games. It’s only extra credit, so it’s no big deal.”

Ivan shrugged. “Kim might be upset by it, but that’s kind of a relief for me; I’m not too big on sports or parties.”

Graves smirked. “Neither was I back when I was in school, even though Adders and I were picked for party planning our sophomore year. You can still be there to pitch ideas with your friends if you want.”

“Thanks.” [back to what I kept in]

Ivan and Kim met up with Val, Joey, and Hans outside under the pavilion.

“So, you guys were picked for party planning, eh?” Val asked.

Ivan nodded. “Graves and Adders’ classes paired up this year.”

“Dang, lucky. I’m stuck in the games with Lilli this year.”

“Aw, seriously?” Joey grimaced. “I’m sorry, man. But, hey, at least you get to be in the games.”

“Who’s Lilli?” Ivan asked

“One of Val’s old friends from a few years ago-”

“We aren’t friends anymore, though,” Val cut Joey off, glaring at the boy. Joey put his hands up defensively. Ivan was confused but dropped the thought.

“So, Joey, Hans, you guys have study hall together?” Kim switched up the subject.

Hans nodded. “It’s kinda how we got to know each other after our sisters started dating.”

“That’s cool. So what are you guys doing after school? Joey’s coming home with us, but if we want to hang out it could give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

“That’s a good idea. My mom’s closing up at the café tonight, if you want to come with?”

Ivan lit up. “The café? That sounds great.”

“I can let my parents know I’m staying after school with my friends,” Val said. “They usually don’t pay much attention where I go anyway.”

“Both of my parents are working late at the clinic tonight, so we just have to let Ivan’s mom know there was a change in plans.”

“Wait, you all live together?”

“Yeah,” Joey snagged something from Val’s lunch, “it’s like becoming friends with college roommates you just met. You could put in a good word with the Yorks and see if we could get you in too.”

“The Yorks? As in the third richest family in all of Barebinx?”

“Right next to Val and me, yeah.”

“Shit, man. I meet one guy and suddenly I’m friends with the second-generation aristocrats.”

“And Ivan.”

“Right. And Ivan.” <shock from Ivan> “So, you guys are Californian, right? What’s it like?”

“You wouldn’t like it,” Ivan said. “A lot of entitled monster haters. It’s a pretty neutral state, but the majority of the population is against mutants. Other than that, it’s really sunny.”

“Ivan’s from California, I just lived there for a few years,” Kim said.

“Oh yeah? Where you from, then?”

“A pretty secluded cliffside town in Maine. It’s like a magic hotspot out there.”

“You guys all seem so cool, where the heck have I been all this time- under a rock?”

That made the others laugh.

“Alright, so meet out on the lawn after school?” Kim said.

“Yeah, we can walk to the café, it’s not far.”

[originally, that scene was supposed to take place during lunch, but I changed it to after school for the sake of episode length. However, I will add the original ending of the episode here like I said above]

The lunch bell rang. Kim and Ivan made their way to the gym, which, like the rest of the school, was insanely large; the field was practically like a stadium. There were some fairly peculiar students in the class, which was to be expected of this school. Still, it was hard for Ivan to get used to being around so many mutants. <put the goth unicorn in there for shits and giggles> Ivan didn’t recognize many of them from his other classes, but he didn’t pay much attention anyway <also the plant guy from his study hall>. Kim noticed some interesting faces as well <lillith, bugo, hattie>.

It was near the end of the semester as it was, so the class was in high gear. They were just starting the basketball unit, which Ivan never considered himself to be good at. Kim, on the other hand, easily took to any new activity. She was one of the first picks when they were chosen for teams, and Ivan was typically one of the last. If she could help it, Kim picked Ivan to be on her team every time, no matter how annoyed it made the rest of her team.

A strange, green-haired girl with large cat-like ears and black eyes from the other team kept staring at Ivan and Kim, whether it was out of curiosity or competitiveness. It started to make Ivan anxious. The girl was a natural when it came to speed, but tended to be a ball hog rather than passing it off to her teammates. Her team kept asking her what her deal was, but she never responded; she simply grinned widely with large, sharp teeth. She was very odd, whoever she was.

The rest of the day passed by in a flash. Ivan and Joey talked through most of photography. The class was let outside to capture images of nature they found intriguing; Ivan mostly took pictures of mushrooms and an occasional raven.

“You’re getting pretty good at that,” Joey said when looking through Ivan’s pictures.

“My dad liked taking pictures,” Ivan said. “He taught me how to use a camera when I was pretty young. It makes it feel like there’s still that part of him with me.”

When the bell rang, Ivan realized he’d left his homework in Graves’ room. The other four decided to tag along with him so he didn’t get distracted, which he likely would have. Val and Joey seemed a little uneasy.

Ivan opened the door. “Uh, Graves? Can I come in?”

“Sure, what do you need?” Graves was sitting on his desk, the mouse cage in his lap. Adders was standing beside him.

“Oh, I left my homework in here.”

“Is this it?” Graves held out a small stack of papers.

“Yeah, thanks. You kept the mouse?”

“I figured why not? Some of the faculty don’t like the idea of a wild mouse being housed in the building, but what do I care.”

“I told him he should name it after a Roman soldier,” Adders said.

“I still don’t know why you think that’s so funny.”

“Because it’s a mouse!”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you here. I might hold a class contest for whoever can come up with the most ironic name… I’ll see you tomorrow, Ivan.”

“See you. Thanks.”

The five left the room. Joey and Val seemed to be holding their breath, as they exhaled sharply once they left.

“I have never seen Graves actually have a nice conversation with a student before,” Joey hissed. “What kind of magic sorcerer are you?”

“Speak, Wiseman!” Val added.

The group laughed as they left the campus.

[ch 12 bonus comic]

“Cute kids,” Adders said to Graves. “It’s a wonder you’re putting up with them. What’s different this year?”

Graves glanced out the window as Ivan brought up the back of the group. Adders noticed.

“It’s that snake boy, isn’t it?”

“He reminds me of myself when we were in school.”

“Awkward and reclusive?”

“No- wait, hey. No. I meant- ah, never mind. I do worry for him, though. He’s no stranger to being picked on.”

“I guess he is like you.”

Graves scowled at Adders, who simply smiled. “I don’t know why I’m still friends with you.”

“... Bartholomouse?”

“Absolutely not.”

[it's a shame I wasn't able to have the whole episode in, but I'll try to fit those extra scenes I cut out in another episode later. If not, they're still here, just in spirit (and script)]

#snakeface comic #webtoon #webtoon canvas #webcomic creator #webcomic #script #snakeface script

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

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Let Me Show You - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader (smut)

Gif by @buckysbarnes

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a few months now, and the man has given you everything - literally. One night, Bucky encourages you to let go of your anxiety and let him show you just how sinful that mouth of his can truly be.

Warnings: 18+!!! Brief mention of drinking, Swearing, smut!!: Oral - f receiving, fingering, praise kink, arm kink, (Bucky kink?), unprotected PinV sex, fluff, encouragement

Word Count: 4k+ - I got carried away.

A/N: Aaahhhh, my first ever request from @kaylee-krystal I hope I did your idea justice and this is what you were hoping for. I added my own ideas for backstory and such, so I hope it’s okay 🙊thank you again, so, so much for requesting!!! I have reread this a couple times, but I’ve no doubt missed something somewhere, so apologies in advance.

Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood

James Buchanan Barnes.

Now there was a topic you could talk about day and night.

And probably even in your sleep.

You’d been dating for a few months now, and everyday was better than the last, even it did sound cliché.

You’d met in a local Brooklyn bar, having frequented it now and then with your friends for relaxed nights out or after work drinks.

The first time you’d seen the soldier, he’d been sitting at the bar alone, brooding over a beer.

It had taken you a few moments, but you’d suddenly realised who it was.

Bucky Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier, Avenger and now often seen with Sam Wilson.

THE Bucky Barnes was sitting in your local.

And instantly he had taken your breath away.

A set of cheekbones that could cut glass with a jawline to match. Plush lips that looked irresistibly soft - and sinful.

A tangle of dark hair that was begging to have a pair of hands run through to mess it up.

You could see the broad line of his shoulders from where you were situated in the booth, and you went home that night imagining everything else about him.

The next time you saw him, it was about a week later. You were waiting for your friend to arrive and had gone up the bar to get drinks ordered.

And there he was, just like the last time.

Only now, you saw that he had a pair of gorgeous eyes, a blue like the Arctic Ocean and just as deep.

And they were settled on your face with a cheeky little smile, which only grew when you looked at him.

Moments later, you were seated next to him, lost in conversation about whether the Hobbit was better than Lord of the Rings.

After laughing at one of his jokes, he’d asked you out on a date, instantly enamoured with the way your eyes lit up like the Brooklyn Bridge and you radiated goodness.

And the rest was history.

One date fell into two, and then three, and then just like that... you were dating.

Boyfriend and girlfriend.

Picnics in Prospect Park and afternoons at the Smithsonian.

Nights watching all the movies and tv shows he still needed to catch up on and mornings where you joined him on a run.

It was beautiful. Sure, you had a few tense moments where you might disagree, or he might have a bad day where memories crept up and he lashed out, but you never backed down. Never ran from him or looked the other way. And he did the same for you. Holding you when you needed him to but firmly expressing himself if you ever went too far.

It was healthy, enriching and you had both grown so much in just a few months.

Especially in the intimacy department.

You weren’t lacking knowledge or experience, not by any means but it was just... some things you were a little uncomfortable with.

It wasn’t that you had bad memories of the past or had been hurt, it was more a personal thing.

And you had explained some of these hang-ups to Bucky, who’d taken them all in his stride and been amazing about it.

When you were in these moments, he would ask if you wanted to try something and if you said no, he respected it and moved on. And if you said yes... well. Then you got a lesson in just how good he could make you feel.

Bucky had learnt your body in no time at all and... He was mindblowingly good. He knew exactly how to make you cry out his name like a plea, a prayer and a sin all in one.

It had gotten to the point where you’d drift off in the day, your mind taking you back to the way his lips mouthed over your skin, the way his fingers arched and curled inside your walls just right to reach that spot that hard you arching from the bed all the whole those baby blues were locked onto yours, watching you fall apart with an adoring fire blazing in the blue depths.

The man only had to give you that killer smile and you’d be instantly soaked.

He was going to be the death of you one day.

“Bucky!”

The sound of his name bounced around the walls of your bedroom, high and keening as the fingers of his vibranium hand stroked your inner walls with a relentless rhythm and pleasure.

“C’mon baby, that’s it..” he mumbled the sweet nothings against your chest, his mouth pressing kisses across your hot skin, over your collarbones and breasts.

His hair tickled your neck as your tipped your head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted in pleasure.

He was working you to your second orgasm of the night already.

The man had practically pounced on you when you walked through the door of your shared apartment and you were only too willing to drop everything - underwear included - and lose a few hours.

Your hips jerked against his hand, bucking in time with his fingers. The heel of his hand was pressed to your clit, applying delicious pressure with each pass of your hips as you chased down your release, feeling it coil tighter and tighter in the base of your spine.

You slid a hand up into his hair, knotting your fingers in the silky chocolate locks “Fuck-“

God, you were so close, so, so close-

Bucky already knew, and he scissored his fingers inside you, sucking at your nipple and triggering your orgasm, gently pushing you over that edge.

Pleasure tore through your body, making your blood sing and his name bounce through the room again. Every single orgasm he gave you made your body catch fire, and you felt it from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Through the haze, you heard his lust roughened voice, cooing those praises that only succeeded in making you come harder, “Good girl. Look at you... you look like a goddess. A fucking goddess that deserves to be worshiped every single day.” His hot breath fanned over your skin, “Make me want to do this all the time, give you everything, baby.”

He kept moving his fingers inside you, the noise filthy and almost forbidden as your slick coated his vibranium fingers. He moved and moved until you pushed lightly at his hand, the sensation almost too much.

Bucky met your eyes when they opened, and he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking at them and he moaned low at your taste, a wicked grin spreading around them when you groaned. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

Of your taste.

You let out a soft huff of a laugh, feeling your body hum still as you beheld the sight of your boyfriend sucking your juices off his fingers, all dark eyes and ruffled hair. “You will be the death of me one day, you know that right?”

His chuckle was husky and he kissed your neck gently, “Oh, I know. But you will too, so the feeling is definitely mutual, doll.”

His lips brushed over your belly button and a ripple of apprehension tickled down your spine and you struggled a little to focus on his words. “Every day since, you just blow me away. Everything you do. The way you’re so determined, the drive you have.” His kissed above your hip bone, tracing his tongue over the skin and he drew a little heart with his saliva, “You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel brave enough to make amends, to let go of my past and accept it.” His words were so heartfelt, so meaningful that they threatened to bring tears to your eyes.

But then his lips brushed lower, and you knew where this was going.

He had tried before, a couple of times now in the last few months and each time you’d stopped him.

And each time, he did so without hesitation and just moved on.

Your eyes snapped open, spine locking up, “Bucky.”

Instantly, he stopped. His head lifted as he heard the hesitancy in your voice, the apprehension, “What is it, baby? Are you okay?” His lust-blown eyes were wide, a frown between them as he looked over your face for the cause of you stopping him. He realised what he did and his face softened, “Shit, baby... I’m so sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Your heart was pounding through your chest and you were convinced he could hear it. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not you... I just... um..”

Oh, you wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky’s warm, broad hand rubbed soothingly over your thigh and he felt the tremble in your body, “Hey... relax. It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me... .”

You swallowed, shame tinting your cheeks and you stared at the ceiling light, too afraid to look at him. But he had shared so much with you... and you wanted to share this with him, “No one... no one has ever...” a cringe took over your features, “Gone down on me before.”

Silence.

Oh, god.

Your voice came out quiet, hesitant, “Bucky...?” Gathering your courage, you peered down at him.

He was staring at you, that frown still between his eyes as he looked over your face. He had his suspicions as to why you didn’t like it, but he was never sure. “Is it because... Have people refused to? Because if they have, they were not worth your time. You are beautiful, completely and utterly beautiful and deserve to have someone worship you like that.” there was a tone to his voice, like he would go and tear into anyone who refused to give you such pleasure.

Oh.

Shaking your head quickly, you sat up on your elbows, “No! No, it’s not that. They’ve asked to it’s just... me.”

It was true.

You had partners who asked to go down on you all the time but... something in you just couldn’t. You weren’t sure entirely why.

Whether it was the idea that someone would be so close... there.

What if you weren’t... pretty enough?

What if you didn’t taste good?

What if.... you did something wrong?

It had always been a bit of a hang-up, and even when your friends described how unbelievable good it felt... you just couldn’t do it.

Bucky’s eyes danced between your own, as if he could read all of this in your expression. He let go of your thigh, crawling up your body and he slide a hand around your jaw, his fingers resting behind your ear, “Baby... you have nothing to worry about. You are absolutely gorgeous, so, so beautiful. Every single thing you do, it blows my mind.” He stroke his thumb over your cheek, “You can walk to me in sweatpants and my hoodie and I’m struck dumb.”

You laughed a little despite yourself and he copied you, eyes lighting up when you did, “Having someone go down on you... it’s like the ultimate act of worshiping. You are in control. You tell me when to stop, pull me closer or push me away... On my knees for you, tasting you and taking you to that edge.” He cocked his head, “It’ll feel a little odd at first but when you’re used to it... Oh, doll, it’ll feel so good.”

His words filtered around you, moving through you.

You knew he was good at his craft, at reading your body. And you also knew he would never make you feel uncomfortable and he would always stop if you asked him to.

And god, there was a part of you that so desperately wanted to feel it, to feel someone’s tongue between your folds, moving inside you, between your thighs...

An image came to you, his dark locks nestled between your thighs, rumbling moans vibrating against you as you arched above him...

“Okay.”

He blinked, perhaps not having expected you to accept so quickly., “Are you sure? If you’re not-“

You swallows, lifting your hand to his on your cheek, “I... I want to. Show me. Show me how good it feels.”

Bucky looked deep into your eyes, checking for himself and when he seemed satisfied, he nodded gently. “Okay... Okay. If you feel uncomfortable, if it hurts or it’s too much, please tell me to stop. Use the safeword, hit the top of my head, kick me, anything. Okay?”

God, he just cared so much didn’t he.

Heart melting, you nodded again, a smile mixed of anticipation and a little bit of nervousness on your lips, “Okay. I promise.”

Sndjcidks djcocks djckc

The approach of your impending third orgasm was almost painful, the heat in your belly tightening impossibly, every single muscle in your body locking up and screaming for release.

Bucky was there, already reading it in your body and his free arm lifted from across your waist, reaching up and sliding through yours.

You tightened your fingers around his cool metal ones, your hips now free.

An instinct came over you, and you began to rock your hips against his face-

Heat and shame flushed your cheeks and you opened your mouth to apologise, to try and stop your hips from moving -

But then Bucky let out a rough moan that reverberated through your walls, through your clit and you realised - he liked it. He liked you fucking yourself on his tongue, smearing your slick over his chin and lips.

Holy fucking god.

You wanted this, you wanted this all the time, him all other time.

Bucky rubbed harder at your clit, running tight circles and his tongued slide over your folds and then speared inside you, like white hot fire. The tip of his tongue stroked that spot, that spot that he seemed to have a direct route to and then - you were falling apart.

Your orgasm barrelled down into you relentlessly, searing through your body and turning you to light and stars and something entirely ethereal.

It felt like every cell in your body exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that just didn’t end.

Bucky took it all, took every ride of your hips, every clench of your thighs around his head and he worked you through it, tongue lapping up your juices like a man starved as you came apart above him.

He didn’t let you go, holding you steady in the whirlpool of pure sensation as you ever so slowly came down back to Earth.

You panted softly, your eyes slowly opening to the familiar ceiling of your bedroom.

Fucking hell.

Fucking. Hell.

A stunned laugh escaped your lips and you unclenched your fingers from Bucky’s hair, rubbing over your face.

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, trailing up your body and then lightly pressing his lips to yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and it was intimate and a little filthy and god - you loved it. You loved him.

Kissing him back with equal fervour, you couldn’t stop grinning.

Bucky matched your wide smile, his body held up over yours and he brushed back your damp hair, “How do you feel?” Always looking out for you. He pulled away gently from your lips, trailing his mouth over your jaw.

You chuckled again, breathlessly, “I feel... amazing. Like my body is singing.” You shook your head just slightly in awe, “I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without that. You’re fucking good...”

You felt his shit-eating grin against your jaw, his teeth lightly nip your skin, “See... I told you. You deserve to be worshipped, baby. And I plan on doing it again and again, on my knees, under you, over you... like the goddess you are.” He brushed his lips over the shell of your ear, his voice a rough, husky whisper, “And I plan to carry on right now.”

The rest of the night fell away as he slipped back inside you effortlessly, and you climbed to the sky together again and again, and all you could think was... This was it.

You’d only been with him for a few months but in that time he had shown you more than anyone ever had. He had lovingly and carefully peeled back your layers and revealed such a shining light beneath, the light that had always been there and he had seen since that first meeting.

You wanted this forever, all the time. His love, his trust...

And his lips and tongue.

#my first ever request 🥺#oh god I hope this is okay #*nervously waits*#you just know I had to put the vibranium arm in there #look we all have an arm kink and that’s okay #we are nurturing not shaming #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Sebastian stan x reader

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Please Don't

Summary: Hotch and Y/N have been pining for each other but everything changes after they go undercover for a case.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence, angst

Word Count: 2289

a/n: Thank you for this request!! I love a good Hotch moment. I hope you like it!

Masterlist

"Alright ladies! Here's the first round." Emily smiled as she set the four glasses down in front of you all.

Girl's night had just started. It being Penelope's turn to pick the nights events meant you, Emily, and JJ were in for a long night of bar hopping.

"Yes!!!" Penelope nearly screamed, grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp. "First question of the night goes to Y/N."

Your eyes widened as everyone turned to look at you. Whatever game Penelope was trying to play was clearly not going to go well for you.

"Oh, God. What is it?" You grimaced, eyes flitting between the three of them.

"When are you going to do something about your crush on Hotch?" Emily wasted no time in getting into the hard hitting questions.

"And don't even bother denying it! It's so painfully obvious." JJ added on, eyeing you skeptically.

"First of all, rude. Second of all, fine. I have a hopeless crush on our boss. Are you happy now?" You playfully glared, knowing there was no use in even trying to pretend.

"So? When are you going to do something about it?" Penelope was giddy, always one to celebrate new relationships.

"Uh, never." You deadpanned.

"Why not?" She whined in response.

"Pen, he's my boss for one. Plus it's highly unlikely he feels the same. I mean, how would I even bring that up?" You shook your head, trying to avoid the conversation.

"Y/N, Hotch is totally into you-" Emily's rant was cut off by the sounds of all of your phones buzzing.

You all shared a glance before confirming your suspicions.

"Another girl's night cut short." You shook your head. "Who needs a ride?"

The four of you quickly made your way out of the bar before piling into your car and heading to the Bureau.

"Damn ladies, looking good." Derek greeted you when you piled into the elevator together.

You hadn't thought about changing before coming in. None of you were wearing anything wildly inappropriate. Your outfit was just a bit more form fitting than a typical day in the field required.

"Thanks Derek." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the elevator and immediately heading for the conference room.

Aaron's eyes were on you almost instantly. He always looked for you first when a new case came in.

"You ever gonna tell her?" Rossi asked from next to him.

"I have no idea what your talking about." Hotch kept his face neutral despite knowing there was no real point in denying it to Dave.

"I see the way you look at her. You know, I see the way she looks at you too. you deserve to be happy, Aaron." He replied easily, a smirk on his face as he took a seat in the conference room.

Hotch merely shook his head, trying to supress the smile forming at the idea of you returning his feelings.

He quickly moved on to debrief the team ultimately telling everyone to meet at the jet.

Three days later, another couple was dead, and you were no closer to catching the guy.

"Wait, there's a new pattern." Reid jumped up, pointing out the abduction sites on the map. "He's moving south, alternating between 11th and 14th Street. Each abduction happened at a different club on those streets. If he follows pattern the next abduction will be tonight at Cameo." He pointed out the next club on the map.

"So we'll stakeout the club, stop him before he gets another couple." Morgan suggested.

"We can't risk a takedown inside the club." Hotch ran a hand over his face.

"What if two of us go undercover? Pretend to be a couple and then we can stop him when he tries to abduct us." You suggested a new plan.

"That could work." Dave added on, sending you a nod. "You and Hotch fit his victimology."

"What d'ya say, Hotch?" Your heart was beating rapidly, but you refused to let it show. "Wanna go on a date?" You playfully nudged his side.

"It's our best plan." He nodded resolutely. "Go with Emily to get something to wear."

You smiled at him before turning to see a mischievous look on Emily's face. She whispered in your ear as you walked out of the room.

"Get ready. Hotch won't be able to keep his eyes off you tonight."

"Are you sure I should wear this?" You pulled the dress down a bit, trying to cover more of your thighs.

"Yes. You look amazing, and this is definitely going to catch the eye of our unsub." JJ complimented as she added a few finishing touches to your hair.

"It's just now dawning on me why we don't do undercover work." You flinched away from Emily as she attempted to add a third layer of mascara.

"Oh, hush. This was your idea. Everything will be fine. Better than fine if you're lucky." She winked, capping the mascara and throwing it back into your makeup bag.

"Em, this is work. I'm absolutely not making a move on Hotch while trying to lure an unsub to abduct us." You deadpanned.

"I'm not saying make a move! This is your opportunity to flirt a little and see how he responds." She shrugged casually.

You were about to provide another rebuttal when a knock sounded on the door to the bathroom.

"Y/N, you almost ready?" Derek called from the other side of the door.

"Coming out now!" You nearly ran out before Emily or JJ could try to convince you to flirt with Hotch again.

"Damn, L/N." Derek smiled when you exited the bathroom. "Looking good. You know who else might think so?"

"Can it, Derek. I'm in no mood." You swiftly walked past him. You could hear Hotch arguing with Rossi about something as you walked up to the conference room door.

"Dave, cool it will you?" Hotch rolled his eyes, not noticing you yet.

"I'm just saying Aaron-" He tried again.

"Well, don't." Hotch's playfulness rarely came out on cases, but you could see a glimpse of it in the way he bantered with Dave.

"Ready to go?" You asked from the doorway, putting your comm's device in your ear. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at the way Aaron looked at you.

"Ready." He gave you a tight smile, diverting his eyes from your tight dress.

"We'll be right outside. All the exits covered." Dave reminded the two of you, nodding as you walked out the door.

"Here you go, one vodka cranberry." He winked when he passed the glass over, a subtle reminder about the lack of alcohol coursing through you.

"Thanks." You shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. You'd been by the bar for about an hour, and nobody suspicious had caught your eye.

"Do you want to dance?" You surprised yourself by asking the question, watching as Hotch's eyes widened slightly. "I just, the other couples? Didn't witnesses say they were dancing?" You whispered the last part, obviously trying to limit anyone overhearing your conversation.

"Right. Of course." He looked nervous, but you chalked it up to not doing undercover often.

You lead him to the middle of the dance floor, trying to find the best view of the doors. It took a few minutes of awkward swaying, but the two of you found your rhythm.

"Behind you, there's a man watching us." Hotch whispered in your ear sending a shiver through your spine.

You nodded slightly in response before turning around. You pressed your back to his chest to cover the movement, eyes flitting around the room to observe anyone suspicious.

It didn't take long for you to spot the man Hotch was talking about. You moved your arms up around his neck, pulling his head closer to you so you could whisper to him.

"Got him. How do we get him outside?" You suppressed the urge to grind your hips against Hotch's. It was hard enough to deal with the feeling of his hands on your hips.

He spun you around, pressing your chests close together. Again, he moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, "we just need to give him a show."

He pressed his lips to yours lightly, waiting for your response. You kissed him back with passion, relishing in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

Your breath caught in your throat when he pressed a series of light kisses to your neck. You involuntarily tilted your head to the side, giving him more room to work.

"I think we've got his attention. Let's head out the back door." Hotch grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him toward the back of the club.

The cool night air sent a chill through your body, but you didn't have long before the man burst through the door behind you.

Hotch easily overpowered him, knocking the gun from his hands. He pulled handcuffs from his pocket, quickly securing his hands behind his back.

"Morgan, we got him out back." You spoke into your comms, turning slightly when movement in the shadows caught your eye.

"Y/N, get down!" Hotch jumped in front of you just as you heard a gun being fired. He fell into you, slumping against your body. Everything happened so quickly.

"FBI, drop your weapon!" Morgan yelled, running closer to the man in the shadows.

He quickly handcuffed the partner, leading him to a waiting officer while Emily collected the other unsub.

"Aaron?" You looked at him in your arms noticing the blood soaking through his light blue shirt. "I need a medic!" You called down the alley, watching in terror as two medics removed Aaron from your arms.

You were frozen in place as they put him on a gurney and pushed him into a waiting ambulance.

It wasn't until the ambulance was completely out of sight that you realized Reid was talking to you.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He gestured to the blood on your dress and hands.

You nodded silently, pointing to where the ambulance just was.

"Let's get you to the hospital okay?" He spoke softly, not wanting to add to your distress. He grabbed a shock blanket from a paramedic before leading you to an SUV. Derek and Emily sat in the front, ready to drive as soon as you got in.

You don't remember the ride to the hospital. You don't remember JJ helping you wash the blood from your hands. You don't remember a nurse updating you on Hotch's surgery. You don't remember anything except the look in Aaron's eyes as he bled out in your arms.

"Aaron Hotchner?" The doctor called out into the waiting room. All six of you stood up, eyes fixed on the woman in scrubs. "His surgery was successful. I can take one of you to see him."

The whole team gestured to you, knowing how you felt and how much you needed to see that he was okay.

"Follow me." The doctor lead you down the winding hallways to a recovery room where Aaron was asleep. "He's still under anesthesia for now. It should wear off in a few hours."

You nodded as she left, still unable to form any words as you took in his pale appearance.

"Aaron." You whispered his name, eyes brimming with tears. You pulled the chair as close as you could next to his bed, both hands wrapped around one of his.

You must've fallen asleep because before you knew it, the hand in your grasp was squeezing you back.

"Aaron?" You lifted your head from the side of his bed, eyes focusing on his. "Oh, thank God." You felt the tears brimming again.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay." He murmured softly, moving his free hand to wipe your tears.

"No. You're an idiot who jumped in front of a bullet for me." You whispered back, voice breaking.

"I'd do it again." He took no time to craft his response, only causing more tears to fall down your cheeks.

"Aaron-"

"Y/N, I don't have anyone else in my life quite like you. I haven't in a long time." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. "You make me feel like I could be happy again. Like Jack could have two people to provide him unconditional love everyday in his life again. Like maybe, just maybe, I could love someone again. I would jump in front of countless bullets for you because I can't imagine my life without you in it."

"Please don't." You whispered, eyes still watery.

"What?" Hotch could feel his heart breaking at the thought of you not returning his affection.

"Please don't jump in front of anymore bullets for me. I don't think I could survive this feeling again." You took a deep, shuddering breath. "Watching them wheel you away on that gurney... it felt like my heart was being cut open. Aaron, there's not a day that goes by where you don't make me smile. Even if it's just the thought of you. I can't imagine my life without you either."

He continued to wipe tears from your face as you spoke.

"Would now be a good time to ask you out to dinner?" He smiled when you laughed.

"I think now is a great time for that." You smiled, leaning your head into his hand.

"Perfect. So, will you get dinner with me?" He nearly whispered.

"I'd love to." You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before setting back against your chair.

It didn't take long for him to fall back asleep. This time, when you leaned your head against his leg, your heart felt full.

Permanent taglist:

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@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch one shot #aaron hotchner angst #hotch angst

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softykooky · 4 years

Text

sanctuary: seven

summary: the absence of you is a void that they never thought they’d have to experience again. they were fine before they met you. but the sky would fall before the boys would be fine after you’ve gone. 8.03k words.

genre: mafia au, ANGST, poly au

pairing: ot7 x reader

warnings (READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION) : toxic and dysfunctional familial relationships, mentions of domestic abuse (physical and verbal), swearing, ptsd & trauma, poor mental health, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, eating problems, alcohol abuse, abandonment issues...

rating: NC17

author’s note: okay I lied there’s going to be another part! I just couldn’t fit all that I wanted and I figured it was better to give you guys something now instead of making you wait another century for me to wrap up the story. please let me know if I forgot anyone in the taglist! please let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!

♡ series masterpost ♡

Just leave.

Like a cruel rhythm or a drum that keeps on beating in your chest to remind you of the pain that rips through your heart.

You’re such a fool, Y/N.

Should you blame them for growing tired of you? Even snapping at you like they did, or did you deserve it? It was so easy for you to wither back into the mindset your father had trained you to adapt at the slightest intrusion. Now, after that massacre in the kitchen with the people you trusted with your whole being, you weren’t sure if it was possible to think otherwise.

Through the warm tears that have clouded your eyes, frantically stuffing the little belongings you have into a backpack is otherworldly difficult. Your heart hurts. Your soul hurts. Your entire being hurts and you can only wonder how many times a person can be pushed aside and unwanted until they just completely break. You wonder how close you are to that point.

There’s anger running through your veins, cocktailed with devastation and confusion, but you’re not sure what it is you’re angry at. Were you angry at them? Could you ever be angry at them, even after they did something like this? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore, but that wasn’t important.

There was one objective in sight: pack up and get the hell out before you let anyone else completely destroy you.

But even then, you can’t help but to think about how they hadn’t even bothered to come after you. None of them did. And it ignites a different fire of pain that you’re finding harder to ignore. You’re halfway through shoving your shirts into the backpack when a soft voice sounds from your doorway. Jun is standing there, fiddling with her apron and warm sympathy on her face.

“Y/N, sweetie, they’re just...maybe give them some time. Please don’t go”, Jun sighs.

“No, Jun. They don’t want me here anymore”, your voice cracks at the realization. “I’m not going to stay and be unwanted. I won’t do it again. I-I can’t.”

When the last item is tucked into the pocket of your bag, you swing it onto your shoulder. The weight of the backpack feels as though it’s pulling you deeper into the ground. Like you are sinking and there is nothing you can do but wait until your head is submerged.

“Jun…” you breathe out, wiping away a warm stray tear, “could you...could you tell them that I’m sorry? I-I’m not sure what for, I guess for everything. But could you just tell them?”

Jun nods solemnly, though the reluctance is clear on her expression. Even she can recognize that you have nothing to apologize for. “I will, honey. Are you sure about this?”

“I have no choice, Jun. I love them and I-” you cut yourself off.

This is the first time you’ve been able to say it out loud. You love them. You’ve fallen in love with them and the timing could not be worse. But all in all, you consider yourself lucky. There was no way you would have recovered if you confessed and all seven of them inevitably rejected it. Perhaps this fight just saved you the great pain of knowing they cannot love you back.

“And I need to go.”

You’d have to leave before dinner. Through the back door. The one that no one thinks you know about but as always, no man gives you nearly enough credit as you deserve. You’ll tell the guards you’re going out for a walk and pray they don’t question the overstuffed backpack you’re hauling. You’ll just open it and run and…

Find a new home? A new life? Find a new set of souls that will cherish and care for you and make you feel like you’re actually meant to be in this world?

You love them. That much you know is true. And perhaps people like you weren’t meant to have love in this world.

“You’re excused, Lee. Be grateful you’re still here.” The venom in Namjoon’s voice remains clear as day, even after your ungraceful departure from the kitchen. You had left so abruptly with so few words that they weren’t able to even try and stop you.

They still can’t see straight through the searing anger that pulses through their entire being. Anger at the world, and the traitors, and the idiotic rookie that lost them thousands in shipments.

But the anger at you had faded a long time ago, the moment you bolted out of the kitchen and up the stairs. However, the boys were nothing if not stubborn. Why did you have to get in the way of their business? Why couldn’t you just remain kept away, for them to keep safe and away from the dangers of the outside world?

Jimin is the first one to make a move to the staircase, up to where you were packing, trying to be stealthy until the leader catches a glance of him.

“Jimin. Stop. Just let her cool off”, Namjoon sighs, pinching the space between his eyebrows to relieve his tension headache. He was usually the sensible one. The leader of the pack telling everyone to keep their cool. But the load on his shoulders has been getting far too heavy and you were the light breeze that caused it to collapse.

“You should wait to calm down before you talk to her, anyway. That vein in your forehead might pop out of your skin”, Hoseok snidely remarks.

Jimin scoffs, running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that day.

“Everything we’ve been doing has been for her best interest. Why is she making this so difficult?”, he exhales, frustration still licking at every word. But with a mere glance at Jimin, anyone in the room could tell that he truly held no antipathy towards you. That his words were coming from an unresolved pool of anger that had been bubbling away for ages.

“You don’t think she means it, do you?”, Taehyung mutters, eyebrows still creased in intensity. “The leaving part?”

“Where could she go Taehyung? We’re all she has at this point”, Yoongi speaks. A layer of irony coats the room as Yoongi remembers the words he had spat at you in the heat of the moment. A vicious declaration to tell you to leave, and he feels a string of guilt twining itself around his lungs. He numbs it away, of course. As he does everything else.

Jin takes a deep breath. “Listen, we’re all stressed and sleep-deprived. Why don’t we just calm down separately and talk it over at dinner? I’m sure by then, this whole thing will be completely forgotten.” His words sound sure and steady. Jin hopes they don’t notice the worry that bleeds into his voice.

A chorus of agreements and hums quietly sound across the room as the seven of them shuffle out of the kitchen and slowly saunter into their respective rooms. And as they tiptoe past your bedroom, where your door was shut tight, the boys can’t help but feel the rationality that has begun to trickle back in. The logic and reason that had abandoned them during the fight had slowly returned, and the thought of you on the other side of that door made them all want to barge in and hold you again.

Maybe they overreacted. Maybe they were wrong. Pride, however, was a stern mistress, and the potential consequences of their actions hadn’t yet reached their thoughts. They hadn’t realized the poison of their words.

They would wait a bit longer.

Everything would be okay after dinner.

The first thing you realize after leaving is that you chose the wrong pair of shoes to attempt an escape on foot. Of course, you had to be wearing the new ones that the boys just bought you that hadn’t been broken in yet. The heel was digging into your skin painfully, undoubtedly leaving red marks and calluses. Your feet ached with every step, but you had to soldier on. At least until you found somewhere to rest for a bit and figure out where the hell you would go.

A glance down at your phone has you eternally grateful for your past self for remembering to charge it. Hopefully it would last you until you found somewhere for the time being.

There was no more family in the country besides your immediate ones. And you’d rather swallow knives than go back to that. The thought of them makes you sad though when you remember Soyeon.

You wonder how she’s doing. The things she’s been up to. Is she shopping as much as she always does? Is she happy? Does she miss you? The train of thought makes you scoff at your own patheticism. Even after everything, you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate her. You would always love your sister.

The Bangtan manor hadn’t been as far away from the city as you had thought. On the other hand, you weren’t exactly paying attention to the time. Just let your feet carry you where they wanted to and stared blankly at the passing ground, trying to empty your thoughts as best you could. The sky was beginning to darken and the wind blew a bit colder but you refused to let it slow your pace. You couldn’t let yourself feel. Not yet, anyway.

The first motel you see is the one you enter. It’s not grand by any means; more of a fixer-upper. The wallpaper was peeling, the carpet reeked of age and dust, and the receptionist was chewing gum and scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. The place was a dump compared to what the likes of you tended to live in. But you had limited cash, and this would have to do.

It takes you three times clearing your throat for her to notice that a customer was at the front desk.

“Hello. I’d like a room with one bed, please.”

She doesn’t hide her blatant scrutinization of you, visibly looking you up and down with something akin to disapproval. Her phone is tossed on the counter annoyedly and she snaps her gum, wheeling her chair closer to the computer and clacks away on the keyboard.

“ID and payment, please”, she drones, holding out a hand without sparing you another glance. When she looks at the card you have placed in her palm, there is a spark of recognition. The Yoo family name. She must have seen your name in the paper or something. The ambassador’s daughter. In a place like this?

You are eternally grateful when the receptionist says nothing; just hands you back your card and dangles a key from her red-nail polished index finger. You two exchange no more words. The only sounds in the lobby are the clinking of the metal key, the padding of your footsteps on soft carpet, and the smacking of the bubblegum between her lips. But it is enough to begin to allow the loneliness in. The fear of it all. The uncertainty and utter devastation that you have left behind the one place that had just started to feel like home.

When the door of your motel room closes, and it is just you...

You with the clothes on your back, the necessities in your bag, and all the feelings you have kept bottled up for weeks on end. It is more than easy to collapse in a cathartic heap as soon as the lock clicks in place.

Who cares if the walls are paper-thin? You scream it out on the undoubtedly dirty floors. The agony of being so close to happiness only to have it ripped away from your hands. The pain of knowing them, only for them to push you out of their lives.

You don’t weep for anyone else. Not the seven boys you loved, not Soyeon, not your father, not Jun.

You cry for Y/N.

You cry for the realization that maybe the thing you’ve been chasing your entire life is simply not in reach. That peace was something you had to fight for, completely alone. That they don’t love you back, or even nearly as much as you loved them. If they did, you wouldn’t be here, desperately trying to hold yourself together for what seems like the billionth time. If they loved you back, well...you reckon that reality only exists in your surreal dreams.

There were distant cousins. In the states. And if you could get a hold of them, you had faith they would be willing to fly you over. You could spin an excuse at the drop of a hat. Maybe something about wanting to see America for a while and get away from your normal routine in Seoul. Something about needing space or enjoying time with missed relatives. They’d believe it. You’ll leave as soon as you can, hopefully in the morning.

Naturally, this night is sleepless and you swear the sky is darker than usual. It’s starless, and even the moon is nowhere to be seen, hidden behind overcast clouds and you want to cry even more. Because after everything, is it still too much to let you feel the light? Is it still too much to let you rest under a gentle nightscape?

You make a promise to yourself. To Y/N.

You wouldn’t let her chase after pipe dream happiness anymore. You wouldn’t let her be so naive, so hopeful for something better. You’ve had your chance at finding it, and after more bumps and bruises, have come to the conclusion that maybe it merely does not exist for you.

You promise her a lifetime of loneliness and solitude. But those are familiar things. Comfortable things. And you would take that over a broken heart any day.

As soon as they fell onto their respective beds, all seven of them had drifted off to sleep. It seemed that days of constant work, chugging black coffee, and pulling consecutive all-nighters had taken its toll, and the boys finally caught up to the pure, unadulterated exhaustion.

The seven of them slept through the night, plans of dinner completely forgotten as they glued themselves to the comfortable bedding. Unfortunately, with needed rest came a clear mind and the realization that they had been completely and utterly horrible to you ever since it all went down.

Jungkook is the first to wake up. He brushes his teeth and slips on an outfit with a rapid fervor, ready to put everything behind him and just...hold you. Because he realizes it’s been weeks since he actually has, and maybe that’s just the thing he’s been needing. To feel your frame in his arms and hear your soft breathing.

“Taehyung! Get up!” Jungkook pounds on the door of his hyung’s room. He hears shuffling from the other side, and a rustled bedhead emerges from a dark cavern.

“What Jungkook? It’s too early for this”, he grumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hyung we all slept like the dead through dinner. I’d rather not let this whole thing with Y/N marinate for any longer. Get up and let’s talk it through, I know you miss her like crazy too.” Jungkook does his best to keep his voice down since you were still sleeping in the room beside Taehyung’s. He has to round up all of them first before asking you to come out.

So he does. Sweeps his floor and the one above to awaken the other six men. Jin and Namjoon were the only others who were dressed and ready to tackle the day. The rest of them moved like zombies to rid themselves of the sleepy fatigue.

Somehow, they all manage to congregate in front of your door, nervously staring it down while the tension in the air choked them. It’s unnerving. The radio silence coming from your room. You must be really upset, and reasonably so. Hoseok clears his throat, twisting his hands together out of nerves, and glances at the others.

“Well? Should I knock?”, he whispers. The other six nod solemnly, glaring at the door like it might combust at any moment.

He steps forward gingerly and raps on your bedroom door thrice. The seconds trickle by like molasses, even slower when there is no sound from your end.

He knocks again.

Nothing.

A third time.

Complete and utter silence.

“Y/N?”

Hoseok’s eyebrows deeply furrow, and with trepidation, he twists the doorknob and swings it open. The bedsheets are made, duvet untouched and pillows stacked neatly against the headboard. The curtains are drawn and everything looks fairly clean. Almost as if there was no one in there in the first place. Now that he looks closer, the only sign of you being there was the vase of brown and wilting peonies on the bedside table. The ones they had gotten for you months ago. Even your scarce amount of belongings were nowhere to be found.

In the ache of the silence, nothing can be heard but their utter shock. Their minds jumping to the worst conclusion but still in denial because there’s no way that you would do that. No way they could have lost you when they all loved you so much.

“M-maybe she’s in the basement. Or the library. I’m sure she didn’t….she hasn’t….”, Jimin cuts himself off as he drifts off into all the terrible possibilities. Namjoon yells at the guards downstairs from the second floor, and the sounds of their rushed footsteps to find you in this giant house is the only noise that reaches their ears.

“Jun!” Taehyung hollers down below, where she is undoubtedly fussing away in the kitchen or slaving over a boiling pot. The woman calmly emerges upstairs with a sharp gaze, head held high and shoulders stiff in her posture. There is no emotion on her face, except the faint disappointment as she stands in front of the seven men.

“Where is she?”, Yoongi growls, stepping forward like a huffing beast, but Jun remains unbothered.

“Where is who?” Jun monotones.

“Don’t play dumb, Jun. Where is Y/N?” She scoffs at the concern dripping in Yoongi’s voice. How ironic that the very person who maliciously told you to leave was now in pieces at your absence.

“I was surprised you even noticed. It’s not something you’ve been doing as of late. Noticing”, Jun calmly retorts. She’s never been one to be afraid of them. Never scared to stand up to them, because though they were grown men, they often still needed some mothering.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Jungkook spits, frustratedly gripping at his hair.

“Is it not true, boys? Y/N’s been practically invisible to you these past few weeks. Who knew it would take a mere fight to finally get you guys to pay attention to her.” Jin’s reflex is to immediately respond with an argument. But the words die on his tongue when he realizes the truth in Jun’s statement.

The seven of them stare at her in silence, still high-strung on stress and anger, but intent to listen to her words.

“She left.”

The two words that they had been so desperate not to hear sound like a death knell when they fall from Jun’s lips. Their blood runs cold, and the temperature in the house drops to subzero. A moment frozen in time and all they can do is be forced to come to terms with their actions . The room immediately explodes into desperate questions and exclamations to their head housekeeper.

“Where is she? Did she say where she’s going”, Hoseok tearily yells.

“Did she leave a note?” Jungkook chews on his lower lip until it bleeds.

“When did she leave? She couldn’t have gotten far.” Jimin grabs Jun by the shoulders, forcing her closer as if he could look in her eyes and pretend she was lying.

“Excuse me if I am speaking out of turn, Sir”, Jun clears her throat, “but what did you think was going to happen?”

The seven of them are stunned into silence, swimming in utter confusion and worry about where in the world you could be. If you were in danger at all.

“She’s been left by herself for weeks. In this big, cold house while you all were wrapped up in your business. Tried talking to you so many times, but you all pushed her away.” Jun sighs disappointedly.

Her words ring with truth, and perhaps that is the most painful part about it all. The boys can’t do anything but stand there and listen. You were dear to Jun, and she wouldn’t let the fear of standing up to her intimidating bosses keep her from saying the things you didn’t have the courage to.

“Y/N, she...she’s been struggling. Did she tell you that? Wouldn’t sleep for days, so I sometimes snuck melatonin into her afternoon tea. But still, she’d come out of that bedroom with dark circles that almost looked painful. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her toss and turn all night, Taehyung.” Jun spares him a glance. Not malicious or accusing. Just genuine curiosity and it makes Taehyung want to burrow himself into the ground.

Namjoon’s heart drops as Jun continues speaking. How could they have been so oblivious to everything? So out of touch and wrapped up in other priorities that they seemed to completely forget about you? Arguably the most important person in their life.

“Sometimes, she even refused to eat. Couldn’t even stomach a cup of soup, and she’s gotten so thin, I had to tailor all her clothes.”

Jin’s eyes widen at the statement, his throat in knots and the sinking feeling in his gut only magnifying. Like ice water to warm skin. That’s how Jun’s words felt to their system. Like they had been so blind this entire time, so distracted by everything else that they forgot someone who had become one of the most important people to them.

“Forgive me for speaking my truth, sir. But I’ve never quite felt such disappointment when I heard the things you said to Y/N yesterday. A-And I don’t condone her decision to leave. But can you blame her?” Jun sighs, exasperated as her worry for you seeps into her consciousness.

Jimin pushes away the tears that have clouded his eyes, looking down at the marble floors so that no one sees the gloss that wasn’t there before Jun started speaking. He pretends not to notice the way Jungkook’s tremulous and shaky breathing, or the way Yoongi’s fisted hands have turned completely white from the tension. All he can think about...all they can think about...is you.

Hoseok coughs, clearing his throat and steeling his voice to not show emotion. “Did she tell you where she was going?”

Jun shakes her head solemnly, twisting her apron in her hands. The boys begin to make their way downstairs, tension in the air thicker than ever and only one priority clear in their minds.

“However…”, Jun’s small voice stops them in their concentrated footsteps. “While she was packing, she told me to say one thing to you all.”

It’s expectant. They almost don’t want to hear it at all. Hearing it would affirm that they are completely undeserving of you. That you are an angel among beasts whose love language is to destroy and wreck. That maybe leaving them would be the best thing to happen to you.

“She told me to tell you she’s sorry. For everything.”

Everything is what you deserved. Everything is what they would do to prove that to you.

Korea from the view of your aunt’s private jet was a bittersweet revelation. It was beautiful. So achingly and hauntingly beautiful with the ghosts of your past and the shattered promises for the future. If you squint, you could still make out remnants of the Han River. Traces of a place that seemed to cry for you as you left for the states.

You didn’t want to be truthful to yourself. You didn’t want to admit that you wouldn’t miss Korea because of the people or the landscape or the weather. You’d miss it because they were there. That home had been so close you could nearly taste it.

The trip was a chaotic blur. You faded in and out of sleep, in a hypnotic trance that proved to be your body’s self-defense mechanism to repress every emotion you had felt since you left. Stewardesses offering you flutes of champagne, drivers loading and unloading your luggage, the words of everyone around you flowing in and out like a stream of water that you ignored.

“I trust everything is to your satisfaction, Y/N? Really, you must come visit more often. Your uncle and I have missed you terribly.”

Your aunt had always been a kind woman. She was from your mother’s side, and like everyone else, so oblivious to the true nature of the Yoo family. How sinister things truly were behind those closed, gold-plated doors. Their house was grand, large enough so that you could make yourself scarce and wouldn’t be a disturbance. Though you couldn’t help but to notice the lack of boyish voices drifting down the hall, or the rhythm of Taehyung’s hands on the keyboard in the room next to you.

You offer a kind smile to the butler, who gently sets your singular backpack on the plush bed that screamed out your name.

“Thank you so much for everything, Aunt Kim. I promise I’ll transfer over the money for the plane fees and carry my weight around here for the time being.”

Your words make you nearly wince with the uncertainty of your wobbly plans. Where would you even get the money? Ask your father? Ask them?

“I....I promise to be out of your hair as quickly as I can”, you shakily breathe, failing to convince yourself. Yet your aunt only holds a kind smile and a warm gaze.

“Stay as long as you want, dear. It’s the least we could do to repay everything your family has done for us over the years. Especially your father.”

You know you cannot blame her oblivion. Not when it is such a well-guarded secret. Yet her words douse kerosene to the fire in your chest. Tugs at the stitches of the subconscious wounds you have yet to heal. It makes you remember them. Your boys. How they would burn at hearing such words, grit their teeths and spit poison at anyone who held your father’s name in a high regard.

Or would they? After everything, you’re not so sure anymore. Painful or not, it makes you miss them even more.

So you smile. Bite your tongue, hold your fists at your side, and thank her again for the kindness she has shown you when you had nowhere else to run. America felt different. The air itself seemed like a culture shock. Being the ambassador’s daughter had prepared you for fluency in English and how to carry yourself diplomatically, but the journey ahead was bound to be rough.

For the first time in your life, you would be the only one you had to care for. Not Soyeon, not your mother, not Bangtan. You’d have to do this by yourself, now, and though all the emotions you have locked away will inevitably return to confront you, this sanctuary for now would have to be enough.

You were surprisingly more difficult to find than the boys had expected. Traveling alone with no clunky belongings meant you were able to move more quickly than they had anticipated and the motel you stayed at was paid for in all cash. However, nothing in the city could really happen under Bangtan’s watch, and here you were. Video footage displayed on the screen of their basement office, and they can only feel heartache as they watch you through the screen.

“She checked out in the morning. Got picked up by a gray SUV and taken to the airport.” Taehyung drones, eyes still glued to the screen. Like looking at your pixelated face would bring you closer to him somehow. He missed you. They all did.

“The plane’s not registered with any public company, so I’m guessing it’s a private one belonging to her family.” Taehyung adds on, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the table. The air was tense with frustration. Anger at themselves and at each other for letting his happen. For making you run away.

“Any idea where it’s going?” Yoongi quietly murmurs from the end of the long table.

“America.”

America. You felt so discouraged and hurt by them that you had to go all the way to America. They did this. This is their fault.

“So? What are we waiting for? Tell the guards to prep the jet to America. We’ll bring her back”, Jimin gawks at Namjoon, who nurses a glass of scotch like it’s his lifeline. The room falls silent awaiting their leader’s course of action, but the six of them are left speechless when Namjoon himself starts laughing. The kind of laugh that sends chills down their spines. So raucous yet emotionless. So full of hidden pain. Namjoon tips the rest of the glass down his throat, looking at them all with a hopeless expression.

“What makes you think she wants to see us? After what we put her through? Hell, I’d be surprised if she lets us within a 10 foot radius.” Namjoon’s words are cruel, but they can’t help but to believe it to be true.

“N-No. She’ll understand that we were stressed. I-If we just explain everything, I’m sure she’ll-”

“Don’t you remember what happened in the kitchen? What Jun said? She’s been withering away for weeks, Jimin, and none of us gave enough of a fuck to notice. We made her feel invisible.” Namjoon chuckles, but there is only pain in his tone. One that he drowns out with another swig of top-shelf whiskey.

“We can fix it. We can go to America and fix it”, Hoseok stares down the leader, insistent on making efforts.

“No we can’t Hoseok”, Jin’s brows furrow, eyes lighting with fire, “Jun said she didn’t sleep. She didn’t eat. I wouldn’t take us back either.”

The boys know better than to take it personally. They were all heartbroken in the wake of your leaving, so desperate to get to you yet ashamed of themselves, apprehensive of if they even have the right to chase after you.

Jungkook leaps up from his seat, chest huffing and hands raking violently through his hair. He paces back and forth, eyes swimming in hurt and frustration until it all seemed to combust through his body, flinging his office chair to the side to find any form of catharsis.

He spares a poisoned glance over to Yoongi’s direction, who still sits with his eyes glued to the floor, as if ashamed of his mere existence.

“You.” The malice in Jungkook’s voice is crystal clear.Yoongi’s shirt collar is acquaintanced with Jungkook’s fisted hand, and he grips onto the older man like a viper to its prey. As if blunt force could make you come back. The other five boys could only watch.

“You did this. You told her to leave. Now she’s gone. I loved her, Yoongi.” Though Jungkook’s words are pumped with antipathy, the sheer devastation is heard most through it all. Yoongi doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t even make a move to push the younger off or shield himself from oncoming hits. Just sits passively with a monotone expression, staring into Jungkook’s eyes with a blank gaze.

“You’re not faultless. You yelled at her too.”

No, none of them are faultless. And perhaps Yoongi’s words were the nails in the coffin, but they all had part in pushing you to that brink. Jungkook’s eyes gloss over with defeat, and the grip he had on Yoongi’s shirt loosens. He steps away, unable to meet any of the gazes of his older brothers or the footage of your distressed face on the flat screen monitor. Leave. That’s all he’s known to do.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi holds no anger in his voice. It stops Jungkook in his tracks as he waits for his hyung to finish.

“I loved her too. We all do.”

They can only pray they’ll get to tell you.

The diner two blocks away from your aunt’s apartment complex is the last place anyone would expect Ambassador Yoo’s eldest daughter to be, much less employed at. You had spent the last two weeks scouring the area for a place that would take a girl with no prior work experience, a pending student visa, and no contacts or references. But here you were, working a minimum wage job and saving every penny to make something of yourself in this entirely new country.

It hasn’t been easy. Trying not to think about the seven boys that you left back home. The seven boys that you love so desperately and hopelessly, and foolishly thought they felt the same. It’s in the wee hours of the night that you toss and turn, closing your eyes and imagine yourself back at their manor. You will your brain to manifest the clacking sounds of Taehyung’s keyboard from across the wall or the footsteps of Yoongi’s bulky shoes when he walks past your door every night.

You miss them compulsively so. And perhaps they do not deserve your thoughts or heartache, but it belongs to them. Even after everything, you still belong to them. But you won’t give yourself the luxury of thinking you mean more than someone who they took pity on.

The days are the same. You get up early in the morning, put on a pot of coffee by yourself much to the disapproval of the housekeeper. Though it’s baby steps, you feel more independent this way. The coffee is terrible, of course, but it’s the thought that counts.

You leave before your aunt even leaves her bedroom, dedicated to your full-time job and earning money whenever you can. The pay is almost humorous, and a week’s worth of your labor probably equates to what Soyeon spends in a day. But it is your work. Your money. And though everyday starts and ends with heartache and longing for a life you once had in your grasp, it feels refreshing to learn to only need yourself.

“Y/N”, your manager sighs as you stumble through the door with frazzled hair and painfully dark under eyes. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. Traffic was insane this morning. It won’t happen again.” Your hair is expertly swept back into a haphazard bun, fiddling with the apron around your waist before jumping to the orders that have begun to get cold on the counter.

The work was simple. Slow. But it was honest and enough for you. The diner was calm; a refreshing environment from the one you had in Korea.

“Here you are, sir. Black coffee and a side of toast”, you muttered in a sugary sweet voice, fake smile stretched on your face to hide the perpetual pain in your chest that has not went away since you left the Bangtan house. It’s easier these days to just not think about it. To completely repress the trauma of your father and the boys and the failed therapy. The smile drops as soon as you turn around to walk back to the counter.

“Rough morning?” Lina’s voice is gravelly, rough from the coffee and 15-minute smoke breaks she takes every lunch.

“Something like that.” You collapse onto the cashier counter, holding your head in your hands to will away the pounding ache of your temples.

“First it was me completely sleeping through the morning alarm. Then it was the bus detouring and making five extra stops they usually don’t”, you huff.

“Y/N?”

“And don’t get me started on the fact that I decided to drop my phone in a puddle when I was running here.”

“Y/N.” Lina’s voice cuts through your venting monologue. She stares past you, as if there was something behind you captivating her attention.

“I think someone is staring at us from across the street.” Your brows furror at her words, whipping around to the window. When you see him. The air in the diner thins until it completely disappears, and the breath is stolen from your lungs.

Your paled face and shaking hands is what he sees from where he’s standing, clad in a black hoodie that covered his head, but you could recognize him in your sleep.You are both frozen in time and chaos, staring at each other like you both did not belong. Eyes glued to the other like you are both too good to be true.

Are you imagining it? Through the tears that reflexively pooled in your eyes and the way your body quivers, are you finally going insane and imagining a person who has been plaguing your mind for weeks?

Your feet carry you into action when your mind is still stuck in shellshock, bursting out of the diner doors with desperation on your tongue, hands reaching out as if it would span across the streetlight and bring him closer.

“Jin?” You are not quiet. You scream his name across what feels like a chasm, but is only just a couple meters away. Your legs usher you into the open street, and cars veer and honk to avoid your form, frozen on the crosswalk.

It takes you one second to blink and him one second to disappear into the crowd. Like he was never there at all and your mind was playing cruel, evil tricks on your already crumbling soul. A ruse that Lina was in on, just to torture your decimated spirit.

Could you allow yourself the luxury to think that he had come to see you? You didn’t know if you even wanted him to, didn’t know if you had it in you to forgive and forget.

“Jin.”

It comes out as a shaky whisper under your breath. A broken voice that longs for something she cannot have. Something that was so far in space and time it now felt like a figment of your imagination. You allow a tear to fall, your heart to crack a bit more, and return to the diner.

“Where have you been running off to these days?” The words are snide. Coated in feigned concern and curiosity and meant to be a jab at Jin’s recent absence in Bangtan activities. They are easy to fall from Yoongi’s lips as he steals another swig of the McKellan whiskey he’s been saving up for a special occasion or a rainy day. What more fitting than to mourn the space in his heart where you used to be.

Jin stays silent, only giving the intoxicated Yoongi a heavy eye roll and trudging past him. To say that the seven men were in terrible shape after your departure is a gross understatement. But Yoongi’s onset alcoholism seemed mild compared to how the rest of the boys were faring.

Both Taehyung and Jungkook haven’t left their rooms since finding out you were in America, only the sounds of their computer keys, heavy footsteps, and the empty food plates left at their doors to signal that they were alive in there. Namjoon had thrown himself into work, picking up the slack of all the other boys and sometimes emerging from his office at the early hours of dawn looking like he hasn’t slept in a week. His gaunty face and the way his once fitted shirt now falls loosely on his shoulders tells Jin he hasn’t eaten much either.

Hoseok could more often than not be found in the training room, breaking and bruising himself to numb him from the pain of losing you. He takes it out on the poor gang recruits that were unlucky enough to be chosen to spar with him.

And Jin? Well, Jin spent his days away from the house. Away from the business and the drugs and the people. He never tells anyone where he’s going or when he’s coming back and they are all too drained to try to ask. The boys live together but not truly. Just exist and breathe in the same space and too resentful of themselves and the others to fix the fragments you left behind. They miss you. Long for you and burn for you like they never have for anyone else.

See, it’s one thing to not know where you are and be forced to be away from you on the basis of ignorance. But to know your exact location, have the time and resources to easily get to you, yet can’t come to you because they’ve hurt you immeasurably is a different kind of torture. A different kind of ache that haunts their souls at every waking moment. You are so close and so far away, and they only have themselves to blame for the distance.

“Jun, can you make a meal for Namjoon? I’ll take it up to him.” Jin sighs to the housekeeper, shedding off his coat on the kitchen stool.

Jun nods knowingly, fully aware of the effects your absence has had on the masters of the house. And she is not blind to Jin’s indifference or the way he is doing worlds better than the others.

“He’ll probably try to yell at me and make you go away first. But he’ll be thankful eventually.” Jin nurses a cup of tea to warm him after his journey. Ones that he takes every week and for days at a time.

Jun nods again, assembling a tray of food that Namjoon will undoubtedly leave to get cold either at his door or the end of his desk. Before he leaves, however, Jun spares the man a knowing glance and a sad smile.

“You may want to return the private jet more promptly next time, sir. The others have gotten...wary.”

Jin’s eyes widen at her words, frozen for a millisecond in his footsteps as realization strikes in that he hadn’t been as inconspicuous as he thought. He says nothing as he departs from the kitchen. Only stares at the marble floor and wonders what would be the next time he’d get to see you. Even if from a street’s distance.

It takes four syncopated knocks before semblance of a noise emerges from behind Namjoon’s closed door. It comes in the form of an angered grunt, but Jin is no stranger to his leader’s brunt. He opens the door with no further permission.

Namjoon is in worse shape than he had expected. His hair is another level of unruly, greasy and matted and looking like the man ran his hands through it a billion times. The paperwork strewn across his desk and floor reflects the mess in Namjoon’s own head. Like he is suffocating himself in his work but still finds breath in his lungs. Still finds you in his thoughts.

“You need to eat”, Jin states demandingly. Namjoon only hums in response, keeping his eyes glued to the work in front of him. Jin pushes the tray into his line of vision.

“Eat, Joon. You can’t work if you starve. Y/N would want you to eat.”

Your name makes his pen stop writing. Makes his eyes widen like he hasn’t heard it said aloud in ages. It’s pathetic to Namjoon, really. How much one person has affected him.

“How would you know what Y/N wants, Jin? How would any of us?” He sneers, resuming the scribbling on his paper. Jin sighs dejectedly, opting to leave the food on his table and not be bothered with trying to help someone who so clearly didn’t want to be helped. He turns around to leave. Until Namjoon opens his mouth again.

“Unless….”, he teeters, “you do know what she wants.” He tosses the pen and papers aside, crossing his arms and sitting back in the desk chair.

“Unless you’ve been going behind our backs to see her.”

Had he been turned around facing Namjoon, the younger would have seen the clear exposed truth on his face. The blatant and unhidden look of guilt and shame that he quickly masks once he whips to face Namjoon.

“What are you talking about?”

The responding statement is quick. Too quick. Too accosting. Namjoon squints his eyes.

“Only the several days these past weeks you’ve disappeared from Bangtan’s radar. The bills for the jet fuel sent to my directory. The pilots you’ve been pulling away from our forces in Korea to personally tend to whatever shady business you’ve been hiding under my nose.”

Namjoon’s words are rapid fire, piercing into the facade that Jin thought he had so carefully crafted. He should’ve known nothing goes unnoticed under the leader’s eye.

“Namjoon, I-”

“Just be glad I didn’t tell the others. Especially Jungkook.” The thought of the youngest makes him sigh. Jungkook has always been so volatile. A ticking, emotionally-charged and codependent time bomb hiding under that muscle and masculinity. Namjoon knew better than to expose something like this just yet.

When he looks up at the man standing in the doorway of his office, he’s looking straight past him. Through the window like it was you he saw in the sky. Observing him now, up close and with more attention, Namjoon finally gets to truly see him.

On the surface, Jin is faring worlds better than any of them. He’s clean and freshly showered, hair coiffed to perfection like it usually is. He dons a black button up; perfectly ironed without a crease in sight. But Namjoon knows him better than that. Jin looks so utterly drained it stirs sympathy in even the darkest of hearts. His eyes communicate something his words can’t: Seokjin is completely lost without your light.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out breathily. Like he’s been waiting to say it all this time but couldn’t.

“I just…”, he stares down at his hands, “I just needed to see her. See if she was doing alright after we…” Jin trails off, not able to face the truth of their actions just yet. And though there is lingering anger in Namjoon, he can’t help but to feel his distress vicariously.

“You know, she’s a waitress now. At this small, run-down diner downtown. With a cute little apron and everything”, he chuckles softly, sadness seeping in every word.

“She lives with her aunt and uncle, and walks everywhere because she doesn’t have a car, at unholy hours of the night which keeps me up every night constantly worrying about her. But that’s Y/N, isn’t it? So careless of her own safety and well-being.”

Namjoon refrains the smile that creeps on his face at the thought of you.

“She was smiling when I saw her. I could still see she was sad but she was smiling. Like she always does just so other people feel happier around her.”

“Jin, you don’t have to-”

“And she’s lost so much weight, Namjoon. She was trying to yell out for help and all we did was ignore her.”

Jin’s words are nails on a chalkboard. Vinegar in wine. It makes them both nauseous and rueful, and the oxygen in Namjoon’s office suddenly becomes all too suffocating. Your presence, or lack thereof, has left a heavy residue on the walls of the manor.

The two boys sit in silence for a moment, before the sound of thumping boots on hardwood flooring echoes down the hallway, getting louder as it approaches the office. The door is nearly taken off its hinges as it violently swings open. Taehyung stands in the threshold, sweat on his brow and chest huffing up and down like an overexerted engine. He is pale in the face, hands trembling at his side and the sheer shock in his gaze tells the two older men that the words preparing to slip from his tongue are not going to be pleasant. Jin and Namjoon brace themselves for impact.

“It’s Y/N”, his whispered voice quivers. Their hearts drop.

“There’s been an accident.”

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

Text

apartment 6C. [e. jaeger]

the annoying guy in the apartment above you refuses to keep quiet, so it’s time to fight fire with fire.

cw: not proofread? idk like cussing also armin’s high lol

wc: 1k.

note: yes i got lazy in the end so what? idk this is just a funny idea i had it has potential but i am simply too tired to continue it rn enjoy lol.

“jesus christ i’m gonna fucking kill him!”

“is that—oh...okay,” jean doesn't get to finish his sentence before you get up from your place at the coffee table, round the couch, and yank open the tiny storage room in the kitchen.

“can’t you just file a complaint?” sasha asks. her eyes follow you curiously as she nestles an open box of pizza in her lap on the loveseat.

“you saying she should snitch?” connie pulls a face that’s meant for her, but his eyes are glued to the tv screen as his posture jerks left and right in accordance to the xbox controller in his hands.

you return with indistinct grumbles under your breath. jean snickers at you until he sees what you’ve brought back.

“fighting fire with fire?” he cranes his neck up from his seat on the floor to look at you standing. you give him a deadpan expression before stepping up onto the coffee table, taking the bright red broom in both your hands, and knocking the pointy end into the ceiling. one, two, three, four times, firm and fast.

“woah!” armin’s entire body jolts, the book in his one open palm getting tossed to the floor and the joint in between the fingers of his other hand dangerously close to being loosed. “what the hell was that!?”

“what?” eren calls to his friend from the other room. the kitchen door swings open as he steps through with two beers tucked between his long fingers and the other hand holding his phone to his line of vision.

“that scared the shit out of me,” armin breathes. “loud ass knocking from the floor below.”

eren’s eyes flick up from his phone. his hair sticks out of his small ponytail messily, a result of his frenzied reactions to watching the football game that has only just recently ended. the game was neck and neck the entire time, and it completely fried his nerves, not to mentions his friends’. at some point eren put armin in such an excited chokehold that mikasa had to chop him on the nape of his neck before the blond passed out. but it was still a win, topped off with panned shots of the stadium chanting we will rock you with deafening claps and stomps. armin and mikasa shared bemused looks at the way eren sang and percussed along like a little kid watching cartoons. yeah, he’d gotten a little rowdy.

“whatd’ya mean?” he asks to be sure.

“like, it sounded like if someone was pounding on a door except the door...was the floor,” armin leans back against the seat behind him and rests his head on the cushion, legs spread out across the floor and his joint-carrying arm raised high in the air, clearly already over the disturbance. he doesn’t catch the grin that rises slowly to eren’s face.

“she thinks she’s slick.”

“you’re gonna put a hole in your ceiling,” sasha tells you with curious eyes and no particular warning in her tone. her mouth works around the pizza as she talks.

“if it means it’ll fuck up his flooring, then i won’t mind as much,” you scoff, taking jean’s extended hand to help you down from the table.

“will somebody pleeease play mario kart with me,” connie hollers. any potential reply is cut short by a booming thud that has all four of you jumping out of your skin. sasha makes an eep sound chokes on her pizza, and connie—whose remote flew out of his hands at the sound— gets up to thump against her back as she coughs.

“what the fuck?” jean asks in genuine disbelief. it seems he’s finally catching on to the situation at hand. and then he’s looking at you, and you’re fuming.

“do you enjoy making people not like you?” armin asks his friend. there’s a confused frown etched onto his face as he watch eren drop a heavy dumbbell he’d retrieved from his room onto his hardwood floor.

“not especially, but with this girl it’s fun.”

“what girl?” armin asks, and he’s crawling onto the couch to lay on his back.

“lives under. she goes to trost too, but probably in a different school.” he lifts the dumbbell with one hand, veins protruding up his arm, and places it next to the tv stand before coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch. “annoying...as hell. like, gives me a dirty look if i take more than one of the complementary muffins in the lobby. complementary literally means free,” he says incredulously. his hand reached up to yank out his hairtie and re-pull his hair away from his face for a new bun. “plus, she’s friends with that guy jean.”

“from high school? didn’t he like mikasa?” armin asks. with eyes closed and his hands behind his head, he looks like the definition of unbothered. eren hums in confirmation.

“yeah, imagine my fuckin’ horror when i come home one day to see the hot girl who lives a floor down with horse face.” he pauses for a moment before continuing the one-sided conversation, though he doesn’t appear fazed. “they’re not together though. she comes home from dates or whatever sometimes.” armin makes an mhm sound as an act of attentiveness.

“ready?” connie asks. upon getting the okay, resounding crashes and clangs echo through the panels of wood beneath eren’s body. it’s not as startling as knocking, but tenfold more annoying.

“keep going!” jean yells over the crashing pots and pans. he begins alternating between banging his spatula into the casserole pan and onto the ceiling itself. connie hits the inside of his pot with a wooden spoon as if ringing a church bell, hand moving almost too fast to see. he pairs this with a sound akin to a turkey gobble, high and aggressive like a war cry. and finally, you and sasha each grip the handle of a large metal wok and smack its underside over and over again with your own tools of choice.

“eren,” armin says in part-groan part-whine. “why’d you provoke her? i’m tryna sleep.”

but the brunette’s attention is elsewhere. once again, that sly smile plastered to his face, he’s all too cheerful for a person whose ears are undergoing a violent assault.

“you know what this means, right...?” eren says. armin hmphs.

“you’re a child.”

“this means war, man.”

#nia.eren #nia.txt #eren yaeger headcanons #eren #eren yeager #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #snk #aot x reader

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thebeebi · 4 years

Text

your little games pt. 1

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: smut with a story, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 2.7k+ [part 1]

a/n: Finally I got to do a Jungkook fanfic. I am actually happy with this one. So please let me know what you think! Enjooooy! ♥

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

I must run away! You looked around yourself, trying to not notice a dead body on the floor. Still numb from the thing you did to the older man. The fear of being found made you keep going. You took all of your things and kneeled next to the body. Looking away, you patted around his pocket to find the key to unlock the room. The room you were forcefully locked in. You quivered with fear but the possibility of being caught kept you going. Taking off the bloody dress, you put on the new clean one and shoved the old one into the backpack. You hugged the bad and started walking towards the door with the key in the right hand ready to unlock the world of freedom. Hesitating for a bit, you stood still and wondered what is awaiting you out there. You felt fear once again but decided it was better out there than in this hellhole. You run out of the door fast, passing by the kitchen downstairs, stopping in front of the door frame, but instead of the door, there was a heavy curtain. You pushed it a bit to the side and the fear within raised even more. Someone was there. You backed away looking for another exit, but the feeling of someone following you was there. Your breathing was fast and you felt like you could not go on but the freedom was so close. The heartbeat was fast but your steps were faster. You finally found the exit and ran out of the house you were held in. You run, run far away from the place not knowing what direction you were going in. You just wanted to flee from that place. Maybe if I get lost, it would fool the person who is after me? You thought but was confused because you did not hear any footsteps behind you. Is my own heartbeat cause of me not hearing well? You kept on running through the streets of the town, passing by the huge shops, the empty market, around the mansions and the small looking ordinary houses.

People were looking at you but you did not care. You were exhausted and even though you were scared, you stopped for a second to catch a breath. You felt the stinging pain with every breath you took but you were okay with it. As long as you were far away from that place. You noticed how the air changed and the smell of salt and water hit your nostrils. The eyes that were closed before opened widely and you looked up. The heavy fog caused you not to see anything but the fire torch on the side of the house. You weren’t sure where you were, so you slowly started heading towards the only source of the light. Not like you had any other option. You did not want to return to the fog-filled darkness, so you walked towards the fire torch. You could hear the sound of the waves hitting the rocky wall and screeching noise of wooden planks which were presumably used as the floor on the ships, but could not see anything. You did not even know where you were exactly heading to. The sounds were coming from each side and the only source of light disappeared right in front of your eyes.

“I swear to God, it is her! We found her! Come on, Taehyung! Take her.” You turned towards the voices looking surprised at two men approaching your shivering body. They knew. They are coming for me. You were sure they were the people who were following you. You could not move so you stood there waiting for her fate. “Hey there,” said the blonde one of the duo and smiled from ear to ear at his companion. “The captain will like her. What do you think, Taehyung?” The brown-haired man licked his lower lip and simply nodded. “Definitely. This one will work.”

You could feel yourself trembling under the perverted gazes of the men who were too close to your liking but could not say anything. You knew you had no right to do so. The only thing left within is your strong will. The only thing no one can take from you. “Where are you taking me?” you whispered softly. Taehyung laughed and winked at the older man next to him. “She is willing, Jimin. He will love it. Only if I could, I would love to be in his place tonight.” Said Taehyung biting his lower lip once again. “Just a bit further,” said Jimin and tilted his head to the side pointing at the slowly ship that was slowly showing up. “On the board of Bangtan. Let’s go.“ And so you followed him, while the other male was right behind you. There was no chance of running away. You were surprised by the new setting, not understanding why they were taking you on the ship but it did not matter. My life if not mine anymore anyway. You thought as you willing held Jimin’s hand to hop on the wooden plank that connected the docks with the ship. He swiftly let go once you were on board making sure that no one else saw, that he touched the captain’s lady. He pointed towards the direction and asked you to follow him as he led you towards the wooden door hidden at the and of the hallway. In front of them, he halted his steps, took a deep breath and softly knocked three times. Without waiting for the response, Jimin opened the door and made his way inside, into the captain’s cabin. The unfamiliar man stood up from the table. Only if you weren’t so scared, you could have noticed that he was tall, well built and that his eyes were deep brown. The man had brown slim fitted trousers, that were too tight around his waist and the snow-white shirt was unbuttoned down to his hips. It showed his muscular broad chest. He looked a bit like a pirate but also as a demon. His dark hair was up to his chin but the best part was his face. It was like he was made by God’s touch. His nose was straight, but from the profile, you could notice a tiny bump on it. His plump lips were the ones Eve would kiss every day in the Eden but suddenly he was here. And you were well aware of that. He was there and so close to you. If only you weren’t in this situation, you would do anything to get to know that man. When he smiled, your knees went weak. He came closer to you, he measured you from the bottom to the top, not missing any detail on your body.

“I see you did your best today, Jimin. I bet it took you long before you found this gem.“ Said the beautiful man still looking at you. “Not really, captain.” He replied and Taehyung swiftly added: “We found her near the docks, she was very willing.” Taehyung smirked as he looked at your body hungrily. The tall man nodded and slowly started walking around you. He was not touching you by anything than his dark lusty eyes, that were appreciating every curve of your body and your breasts which looked like they were moulded by the goddess of beauty, Aphrodite. The backpack you were holding in you hand went back against your chest, as you were trying to cover from the longing gaze of the captain. The dress you changed into was of thin fabric and you regretted not changing into male clothes back then. The tall man stood still in front of you, smiled, but you weren’t looking at him. You refused to look at him wondering how is your fate going to look like from now on. The two men that brought you there were smirking, satisfied with tonight’s present for their captain.

The tall man moved to the side, so Jimin could whisper something to him. You briefly looked around the cabin, but could not see anything. Even though you looked strong, from the inside you felt like you were about to break down. You were tired, exhausted and confused. You could not imagine the trial on the ship, but because you did not know anything about law and these things, you thought that you would be sent to some colony for killing a man. Or so you tough. Oh God, when I think about all of my childhood dreams… When I think about how I wanted to run away from poverty just to be almost raped by that old man. I wanted to have an easy life. But I will be sent to prison or some unknown colony for the sin I committed. You sighed as you got reminded of the reasons why you ended up in the room with the man who tried to take advantage of you. I killed a man, they caught me and now I have to accept whatever the fate prepared for me. You shut your eyes tightly and bit your lower lip nervously. With the saddening thoughts, you went numb. You were guilty. They caught you and now you have to wait for the trail. You were so deep in the thoughts, you did not hear two men that brought you there left.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep chuckle of the man standing in front of you. He bowed. “Welcome. What is your name, little one?” He smiled. “Y/N,” you exhaled but when you saw him tilting his head you added softly “captain.” He nodded and walked towards the table. “That is a very beautiful name, Y/N. My name is Jeon Jungkook, but my friends call me Jungkook. Have you eaten already?” You hesitated to give him an answer but nodded at the end. “Wine, maybe?” Jungkook asked and took the bottle to pour himself and then brought a bottle closer to you. You shook your head to reject a drink and looked down on the floor. Captain laughed silently at your reaction and walked to you until he stopped closely. He took the backpack you were holding eagerly and threw it to the other side of the cabin still keeping his gaze on you. He was addicted to your beauty and dress which provided just a tiny coverage of your curves. Your skin was reflecting the light from the candle placed on the table. The captain saw a beautiful woman sitting in front of him with an exquisite bust that was showing above the cut of the dress. As you were breathing, your breasts were rising and falling down. For Jungkook it was a beautiful sight he could not get enough of.

He came even closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up. He covered your lips with his. You could feel a hint of bitter wine, the taste your father liked. You were so surprised and reminded of the past, that you forgot to protest and stood still, letting the man kissing you. You could see yourself out of your body, but when his tongue slipped into your mouth a wave of emotions came crashing down of you. Most of all you felt excitement when this tongue opened your soft lips and entered inside. From somewhere within, you felt a weird feeling which was strangely comforting. You knew if the circumstances were different, you would like the situation you were in. Captain stepped back smiling but you could see his eyes were filled with lust. When he pulled his hand away, you gasped as you felt your dress falling down to the floor. For a moment your eyes met, but you interrupted it by trying to lift the dress back up but his hands held your shoulders and pulled you into his embrace. It was when you realised that the man wanted. What he was doing. You knew you could not do anything. Your body was weak from what happened earlier today and the running just exhausted you so much, you could not do anything. You were trying to push him away. You ran away from the disgusting man who tried to take advantage of you just to run into the man who will do the same. The embrace of Mr Brown this afternoon was strong, but Jungkook’s arms were made of steel. You could not push him away to free yourself. While you were moving your hand on his body, by accident you pushed captain’s shirt down of his shoulders and it made its way down to the floor. The only wall between your bodies was a tiny material of your bra. Your lost your breath whenever he covered your lips with his and then he continued kissing your face and the top of your bust. You could feel how was his hand sliding down your back and suddenly your bra was unclasped and fell down. The exposed breast was covered by his broad chest. When you felt the heat he radiated, you strongly pushed him away and for a second you were freed. He laughed and took that as a cue to take off his shoes and trousers.

He smirked, “You are playing your little games well, but there is no way, that you would win.” He was looking at your naked bust and you could see the passion in his eyes. You were more beautiful and charming than he was wishing for. On the other hand, it was your first time seeing a naked man and it was terrifying. You stood still until the captain walked closer to you once again and when he did, you screamed and turned around ready to run away. You wanted to, but his strong grip on your waist halted any action you tried to do. The grip was strong, but it never hurt you. He did not try to do you any harm. You bowed down to bit into his hand. Captain cursed and pulled his hand back to rub the hurt spot. You took it as your cue to run but tripped and fell down to his bed. In the second he was on top of you, pressing you into the mattress. You felt like every movement you did was just encouraging him. The hair that was in a bun before was now ruffled and you could not breathe. “No!” you screamed. “Stop it! Let me go!” Captain smirked and whispered by your neck. “Oh no, little one. No. Not anymore.”

With that, he moved and for a second you could not feel his body. But soon again, you could feel as his hard member was looking for something in between your thighs until it found something. He entered you a bit and you in fear lifted your back from the bed, trying to escape the pain you started to feel. He could hear something between a scream and groan from your mouth when you felt the strong pain in the lower parts of your body. Jungkook moved back a bit surprised. You were weakly laying on the mattress shaking your head. Jungkook softly touched your cheek and whispered something you could not hear, but your eyes were closed and did not want to look at him. He was moving gently above you, kissing your hair and forehead and kept on caressing every part of your beautiful body. You weren’t moving even when you felt his gentle thrusts becoming more aggressive and soon enough he entered fully because he could not control himself anymore. You could feel that your body was about to break with every trust of his body and soon enough your eyes were filled with tears.

When the storm ended, and everything was calm, he became once again the sweet, gentle man. When he finally pulled out, you turned to the side and let out all the tears you were holding in. With the closest blanket, you covered your face and your now filthy body so he could not look at you any longer. Jungkook was confused. He looked at the beautiful woman laying next to him. Jungkook was adoring the beautiful curves of her hips and soft thighs he was holding just a few minutes ago. He reached in to touch you, while wondering what went wrong – how you were willing to come to him at first and walked into his cabin, then how you were playfully protesting but still thrusted against his length in the bed – and now you were crying in front of him with the blood on the sheet. What made you turn into a prostitute, little one?

Part 2

a/n: I really hope you liked this one, I wrote it today and decided to surprise you all! :)

#bts smut #yandere bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jeon jungkook #bts yandere #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #yandere jungkook #yandere

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oh-obrien · 4 years

Note

AAAH THE ONE SHOT WITH THE STOVE WAS EVERYTHING! ✨✨Could I also request something? I did feel the duel scene was a bit underwhelming, I did want some more drama tbh (and I love Anthony as well). What about a one shot Anthony x reader, where the reader accompanies Daphne and lots of more drama? Perhaps reader gets hurt, Anthony in panic, angsty and stuff..feel free to adjust

I HOPE THIS ONE IS GOOD TOO!! I took a few creative liberties with this, adjusting the events on the show to fit the request and what not.

I’m coming off of a little bit of a migraine hangover and tbh I’m not sure how I feel about this right now on top of getting back into the swing of school. This is the first day since Friday that looking at my computer for more than twenty minutes doesn’t hurt my head so sorry it took longer than expected.

As always if you’re not happy with this, or if you want to request anything else feel free to slide into my inbox! These requests are SUPER fun.

After Daphne’s scandalous run in with Simon in the garden the night before, Anthony had taken it upon himself to challenge his long-time friend to a duel. The ball was supppsed to be your and Anthony’s grand debut as the newest couple of the season, however, you never got your dance with the Lord, and your dance card now laid empty and forgotten on the floor of the Bridgerton study.

Your dress also laid crumpled in a ball of fabric in the corner of the room. After hearing of your and Anthony’s intentions to begin properly courting, Violet had taken you to the seamstress to get one of your gown adjusted. Genevieve Delacroix had added stunning crystals to the delicate pale green fabric. Your had had been done perfectly by the Bridgerton family’s staff and you had even agreed to wearing a small amount of makeup. However, the night of your dreams abruptly ended when Anthony interrupted your conversation with Colin to inform you both he would be taking Daphne home for the evening as she was not feeling well.

The anger pouring off the eldest Bridgerton was like nothing you had ever seen before and you couldn’t help but wonder if she had rejected the Prince’s proposal, as you knew he had to intend to propose soon, and no night seemed better. However, as Anthony dragged his sister away you couldn’t catch his or Daphne’s eye, leaving your dreams of starting a whirlwind public relationship with Anthony crushed.

You now sat on the desk in the Bridgerton study, Colin pacing around the room in front of you, his boots rhythmically hitting the floor with every step he took. “What if he kills Simon?”

“Colin-”

“What if Simon kills him?”

“Colin I don’t think that-”

“Benedict surely doesn’t want to be bothered with the social scene, does that mean the responsibility to escort all of my sisters through their season falls on me?” The boy in front of you stopped pacing and pulled on the roots of his hair, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m supposed to be traveling soon! Anthony is supposed to be the mature one, he’s supposed to know how to run the family! Not me!”

“COLIN! STOP!” You finally cut the boy off, standing up and placing both of your hands firmly on his shoulders. “Nothing is going to happen to Simon or Anthony, no one saw Simon and Daphne in that garden other than your brother so there’s nothing to hide!” You dropped your hands from Colin’s shoulder.

“But-” both you and Colin turned to face the door of the study, Daphne standing in the doorway, her tone sombre and her head bowed towards the ground. “What if someone did see?”

You stepped away from Colin to face the eldest Bridgerton daughter, your tone changing to one of concern. “What do you mean what if someone saw,” you felt panic starting to bubble up in your chest. “Did someone see you and Simon in the garden last night?” You thought Anthony had been overreacting when he pulled yourself and Colin into the study the night before after you had helped escort Lady Bridgerton home. But if Daphne was concerned someone saw her and Simon kiss, maybe he wasn’t overreacting.

Daphne opened her mouth, as if she wanted TJ speak, before closing it again. Silence fell across the three of you before you heard Daphne gasp. “Cressida Cowper,” Daphne blurted out. “When Anthony brought me inside she stopped me and and asked if I caught a chill in the garden.” You watched Daphne’s expression change to one of concern.

“Cressida Cowper,” Colin started running a frustrated hand over his face again, “saw you and Hastings in the garden last night and Anthony, nor Hastings, know?” He took in a long breath before leering the air out through his nose.

Daphne quickly shook her head. “Colin you need to tell me where they went,” Daphne demanded. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, not finding it proper to interrupt the conversation between the siblings.

“Daphne, Hasting has, he’s done you one of the greatest dishonors,” Colin quickly shook his head, giving his sister a clearly confused look. “I’m sure you want him to pay.”

“I don’t want him to pay with his life!” Daphne’s voice grew louder and you stepped towards the sibilants again, hoping you wouldn’t have to be the one to calm their tempers so no one else in the estate would be woken.

“Well, I’m sure both Anthony and the Duke will do as gentlemen should and shoot wide,” Colin supplemented with a shrug.

You stepped between the two siblings, “besides,” you supplemented, “everyone might just think that Cressida has a grudge against you. You did take the Prince’s attention off of her, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Daphne, however, seemed to refuse to take no for an answer. “Colin you need to tell me where they went.” She turned to her brother again, a desperate look on her face now, “you know Anthony’s pride won’t let him shoot wide.”

Colin puffed air into his cheek, letting it out slowly before speaking. “Fine, but we’re coming with you.”

You had been lucky enough to be able to bring your own horse with you to London, and now, racing towards the site of the duel, you were glad you had. The Bridgerton’s horses clearly had not gotten used to speeding across the hills, as they lagged slightly behind you. Years of living out in the middle of the country had given you, and your horses, the ability to adapt to all different types of terrain. Be it flooded field, rolling hills or even shoulder high grasses, your horses were able to tackle it all.

You were glad your hair, still expertly tied up from the night before, had yet to be taken out as it kept the strands from flying into your face, distracting you from the task at hand. Still slightly ahead of both Colin and Daphne you were able to make out five figures standing in a plot of open land between two beautiful trees. Anthony and Simon were back to back in the clearing, both men clutching a handgun between their hands.

“You can go faster,” you urged your horse while he pushed himself to fly faster through the tall grass field, his breath coming out in heavy puffs. Anthony and Simon began to take slow, steady steps away from each other and you held your breath, knowing you were unable to push your horse to go any faster without him hurting himself.

Both men paused briefly before turning to face each other. Anthony pointed his gun towards Simon, while the Duke aimed towards the sky. Now, within proper distance of the ongoing duel you started to slow your horse. “Anthony!” You swung both of your legs to one side of your horse, trying to keep your balance while you did so. “Anthony stop!” Your horse slowed to nearly a stop and you let yourself slide off your horse’s back, your feet not even hitting the ground before you were running towards the two men.

“What are you doing?” Benedict practically yelled while you ran in between Anthony and the Duke. “Anthony! Anthony stop!” Benedict called when he realized you had already made up your mind. However, his call for the eldest Bridgerton to hold his fire.

Before you knew what had hit you, in both a literal and figurative sense, you felt a searing pain cut across your cheek. The bang of the gun firing didn’t reach your ears until after you had hit the ground, your left hand clutched tightly over your right cheek. Anthony and Benedict calling your name didn’t register either, especially when you pulled your hand away from your cheek and noticed it had been covered in blood.

“(Y/N),” a warm, heavy hand was placed on your shoulder and another pulled your hand away from your cheek. “The doctor needs to make you’re you’re fine, (Y/N),” Anthony’s panicked eyes met your own. However, you couldn’t focus on them with the pain in your cheek and the blood still covering your hand.

An older man crouched down next to you, pulling a medical bag up next to him and opening it before he began expecting the wound on your cheek. “The bullet just grazed her,” the doctor spoke while he began cleaning the wound, “she’s lucky.”

“Thank the heavens,” Anthony breathed out while he pressed his forehead to your temple on your unharmed side, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you could hear his voice break towards the end.

“She’s perfectly fine my lord, keep the wound clean and covered and it’ll heal in absolutely no time.” You winced when you felt the doctor wipe something across your cheek, the pain flaring up momentarily before subsiding again. “I’m sure you could tell Lady Bridgerton it was a riding accident and everything would be believed. “If that’s all, and you gentlemen don’t intend on trying the duel again,” the doctor looked between Anthony and the Duke, “I’ll be going.”

Hasting and Anthony both thanked the doctor before he departed, Daphne and Simon engaged in a seemingly heated conversation along with Colin and Benedict. “(Y/N).” Anthony started, both of your hands held in one of his large ones. “I don’t-”

“I can’t right now, Anthony,” you placed a hand across your covered cheek. “I just,” you let out a frustrated sigh, “I’m questioning if your mind and your heart and in two different places at the moment.” You felt tears begin to gather in the corners of your eyes.

“(Y/N), please,” Anthony seemed to be nearly begging, tears gathered in his own eyes while you stood up. Your hands felt from his grip and you cupped his cheek with one, running your thumb along his cheek bone.

You offered the man in front of you a sad smile before you removed your hand. “I’m going to ask one of your brothers to escort me home while you and the others decide the next steps between Daph and the Duke.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him to. “Once you reconsider priorities we can revisit our arrangement, but I will not be second to any other reckless endeavors you wish to engage in if we do get married.”

With that you turned from the Viscount, still on his knees in the damp morning grass, tears in his eyes and a frown on his face.

#anthony bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony Bridgerton fanfiction #anna writes

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weighty-ghosts · 3 years

Text

‘Perpetual Force’ (wolfstar)

Perpetual Force, by weightyghosts

‘Sirius finds the hidden meaning of a hidden moon, and Remus finds the light to his darkness.’

Rating: teen

Word count: 2000

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: April 1, 2021

Warnings: swearing, nightmares

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30393084

The sound of a terrified gasp and muffled sob abruptly awoke Sirius in the middle of the night. He leapt out of bed, the stone floor freezing on his bare feet, as James and Peter popped their sleepy heads out of their drapes.

“What’s going on?” Peter rubbed his eyes, his voice gruff.

“Is some- someone dead or injured?” James asked around a large yawn.

Sirius ignored them as he rushed across the dark room to the bed opposite his. He drew aside the curtain, only enough for him to lean his upper body in, and saw Remus sitting up with his back against the headboard, one hand clutching at his sweaty hair, trying to calm his rapid breathing.

“Rem?” Sirius asked softly, “Are you alright?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on Remus’ shoulder, but Remus jerked away and scrambled to the other side of the bed.

“It’s nothing,” he choked out as he stood up and dashed away, “I’m fine. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

Sirius straightened and walked around the bed, as Remus firmly shut the bathroom door behind him. He hovered in the middle of the room, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before glancing back at Peter, who gave Sirius a shrug before disappearing behind his curtains.

“Go on,” James encouraged, then made a shooing motion with his hand when Sirius didn’t reply.

“What?” Sirius grumbled.

“We both know you’re going in there after him.”

“He’s upset, Prongs.”

“Yes, and I’m sure deep down he wants you to comfort him-”

“You mean someone. He wants someone to comfort him.”

“No, I very much mean you,” James insisted with a smirk that Sirius didn’t trust. “Just go, Pads. See- see you in the morning,” he yawned again and disappeared.

Sirius bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to figure out why James’ words left him feeling like he was missing something right in front of him, but he thought of Remus and decided to sort that out later.

He crept over to the bathroom and opened the door slowly. Cool air hit him and he turned to the window that had been thrown open. Remus was sitting on the sill, hugging his legs, moonlight the only thing illuminating his body. It was enough for Sirius to see that he was shivering.

Remus sighed at the sound of Sirius shutting the door behind him, and pushed aside the fringe sticking to his damp forehead. “I’m fine, Sirius. You don’t need to check on me.”

“Oh, good,” Sirius retorted as he came closer, “I was actually hoping you’d check on me. See, I had a nasty nightmare and now I’m all shaky and sweaty and panicky and not accepting comfort from anyone.”

He sat across from the werewolf on the sill they had magically enlarged so that two people could sit comfortably, and three squished together, for smoking purposes.

Remus narrowed his eyes at him, then looked away. “Trust me, it’s nothing. Just a stupid dream.”

“Doesn’t seem stupid, Moony.”

Sirius almost missed Remus’ minute flinch at the nickname. “Another one about the wolf?” He guessed.

“No,” he murmured, “I mean, yes, sort of. But this was new.”

“Tell me,” Sirius replied softly, aching with the desire to take away Remus’ pain.

Remus studied his face for a moment, likely assessing how awake Sirius was and how far he would keep pushing Remus until he inevitably gave in. He huffed in defeat, then took a deep, wavering breath, and rested his chin on his knees as he spoke.

“We were in the forest,” he started in a low voice. “I could feel the moon rising and knew I was only a few minutes away from turning. You three were there- as Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail, I mean, and something felt...off. Padfoot was pacing, and whining a bit. You looked up at the sky, and when I did too, I realized... I couldn’t see the moon.”

Sirius frowned, but said nothing, as he watched Remus’ eyes flick over to the near-full moon stamped in the sky outside.

“I felt this sense of dread; I knew that this was bad-”

“How did you know?” Sirius interrupted.

“It’s a dream, Sirius. I don’t know how, but I just knew; if I didn’t find the moon, something bad would happen.”

“Alright, sorry, keep going.”

“We were pretty deep in the forest where the trees are thicker, so I started running in the direction of the castle, hoping to see the sky unobstructed as the trees thinned. All I could hear was this ringing in my ears and my heart beating faster and faster. My body was aching and starting to shake, you know how it does just before.” Remus glanced up, and Sirius hummed in acknowledgment.

“I made it to a large clearing,” Remus continued, “And I looked up at where I knew the moon should be...but the sky was empty. You’d think I’d be fucking happy, but I panicked. I ran around in circles, tried to climb trees, tried to find the bloody moon. And I couldn’t. I eventually collapsed; the wolf couldn’t get free and it was punishing me. It was the worst pain...”

“Fuck, Rem...”

“I couldn’t find the moon, Pads.” Remus put a hand over his face as he laughed without humour, the sound catching in his throat.

Sirius slid forward and put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he promised, “You’re okay, it wasn’t real. You won’t have to go through that kind of pain, alright?”

Remus shook his head back and forth, then sniffed loudly as he met Sirius’ eyes.

“I don’t think it was the pain that freaked me out so much.”

“What, then?” Sirius asked, sliding his hand down to hold onto Remus’ wrist when he hesitated. He tilted his head to tell Remus to keep going.

“I just don’t understand why I reacted like that… Why wasn’t I fucking ecstatic not to see the moon? All I want is for the moon to go away.”

“That’s just unreasonable, Remus, the tides would be all out of whack,” Sirius joked.

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched up into a smile, but it didn’t last.

“I don’t get it, Pads,” he said dejectedly.

Sirius shrugged. “I think it makes sense.”

Remus stared at him like he’d just said he prefers coffee over tea, or something else equally abhorrent.

“You know,” Sirius reflected, “The day before I went on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, I actually told my parents I didn’t want to go.”

“Why? Because they said you had to?”

“Maybe a little,” he chuckled. Remus knew him well enough to know that he would have refused his favourite ice cream just because his parents told him to eat it. “But no, I think it was more...fear. I was afraid.”

Remus tilted his head in a thoroughly adorable way. “Why would you be afraid of coming to Hogwarts? Didn’t you want a break from your parents?”

“I did,” he confirmed, “I wanted to get away from them. But it’s the most common fear in the world, isn’t it? Being afraid of the unknown? I was scared at home too, but at least I knew what to expect. I knew how my parents would react to anything I said or did. Coming here... I had no idea. What if I didn’t get sorted into Slytherin? Or worse, what if I did... What if my roommates hated me-”

“Not possible.”

“Yes it was! I know you didn’t like me at first.”

“You were a bit of a prick,” Remus conceded.

“I was a proper arse,” Sirius smirked unapologetically, drawing a small laugh from Remus. “It’s the unknown, Moony,” he continued more seriously, “As much as you hate what you go through every month, it’s been the one constant in your life for as long as you can remember. You know what to expect from it. There’s a lot changing in the world around us, and we only have a few months left of school; I think we’re all feeling the weight of it. It’s okay to be worried. But we’ll get through it, yeah?”

Remus didn’t reply, simply gazed at Sirius for a long while, before nodding thoughtfully. He turned his head to look out at the night sky, and Sirius was able to watch the moonlight on his beautiful face; the shadows under his eyes, his long lashes, the slope of his nose, the corners of his mouth still turned down in sadness.

Remus had long since stopped being angry at the moon, stopped glaring at it whenever it deigned to blemish the sky. He looked at it now in a somber resignation; how someone would observe the grave of a loved one long since passed.

Sirius realized he was still holding onto Remus, and quickly found it difficult to remember what he wanted to say.

When he did, he whispered, “Moony?”

“Hm?”

“If you ever can’t find the moon, you can come find me.”

“What?” Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius-”

“No, listen,” he cut in, suddenly desperate to make Remus understand, “I know I’ve broken your trust before, but it will never happen again. I’ll always be there for you.”

Sirius slid his fingers from Remus’ wrist to his hand, holding it tight, as Remus’ eyes flicked across his face. “I’ll always be there,” Sirius urged, “The moon is the perpetual force in your life pulling you into the dark? Then I’ll be the perpetual force pulling you into the light.”

Remus just stared back at him, his eyes wide and glittering, his mouth open. Sirius waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.

Instead, he tugged Sirius’ hand, pulling him close as Remus leaned forward. Sirius’ mind froze like he’d been stupefied, but he managed to realize what was happening a second before it did, and he felt Remus’ lips press against his, gently, yet firmly.

Remus pulled back slightly, waiting for Sirius’ reaction.

“Did- did you just kiss me?” Sirius asked stupidly.

“Erm, yes?”

“Did you... mean to do that?”

“Yes?”

Remus bit his lip, and Sirius’ eyes were drawn to the mouth that had just been on his. There was a bead of saliva on Remus’ top lip. His hand felt warm and tingly from where they touched, though, really, it was nothing compared to the raging fire building inside him.

“Did you...want to do it again?”

“Yes,” Remus exhaled, his face lighting up with a grin that Sirius immediately surged forward to capture. Remus’ lips tasted like tea and honey and peppermint, and Sirius could tell he was quickly becoming addicted to it.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered after a divine moment.

“For kissing you?”

“For following me in here and comforting me.”

“I thought you were comforting me?”

“Ah is that what I’m doing?” Remus smirked. His face softened and he ran his thumb along Sirius’ palm. “You were wrong though, you know.”

“I highly doubt that,” Sirius dismissed. “About what?”

“You said the moon has been the only constant in my life for as long as I can remember. But that’s not true.”

He looked deep into Sirius’ eyes, and Sirius felt his heart stutter at the adoration in them. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, Pads. My love for you has been a constant in my life too.”

“Oh,” Sirius breathed. The words felt like sunlight washing over him, and he took a second to let the warmth seep into his bones. “Moony…” He brought a hand up to cup Remus’ cheek and tilted his face as their lips fit together, hoping to convey every feeling that was lost on his tongue into his touches.

“Me too, Moons,” he professed in between kisses, “As long as I can remember.”

The rest of the night was spent in each other's arms, as were the next nights for a long, long while.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar first kiss #ficbyweightyghosts #marauders #marauders era #hurt/comfort #nightmares #nightmare comfort #fan fiction #Sirius x Remus #remus x sirius #moony #padfoot

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.6k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mentions of sexual content

A/N: please do tell me your thoughts on this chapter ! lots of things are going on at once and you may not be happy with me about all of them fskjfksdfjsd

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

You wake up to hair tickling your nose. Flinching away automatically, you’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s distinctive curls as he snores against your chest. His weight presses you against the bed, one of his hands tucked around the nape of your neck and a leg hooked over your hip. Even though Tae was a cuddler, this was closer than he tended to be.

Coming to sit on the side of the bed above you, you catch sight of Jimin leaning in with a fond, albeit sleep-deprived smile to ruffle Taehyung’s hair and then gently buff you on the cheek. You can’t help but return his smile, but it only takes a moment for the reminders of reality to flood back into your mind.

Jimin, already fully-dressed and with subtle sweeps of pearlescent silver on his lids, frowns at your change in demeanour. “He’ll be okay,” he whispers, not needing to ask you what’s on your mind.

You nod, careful not to jostle the sleeping man on your chest. Part of you just wants to fall back unconscious with him until things are back to normal, though the thought of going into town to visit Yoongi gives you something to stay awake for. “Are the others up?”

“Not yet,” Jimin mumbles, glancing towards the door as if he could see them from his spot on the bed. “I wanted to let them sleep. I’ve been messaging hyung.”

Fighting the urge to sit up, your eyes widen. “Is he doing okay?”

Jimin shrugs. “I doubt he’d admit over text if he wasn’t, but he seemed hopeful. His father is starting to stay awake for longer bouts of time, almost enough to hold a conversation.”

“That’s good,” you respond in a small voice, though it’s just a guess, your voice lilting at the end in uncertainty. You didn’t know anything about heart attacks, had never been confronted by them in your life, and could only assume that responsiveness was a positive sign.

Taehyung shifts on top of you, and you freeze, waiting for him to adjust himself, grumble a bit, and continue snoozing.

Jimin quirks a smile, gets up, and makes his way around to your side of the bed. Lying on top of the covers, he turns his face to you, so close you feel the tip of his nose bump yours. “Y/n,” he starts off slowly, eyes swimming in some unreadable emotion.

You find yourself unable to break the gaze. “Mm?”

“I don’t want to wait.”

Your brows furrow. “Wait for what? The others?”

“No, no,” he dismisses, plush lips protruding a little in insistence. “I… This has me thinking. The whole situation with Yoongi’s father, I mean. I can’t imagine any of us here are exactly at risk of heart failure, but it does make me think about just how much is left up to fate.” He drops his eyes, then, tilting onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. You feel a nudge on the back of your hand, and look down to see Taehyung unconsciously reaching out, wrapping his fingers around yours. When you look up, Jimin still hasn’t continued. His jaw works, like he’s toying with the right words to say.

When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, smooth murmur, barely loud enough for the two of you to hear. “Our plan of waiting until we can date like normal seemed logical at the time. But I care so much about the two of you. Too much. It seems foolish to postpone anything just to play it safe.”

You blink, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice and the words it delivers. “So… What are you saying, Jimin?”

He swivels, quick enough to jiggle the bed, and Taehyung whines against your collarbone, slowly beginning to rouse from sleep. Jimin doesn’t notice, his eyes burning twin fires as he leans in close again. “I don’t want to wait to tell you I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back without hesitation. Jimin’s hands reach out gently to cup the sides of your face so tenderly, eyes crinkling, and suddenly you feel the sting of tears. Taehyung’s weight begins to shift and lift off of you, rolling onto the other side of the bed, and the sudden change has you feeling unmoored. “This is going to get messy, Jimin. You know that.”

“What’s going to get messy?” Beside you, Taehyung pushes himself up onto one elbow, blearily rubbing at his eyes.

Instead of responding, Jimin’s teeth peek out from a grin as he launches himself over you and collides with Taehyung mouth-first, gripping his t-shirt and holding him close for a few, meaningful moments.

When they break apart audibly, Taehyung looks stunned still, and Jimin lets out a disbelieving laugh, like he can’t even process his own enthusiasm. “Tae-tae, I love you,” he announces in visible delight, smile stretching.

Taehyung’s eyes widen and glisten, and his fingers jump up to wrap around Jimin’s wrist. “Minnie,” he breathes, and the three words that follow don’t need to be voiced for you - and Jimin - to hear them.

Straightening up further and turning to address the both of you, Jimin looks like a mad scientist on the verge of a breakthrough, his previously coiffed appearance looking decidedly rumpled. “It- I don’t care if it’s messy,” he confesses, “I don’t. And I don’t care that it’s scary, or that I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to- to this, or that we’re still in the show. You make me happy, both of you, and I love both of you, and…” He cuts himself off to swallow and suck in a breath, fingers clenching in the fabric of Tae’s shirt that he never let go of. “And I think I deserve to have this.”

When he puts it like that, you have no rebuttals. Sitting up to meet him halfway, you seek out his lips and let your eyes fall closed to savour the closeness.

Jimin kisses you like he never has before. It’s free, unfiltered, and not in the greedy, intense way he kissed you when you were scening together. Jimin kisses you like he’s entirely liberated, like he could spend an eternity with his lips joined to yours, unhurried and assured.

Your lungs lighten with a lack of oxygen, but you refuse to part from the softness of his embrace until you’re physically tugged out of it.

Taehyung pouts up at you, tilting his chin up. Even as he feigns being playful, you know what he’s asking for, and it’s more than just a kiss.

You turn to him, bending until your cheek is pressed to his. “Taehyungie, I love you,” you profess into his ear, lips curled at just how true it is, at how light it makes you feel to say it.

“That’s a relief,” he mumbles, pulling back just enough to give you an indulgent yet chaste kiss, mouthing the words I love you too against your mouth. With a dreamy sigh, he collapses back onto the mattress and bats his eyes up at Jimin. “I hope this confession doesn’t make you too soppy.”

“And why is that?” Jimin asks, a hand lazily running up and down Taehyung’s side, skimming his hip and dipping beneath his shirt to rub his soft stomach.

Arching into the touch like a pleased pet, Taehyung shrugs in mock-innocence. “Y/n and I still need someone to rail us,” he states. “When is mean Minnie going to come out again?”

Jimin’s eyes glint at the prospect, and suddenly you see the expression of the man who originally entered the Villa. The cocksure, unforgiving dom who had you weak at the knees from the start. If it didn’t send a spark of arousal through you, you’d probably be impressed at how naturally he brings it to the surface. “If you’re needing a little discipline, Taehyung, you only have to ask. I won’t be so soft on you next time. I hope you don’t regret it.”

Shameless, Taehyung pouts and whines deep in his throat, wrapping his lower half around where Jimin’s seated. “Well, don’t do it now,” he scolds in a small voice, “it’s not fair making me horny before we go to the hospital. You better fix this.”

The mention of the hospital sobers you all up a bit, but Jimin just furrows his brow down at Taehyung, pushing him flat on his back with a single strong hand, and using that same hand to palm roughly at Taehyung’s crotch, a tent beginning to form in the boxer shorts Tae had worn to bed.

Taehyung keens, but lays back obediently and lets Jimin massage him to full hardness, heavy breaths pushed out of his nose.

“Come on, then,” Jimin says after a moment and removes his hand entirely to stand up, ignoring Taehyung’s indignant gasp, “let’s take a shower and get that little demon back under control. Y/n?”

“It’s not little,” Taehyung grumbles under his breath as he gets up and hobbles toward the bathroom with a visible erection.

You sit up, shaking your head at Jimin’s question. “I want to check on the others when they wake and let them know we’re visiting Yoongi today. Maybe pack some of the leftovers in the fridge so the Min family have some decent food there.”

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, half-turns as if to leave, then freezes, waiting until Taehyung disappears inside the bathroom, turning the shower on with inaudible muttering. “Y/n,” he starts, huffing out a breath and letting his shoulders relax. “I know it’s not only us.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “Huh?”

He sends you a smile, halfway between shared humour and resignation. “You really should tell Yoongi-hyung.”

Before you can process the response, he’s in the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Down in the kitchen, Jin has bet you to the leftovers, bent over the counter with a red-stained pair of chopsticks hovering above the bowl. Mouth full, he puffs his cheeks in a smile of greeting.

You slink behind him to grab a mug for coffee, admiring the broad planes of his shoulder blades beneath a fine knit sweater. “I was going to bring those for the Mins today,” you say with a mock sigh, mind already straining to think of what else you could bring.

Jin is one step ahead of you. Without pausing his chewing, he props himself up on his elbow and points the set of chopsticks at the dining room table, which you didn’t notice is laden with tupperware containers, stocked with different foods. “Couldn’t sleep,” he states after finishing his mouthful. “What time are we heading in?”

You shrug, using the coffee machine to brew a cup entirely on auto-pilot. “Jimin and Taehyung are awake, but I’m not sure about the others. Let’s wait a bit and then check in with Yoongi.”

With a slow nod, Jin carefully sets his chopsticks down, balancing on the brim of the bowl. “You worried me last night,” he admits softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he rebuts without hesitation, turning to offer you his open arms. Abandoning the coffee, you step forward into his embrace, the tension in your muscles loosening the second he tugs you in closer with a strong arm around the small of your back. If he tilts his chin up, he can rest it on the top of your head, and you smother a giggle at the odd feeling of it moving against you as he continues to talk. “All that matters is that you’re okay. Are you okay?”

You melt against his chest, linking your hands around the back of his neck to return the hug. “Mostly,” you say after a moment.

Jin hums, making no move to break apart the hug, and begins to gently rock the two of you back and forth, free hand running lazy figure eights up and down your back. “I’ll take it. Maybe after we visit Yoongi, you’ll be a little more okay.”

“I think so,” you murmur into his sweater. Truth be told, you feel so safe and at peace in Jin’s unhurried embrace that you feel somewhat better already. Closing your eyes to enjoy the slow swaying, you let go of the thought that’s been festering in the back of your mind for a while now. “Does it feel like everything’s falling apart to you? Not- not all at once and dramatic, but like we’re all unraveling on a single thread.”

When Jin sucks in a deep breath, his chest puffs and jostles you slightly. “I understand what you mean. I don’t think it is, though.”

“You don’t?” Suddenly, the snug grip around you loosens, and Jin pulls back to release you from his hold, hands slipping down to link with yours. You miss his warmth immediately, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. “But Yoongi might not come back. And- And I voted you off and now I’ll have to keep voting you off and it just feels worse every time, and it feels like nobody is really doing this just for the competition anymore and... “ You find yourself falling short, unable to articulate your thoughts. Jin waits patiently, his deep brown eyes watching you kindly. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. For everything to turn sour.”

“It might,” Jin admits, gaze darting up and around in thought, until it catches on the coffee machine, sputtering out the last few drops. He squeezes your hands reassuringly before letting them go, and moves over to grab the coffee cup as he continues talking, pouring some milk from the fridge just how you like it. “But then again, it might not. I think focussing on that worry too much will only make it more likely to happen, or will at least prevent you from enjoying the good things to come.”

“Maybe.” You take your coffee from him with a grateful smile, though you’re still not convinced. “How do I just ignore that dread, then?”

Jin leans back against the counter top, shrugging with a thoughtful look on his face. “We have no control over whether Yoongi returns or not. The best we can do is support him through a difficult time. Then, even if he doesn’t come back to the show, I’m sure we’ll stay close. That’s what you really fear, isn’t it? That this house is the only thing tying us together?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, you nod silently. Even hearing Jin say it aloud strikes a note in your heart, and the pang of Yoongi’s absence flares up with it.

The therapist just gives you a warm, genuine smile. “Then I have good news, Y/n. It’s not true. Ask any one of us. The grounds we met may have been set up, but it’s far beyond that now, and I think you feel that yourself, deep down. At the very least, I fully intend to bless you with my companionship for the rest of your life. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite yourself, you let out a surprised laugh, and feel your worries ease. “As long as you still cook for me sometimes,” you bargain, and Jin mock-winces, before reaching out to link your pinky fingers together in promise. “You have a deal,” he declares, moments before you hear a rolling thunder of feet banging down the stairs.

Practically tumbling into the kitchen, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook barrel into each other with heavy breaths. All three have jackets on and are holding pairs of shoes, like they’re ready for a school trip. Jimin and Namjoon join behind them a few moments later, far more calmer than the formers, but are equally dressed-up.

“Guys!” Jungkook pants, hand whirling at the door like he’s directing traffic. “We gotta go!”

“Is Yoongi okay?” you ask immediately, heart skipping a beat at the fearful looks on their faces.

“No,” Taehyung says in a frantic, thick voice, “hyung said the hospital served him plain toast and orange juice for breakfast. With pulp! We gotta get something to him and his family fast, that’s like prison food!”

A heavy breath whooshes out of your lungs, and your body goes weak, nearly tipping your coffee over by the handle. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that! Okay, let me just get my jacket and we can head there. Jin already made some food.”

You’re just reaching the doorway before Namjoon sucks in a dramatic gasp. You turn around to watch him raise a hand to cover his mouth, looking around at all of you.

“How… How are we going to get there? We don’t have a car, and Sejin isn’t here today.”

Jimin’s shoulders sink, and his eyes fall shut in visible pain. “Shit. Then we only have one choice.”

Taehyung frowns and reaches back to rub Jimin’s shoulders in encouragement. “Hey, how bad can it be?”

Jimin stiffens and glares out the window as a beefy stranger in sweaty workout clothes bumps into him after the bus takes a tight left turn. “Hey, hyung?”

Jin, with one hand in his pants pocket and the other on one of the overhead loops, glances up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t suppose you’d have room for one more patient at your practice?”

With a click of his tongue, Jin shakes his head. “You’ll survive, Your Majesty.” The bus hits a road bump at speed, sending the gym rat knocking into Jimin, pinning him against the side of the bus, before using Jimin’s shoulder to catch his balance again. Instead of apologising, the man gives a short laugh and moves back, lifting a hand up to grab onto the bar and exposing the dark sweat stain on his armpit. Jin’s face goes pale. “Tuesdays at seven.”

The professional porn star grits his teeth, staring past Jin’s broad shoulders to the scrolling LED display at the front of the bus, an automated voice announcing the stop in unison to the text running across the screen. “We’re the next stop,” he declares with a shiver of relief. “Come on; I’m heading to the doors.”

With a brute determination, Jimin winds past high school students, office workers and small families alike, collecting you all on the way. Most of you had managed to get seats together or sitting next to strangers, but Jimin and Jin were the last ones to get on (Jimin out of sheer reluctance, Jin because he’d taken on the role of counting heads) and missed out on the luxury of sitting down.

The bus driver truly had no qualms about speeding through the streets of Seoul, shaking the metal carriage from side to side with abandon. It was nothing you weren’t used to, but for Jimin, his first time riding a bus certainly didn’t seem to be a pleasant or tolerable one.

Before long, you’re on steady ground again, breathing in the cool air outside Severance Hospital. Now so close to Yoongi again, you feel anxious to get inside and find him, but Jin insists on double-checking you’re all still in one group. Once he’s satisfied, he leads from behind and you make your way to the front entrance of the massive building.

Inside, the lady at the reception directs you to the cafeteria, where Yoongi said he’d meet you. Secretly relieved that you weren’t going to his father’s hospital room, you make your way there and pick two tables by the windows, pushing them together to make enough room for the eight of you.

Even just counting the eight chairs has your eyes pricking, and you find yourself unable to sit still waiting for Yoongi. A single day feels like a lifetime of anxiety, and even as you and Taehyung watch Jungkook play a game on his phone with running commentary, your gaze keeps darting to the automatic doors every five seconds.

Because of your intense vigilance, it’s you who spots him first, the mop of dirty blonde hair (the mint barely still clinging to the ends) catching your eye the second the doors open.

You get up without words, leaving the group. Noticing your sudden absence, you hear them the moment they see Yoongi waving shyly and tiredly, but you have a few metres advantage, and it’s you who meets him halfway before anyone else.

It’s all you can do to hold yourself back from running in the hospital cafeteria, but by the time you get close enough to see the puffiness under his eyes, you dash the last few steps and wrap him in a tight hug, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

Your heart is racing wildly, and you can feel an unmatched but equally frantic rhythm beat against you too, Yoongi holding onto you just as strongly.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

His voice brings tears to your eyes, harsh and unforgiving, and you have to fight the tremble in your lip to return the sentiment. You feel arms around you from behind, the pressure increasing as the others join the hug. The vulnerable tone of Jungkook, Namjoon’s broad hand on your shoulder, the relieved sigh from Taehyung, Jimin’s deceptively strong body weaving into the center. There’s an absence, still, and you all break apart the group hug after a few moments, seeking the final member out.

To your surprise, Jin is only a step behind you all. Preventing him from joining the hug, however, are the tears wetting his face and blurring his vision, eyes squeezed shut in an unsuccessful attempt to stem the wave of emotion. He sobs silently, breaths uneven and shoulders shaking, trying to wipe his face with clumsy hands but only soaking them too, knuckles pressed to his eyes.

Yoongi lets out a wounded noise, hurrying forward despite him exhaustion. “Hyung, hey, shh, I’m here.” He hooks onto Jin around his waist with one arm and gently tugs one of Jin’s hands away from his reddening face, pressing it to Yoongi’s own cheek in an invitation to look at him. “I’m okay. I’m here now, I’m with you.”

Jin hiccups, visibly fighting to calm down as he blinks through streaming eyes to look down at the younger man. “It wasn’t the same,” he sniffles, “it’s not right without you.” He takes in a single, laboured breath and swallows the thickness in his throat, slowly settling with Yoongi in his arms. “Is your dad okay?”

Yoongi lets out a laugh of disbelief, pulling Jin back towards the tables you’d been waiting at. The rest of you migrate there too, nobody wanting to let Yoongi get too far. “He’s doing fine, actually. Fine for a Min, at least. Near-death experience and he’s already getting my older brother to get him tickets for the Samsung Lions game next week.”

The eight of you sit, finally filling all the chairs the way it should be. Jin takes some tissues from Hoseok’s small satchel to clean up his face, nodding soberly. “That’s really good to hear, Yoongi-ah. All of us were so worried.”

Pressing his lips together in a sad smile, Yoongi looks around at you all. “I was too. I- I really appreciate you all coming in to visit. Dad’s recovering, but… it’s still scary. They’re keeping him here for a bit longer, and after that he’s going to live with my brother for a bit since he lives closer.”

Hoseok, on the other side of Yoongi, leans in for a side hug, pouting. “I can’t even imagine. How are the others holding up?”

“Mom’s doing okay. She’s always been the strongest out of all of us. Yoonji took it really hard. Her and dad have always been the closest. She hasn’t left his bedside since we got here. She says to say hi, though.”

Your heart aches for the poor girl, unable to picture her so despairing after how she’d been in her short time at the Villa. There’s a question on your tongue, but you feel hesitant about bringing it up at the wrong time.

Jungkook, however, has no such concerns, sitting beside you, opposite Yoongi, with bambi eyes. “Does that mean you’re coming back home, hyung?”

Yoongi lets out a small breath at the use of home, and nods after a moment. “Tomorrow, I think. I haven’t talked to Sejin about it yet.”

Jin presses his lips together. “Leave that up to us, Yoongi-ah, just focus on you and your family right now. Oh! That reminds me-” he pushes the bulging grocery bag down the table to Yoongi. “That’s for you all to have. Taehyung told me the food here wasn’t so good.”

“You didn’t have to,” Yoongi breathes, eyes wide as he glances between his hyung and the stacked tupperwares, “but thank you. I’m sure they’ll love your cooking as much as I do.”

“Ah, now you’re laying it on too thick,” Jin deflects with a wave of his hand, though you catch the pink in the tips of his ears. His eyes are still reddened, and when the attention is off him you think you catch his lip tremble a few times, but other than that he seems to have settled down again, relieved just as you are to have Yoongi in your company again.

Jungkook, on the other hand, hasn’t looked away from Yoongi for a single second, eyes wide and focused in as if he might vanish at any moment. The rest of you chat about how strange it is to be outside of the show, and how long ago that first night now feels, but Jungkook offers up nothing. He’s across from Yoongi, Taehyung lazily tugging his hand into his lap and leaning on his shoulder, but even that doesn’t deter his watchful gaze.

It’s not until Yoongi is sharing a story about the horror on his brother’s face when they received their first meal at the hospital that suddenly Jungkook is pitching forward in his seat, elbows crashing on the slightly wobbly cafeteria table. “Hyung!” he blurts, cutting the elder off mid-sentence.

Yoongi’s brows lift in shock, eyes darting to the youngest. “Yeah, Jungkookie?”

“Can I- can we, uh talk in private?” Jungkook swallows, looking smaller and more vulnerable than usual, wearing a zip-up hoodie that’s entirely too big for him and with his hair tucked behind his ears. After Yoongi acquiesces, the two disappear down a hall that leads to a private outdoor smoking area, leaving the remaining six of you in confused silence.

“What was that all about?” Hoseok asks after a moment, glancing back and forth at all of you. “Did I miss something?”

“I think we all missed something,” Namjoon responds quietly, equally befuddled. “Jungkook did seem pretty distressed.”

Taehyung, without a shoulder to lean on, sits up and tries to bury his worries. “Let’s just wait and see what happens when they get back. If it’s important, I’m sure they’ll tell us, right?”

“Maybe they’re just re-enacting The Bachelor,” Jin theories, “if Jungkook comes back with a single rose, be suspicious.” He pauses, eyes narrowed in thought. “Or Yoongi’s fly was down and Jungkook didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everyone. There are too many variables here.”

“They could be planning a surprise birthday party for one of us,” Hoseok offers up.

“Or one of us has been replaced by an alien and Yoongi is the only one Jungkook can trust,” Taehyung suggests, voice wary.

“Or they’re elo-” Jimin cuts himself off, head darting to the side. “Oh, here they come. Yeah, they definitely just eloped.”

The two guilty parties are doing a miserable job of playing casual. As they approach the table again, Yoongi is in front with red cheeks and bright eyes, surreptitiously pressing his lips together, and Jungkook is trailing behind with a hand fisted in the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt, unable to contain his grin.

“So…” Hoseok trails off meaningfully, beaming at the two of them. “When’s the honeymoon?”

Jungkook’s smile drops, replaced by genuine confusion. “Huh?”

Hoseok blinks. “Didn’t you two just-?”

“Just what?” Shaking off his frown, Jungkook cheers up again. “Hyung is letting me stay in the hospital overnight!”

“What?” you blurt out incredulously, not expecting that to be the reasoning for the strange meeting.

“I’ve never stayed overnight before,” Jungkook gushes, feet tapping on the floor tile in excitement, “and I read somewhere that the fourth floor is haunted. But you need to either be the one in hospital or be family for them to let you stay. Yoongi’s gonna vouch for me and say I’m his brother.”

“In exchange for…” Yoongi starts emphatically, eyes intense and serious.

Jungkook huffs, but it doesn’t dampen his obvious thrill. “In exchange for buying Yoongi lamb skewers from the restaurant down the street tonight and tomorrow morning. What a deal, right?”

Taehyung perks up, eyes wide. “Wait, can I stay too? I wanna see the ghosts!”

“There are no ghosts in the-” Jin begins with a sigh, but Jungkook interrupts, placing a gentle hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” he murmurs softly, “but the doctors would never believe you’re one of the Mins. You’re too hot.”

Yoongi’s mouth drops open in apparent offense, before he cocks his head to the side. “You do realise you’re also insulting yourself, right, Jungkook?”

“Listen, that’s not important now,” Jungkook insists simply. “Tae-tae-hyung, I promise I’ll facetime you from the fourth floor. Be ready for the witching hour.”

Taehyung swallows in reverence and nods. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, pinching his brow. “What have I signed up for?”

By the time conversation naturally starts to die off, your social batteries draining, it’s time for Yoongi (and Jungkook, apparently) to go back up to the room for dinner. The remaining six of you make your way home on the bus with distinctly less fanfare than when you arrived, all a little exhausted from the onslaught of public spaces after being in the Villa for so long.

It’s weird how tiring it is just being in society, even when you weren’t really interacting with anyone else. But everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief when you let yourselves in the front door and collapse in the living room inside, Jin making some coffee and the rest of you taking a moment to rest your weary feet.

The absence is still felt, even more so with Jungkook gone too, but it’s far less distressing. Instead, the quiet is a little calming, like a lazy day in after a stressful week. Jimin and Taehyung head upstairs early, and you let them go alone, sensing they’re wanting some time to themselves.

Downstairs, Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon and you spread out on two couches, cradling hot mugs to wake you up a little. It’s easy enough to sit in silence for a bit, but then Hoseok is sitting up, biting on his lip.

“If Yoongi-hyung is coming back tomorrow,” he starts softly, “then what does that mean for all of this? Do we just… start it back up? The competition, I mean.”

“I guess so,” you venture. “But we can’t exactly start a week on a Friday. Maybe Sejin will wait for Monday?”

“Eh, it’s all the same to me,” Jin quips. “Not much skin in the game anymore, huh?”

A flash of guilt strikes your face as you recall only days ago the way he’d been so blindsided by your elimination. It was hard to say if you regretted the decision; you’d originally hoped taking the competition out of the equation would make things simpler, but the fallout that followed and the unsteady peace between the two of you doesn’t really feel worth it. Despite that, there was no easy choice, and for all you know the exact thing could happen with whoever you vote out. You just wish you had some conviction for it.

Jin notices your expression and frowns, but before he can open his mouth, Namjoon pitches in. “I’m kind of dreading going back to it,” he admits, scratching at his knee through a small hole in his pants, “but at the same time I wish we could go back to it already. At least it was consistent. This whole break just makes me anxious.”

“It definitely isn’t fun,” Hoseok supports, sending Namjoon a reassuring smile. “But hyung said he’s coming back tomorrow, and Sejin has been good to us so far. Let’s have some faith that it’ll turn out fine!”

You bite down hard on your tongue. Even if it turns out fine, there’s only so much time you’ll have before you’ll have to boot another man out of the running of the game. Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jungkook or Namjoon. Despite everyone feeling that your bond is stronger than just circumstance, you know it’s impossible not to take that decision personally, and you’re dreading going back to it.

Though, deep down - and it flares that guilt even stronger to think of it - part of you is growing restless, fidgety at having suddenly been deprived of the physical pleasures you’d grown used to receiving in such abundance. It’s only been two days, and you feel stupid for even noting your body’s yearning after such a short time, but it’s nonetheless there, and at least if you went back on schedule, you’d be able to indulge again.

Things felt so somber and serious when all you had were those swirling emotions, and no way to release them. But it feels wrong to even think about pursuing anything when the whole status of the group is on rocky footing.

“You’re thinking too hard.” The voice tugs you unceremoniously out of your haze with a gentle shove to accompany it. Jin, sitting beside you, has scooted closer to eye you with a warm albeit slightly concerned gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

“Everything,” you admit, and Namjoon makes a noise of agreement from the other couch. Hoseok has an arm slung over his shoulders, and you blink in surprise at the casual contact the two of them are sharing. Neither of them have seemed to be the touchy type since you’ve met them, but they appear perfectly comfortable. You make a mental note to keep an eye on them, but it quickly dissolves in your brain the moment Jin puts a hand on your knee and gently squeezes it.

“Hey,” he buffs in a low voice, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah? You boys up to join? It’s still warm out.”

“We’ll head up,” Hoseok says after a glance shared with Namjoon, “it’s been a long day.”

“That it has.” Jin squeezes your knee once more and gets up as the two others heave themselves off the couch and thud upstairs. Holding out a hand to you, the eldest helps you up and leads you out back, linking your arms tightly and walking side-by-side with you out the back door.

The stars are blocked from view by cloud, but the moon provides enough waxy light to see by, the grass glinting silver. Like two lovers from a Jane Austen book taking a turn around a room, the two of you begin a lap around the expansive backyard, following the path.

“This feels very cheesy,” you admit to Jin, glancing up at him with a bemused smile. If you’re honest with yourself, the distinct oddity of wandering around a lawn late at night for no apparent reason is enough to distract you from your worries.

Jin returns your smile broadly, and presses you a little closer to his side. “All the more fun, don’t you think? The cameras aren’t even on. We can actually enjoy the privacy for once.”

You sigh out filaments of tension with every breath, the cooler night air easing your lungs. “That’s true. I haven’t actually come out here often.”

“I noticed. Afraid of the sun?”

“Oh, please,” you defend, “if either of us is a vampire it’s clearly you.”

Taking a few, quiet steps, Jin hums calmly, then suddenly lunges for your throat. A startled yelp leaves you as his face buries in the crook of your neck, and your shoulders rise up to wiggle away from the cold tip of his nose. “St-ah-stop!”

He pulls back, satisfied at his own joke and how effectively it caught you by surprise, but the adrenaline from the sudden fright has you giggling hopelessly, using your free hand to press against your mouth.

“Oh my god, you’re so mean,” you whine, but there’s only playful pouting in your tone, no real malice.

Jin clicks his tongue, entirely unruffled as if he’d never launched himself at you. “What can I say? Daddy is getting old, I think I’d prefer being called Sire.”

You splutter on air, reaching over to whack him. “Be careful what you wish for. I know several kinky little shits in this house that would take you up on that.”

“Strange,” Jin muses, “that you seem to think you’re not one of them.” He sends a smirk down at you, but as you stare up at him too, the gaze softens. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t make those jokes when we can’t actually- Never mind.”

Without intending to, you come to a stop, stepping across from him so you can see him head-on. “The cameras aren’t on,” you point out. “The show is paused.”

Jin’s brows come together, his lids lowering. “Y/n…”

“We could. Not even the- the whole kinky thing, just…” You bite down on your tongue at the reluctance on Jin’s face. “If you wanted to.”

He exhales raggedly, stepping closer and placing his broad hands on the sides of your shoulders. “Of course I want to,” he says, enunciating each word with intentioned care, “but you voted me off, Y/n.”

A chill runs through you, though the air is unchanged. “But Jin, the- we aren’t- that doesn’t matter, the show isn’t even-”

“I understand that,” he allows, closing his eyes briefly with a slight shake of the head, “but I’m going to respect your decision, even if you don’t. I want to do this the right way.”

Your heart sinks, unable to be mad even as humiliation stings your cheeks red. “I don’t even know when the show will end, it could be longer because of this break.”

“And I’m a patient man,” Jin states. You can feel the finality in the air. His choice wasn’t going to change, and you no longer have the energy to try. Instead, you just nod silently, missing the atmosphere only five minutes ago when you hadn’t put yourself on the line and gotten rejected.

His hands on your shoulders feel hot, anchoring you, and acknowledging them only makes your eyes prick more, wishing you could feel his whole body against you again. Knowing that you - god, that you loved him - and that he felt strongly about you too, but that you’d voted him out just to make things easier… It didn’t feel easy now. It didn’t feel worth it now.

“I think it’s time for me to go to bed now,” you say hollowly. You can’t imagine sleep will come kindly, but you feel the desire to be alone and bury yourself deep under the covers until morning. Perhaps longer.

Before you can pull away, Jin leans in, and your heart stops.

With eyes fluttering closed instinctively, you feel lips press chastely, but meaningfully against your cheekbone, before a soft whisper wishes you goodnight.

When he stands up again, you open your eyes and blink harshly, willing the pooling tears not to fall before you’re out of his sight. Emotion is swelling and crashing inside you like a storm at sea, and all you can manage is to choke out, “that’s not fair,” before you’re rushing across the grass, uncaring if your socks get dirty or stained, and barreling up the stairs with tears rendering your vision useless.

#tgm #the gentlemen #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jin x reader #ot7 x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #vmin fanfic #yoonkook fanfic #yoonjin fanfic

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Note

If you are still writing 14?

Okay so this one accidentally went from a drabble to an actual fic whoops. The cure is totally inspired by the Rapunzel fairy tale, spoiler alert, where the prince falls in the thorn bushes around the tower and Rapunzel’s tears fall into his eyes, curing him.

14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

wc: 4444 which is an awesome number I’m so happy lol

Robbed Blind

Someone botches a spell to steal Jaskier’s artistic vision and he’s cursed with blindness. Thankfully, he falls into the company of Ciri and Lambert. They journey safely to Kaer Morhen, but what could be the cure to his affliction?

She had found him, tripping over the strings of destiny, in Drakenborg. He’d been on his way to Oxenfurt when the curse took hold, and he had gone no further. Jaskier was haggard, gaunt, and looked quite worn. His hair lay flat from constant fussing. It was a habit Ciri remembered well from his visits, always combing a nervous hand through his hair before a performance. She had never seen it look so lifeless. He needed a mirror, she thought. She would soon realize that a mirror would serve him no purpose.

He was blind. He startled when she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. She’d been so relieved to see a friendly face that she’d run right into his arms, nearly knocking him from the stool in the corner of the tavern. Why should he not catch her as he’d always done? He’d been looking directly at her; she thought he’d merely not recognized her beneath the mud and hood.

“Let me go! Who are you? Stop—stop this now or I’ll give you such a wallop, I’ll—!”

“Jaskier!” Ciri cried, shocked. She flinched away from him as he elbowed her roughly against her temple. She rubbed the spot, standing out of reach.

Jaskier straightened up at once. “Is that—? Little cub, is that you?” he asked. He turned his head as if searching for her and reached out a hand, feeling the air. It was nowhere near.

Ciri took his hand. During their long weeks of travel, she refused to let it go again. She became his eyes, and together they started for Oxenfurt and the safety of its halls.

He’d woken up blind one day, he explained. No warning or explanation. The mage had told him what magic was at play. Someone had tried to steal his artistic vision and the enchantment had gone wrong, stealing from him his very sight.

“Is there not a cure?” Ciri asked.

Jaskier shook his head. “The mage said it was a botched spell. There’s no telling what will fix it, only that it must have something to do with artistic vision. The mage suggested it might be cured by the old methods: kisses and the like; gazing upon true beauty.”

He squinted and took her face between his hands. “I’m looking and looking at you as hard as I can, and I remember you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen when you were first born. So what do mages know? Have you become a pox-faced adolescent or scraggly Medusa? Ah,” he chuckled, “but you’d still be a fairytale princess in my eyes if you had the face of a basilisk.”

She laughed and squirmed out of his hands. “You were always very good at Blind Man’s Bluff. Do you remember when we used to play it? Back then, you were always stumbling; you aren’t stumbling as much anymore.”

“I’ve grown used to it, I suppose. But you are a princess—do you suppose a kiss from you might cure me? How are you with frogs? Ever wake a sleeping prince?”

“No, but we may try it. There’s magic in me of a sort, I know. Here, kneel a moment.”

Jaskier knelt on the dry road and closed his eyes, tapping the lid. “Right here. Give it a go,” he said encouragingly. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll practice on a frog and work our way up.”

Ciri kissed both eyes to be sure. “Alright. Open them. Do you see anything?”

She tried not to get her hopes up, watching Jaskier squeeze his eyes tight. He opened them, blinked several times, and gave her a sad smile.

“Not to worry, we’ll find a pond in no time,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light.

“Well! I go to find a cat and find a lioness instead. And a songbird. Must be my lucky day.”

Ciri put herself between the stranger and Jaskier, waving a large branch in warning. “Keep away,” she growled. “If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”

The scruffy man put his hands up and grinned. “I’ve heard what sort of screaming runs in your family. Trust me, I would rather not be around for one of them. Heard it knocked pretty boy flat on his back at your mother’s little Surprise party.”

Jaskier put a hand on Ciri’s shoulder. “Wait a moment,” he said. “I know that moniker. Geralt complained of it before.” He was quiet a moment, stirring up a memory. Then, he lit up, asking excitedly, “Did you say you were looking for a cat? A cat witcher, by chance?”

“Why? Find one up a tree?” the stranger pressed.

Jaskier patted Ciri’s shoulder and strode forward, extending a hand. “You must be Lambert! I’ve heard—” his hand buckled against Lambert’s chest, his stride clearing the distance too quickly “—oh, my apologies. I’ve heard about you before. I was hoping to see you under better circumstances if I ever got the chance. Or to see you at all, really. Damnable timing.”

Lambert looked at him, then took his hand. Ciri watched as the understanding settled in, for Jaskier was staring straight at the man’s forehead, a near lucky guess of his eye line. Lambert wore an expression of pity freely, knowing Jaskier could not see it, though his tone was light and cocky as before. “I always wondered what you saw in that sourpuss, following him as long as you did; now I know you didn’t see anything after all,” he joked.

Jaskier snorted. “It’s new.”

“Ah, so you’ve been blinded by love, have you?”

Jaskier flapped his hand until he felt the brush of Ciri’s sleeve at his side, then he tugged her forward and presented her. He cleared his throat, a tad flushed. “May I introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra. Geralt’s child Surprise.”

Ciri tossed her branch aside. “You know Geralt,” she said.

“They’re brothers.”

Lambert sneered. “He got all the looks, Eskel got the talent, but I got the brains.”

“What little there were to be had,” Jaskier added.

“Oh, ho! You’ll fit right in at the keep, talking like that.”

There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Jaskier nudged Ciri gently forward. “She’ll be safe there. And her wit is more cutting than mine.”

Ciri turned at once to protest. “But what about Ox—”

“And so would you,” Lambert cut in. “A dull knife and a dull wit can be sharpened, and I’d rather keep two knives in my belt than one, whatever their make. Don’t start that maudlin shit with me; you’re coming along.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to protest and Lambert raised a hand. Then, realizing how ineffective that was against one who could not see it, he recovered and smacked the side of Jaskier’s head to shut him up before he started.

“Come on; it’s a long and dull road we have ahead of us, and you’re my entertainment. I want to hear every embarrassing story you can supply. I’ve long run out of blackmail and I’m in need of fresh material. Besides, what better bait for a cat than a twittering bird? If you sing loud enough, we might pick him up along the way.”

They were all together in the great hall when at last he came. The figure stood in the doorway, a black dot against the stark white of winter outside. A pair of bags dropped with a thundering bang upon the floor, the sound echoing throughout the room, and the figure bundled up by the fire started awake in fright.

Jaskier patted the blanket beside him, made frantic by his sudden awakening. “Ciri? Ciri!” he called, for she had been asleep next to him what seemed only moments ago.

She paused only a moment to stare at the imposing figure in the light. Something in her shouted, compelling her to go to him. But Jaskier called for her in that voice wrought with panic once more. She flew from the circle of wolves to his side, abandoning her hand of cards, disregarding the man of destiny at the door.

“I’m here,” she said, taking his hands. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always. I’m not going anywhere.” She and the others looked at each other, looked at Geralt, and said not a word.

Jaskier settled and took a deep breath. “I heard something crash. I dreamed—but never mind that.” He sighed, pressing his head to their joined hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s safe here. I’m just not used to you wandering off just yet.”

“I know.” She stroked his hair gently. It was soft again, though not as silky as before. Lambert and Eskel had drawn him a bath for the first time in a long while, but he had not his customary soaps and oils. He was … less bright, his appearance dulled with his mood.

Vesemir had examined him. Countless hours, the wolves had huddled together in the old library, trying to find a cure for Jaskier’s condition to no avail. As time went by, the reality of his situation weighed on Jaskier. He could no longer read his notebook, nor write his music to be remembered. Ciri read his notes aloud and studied the art so she might transcribe them for him, but it was obvious how he felt.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he’d said.

And now he gave her that same false smile, the one that failed to meet his eyes. She missed the lines in the corners and wished they might come back. Perhaps they’d flown off with the crows, frightened of the winter snow.

“Go back to your game,” he whispered. “I’ll head up to bed.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she offered.

He shook his head. “I know the way now. If someone will take me to the stairwell?” he prompted, raising a hand.

Ciri looked at Geralt. There was so little she knew of him—stories and songs … words spared in rumors and stolen from conversations where she lingered unnoticed to listen. What she knew of the wolf and bard she had pieced together with care. For all the tales Jaskier would tell, he would not disparage Geralt before her, and he would not tell the story of the dragon hunt. But dwarves talk. Stories travel and lesser bards would imitate the songs of greater. Witchers collect news of other witchers, and two adults would speak as adults when ale made easy speech. Jaskier had confided in Lambert those tearing words once flung at him upon the mountain. And thus she had put the final piece into place of the great mystery between them.

‘If life could give me one blessing…’

“Who will take him?” she asked. She kept Geralt’s eyes as she rose to her feet. “Who will take him into his hands?”

It was only the barest movement, but she swore she saw the wolf of legend flinch.

Jaskier sat up with a huff. “You make it sound so dramatic. Are we playing at a quest now? Very well, who is my knight errant? The princess has thus decreed a quest is in order: a quest up the perilous tower steps, my-my! Such a task!”

“I should think a white knight is the one suited best for the task,” Vesemir grunted. He shuffled his hand, eyes narrowed at Geralt.

The white knight in question let his cloak fall. He shook the snow from his arms and dusted them slowly, looking at each watching face in turn. His hesitation was clear. When none moved to claim Jaskier, he stepped forward cautiously. Without a word, he took Jaskier’s hand and lifted him to his feet.

Jaskier clapped an arm around his shoulder, hands patting the edge of his long hair. “Ah, thank you, Vesemir,” he said. His hand slipped from Geralt’s armour and he made a face, flicking his wet hand in the air. He prodded the armour curiously. “You’re soaked; I thought you said you’d sent Eskel for the firewood.” He prodded again and bumped against Geralt’s shoulder pad. He pinched it between his fingers, figuring out its shape. He hummed curiously. “What are you wearing? Did you go hunting?”

Geralt stared. Jaskier was not looking at him. Geralt looked at the circle of men by the fireside and there sat Vesemir in silence, watching. He was struck dumb. What … game was this?

“A knight needs a knight’s armour,” Lambert called.

Jaskier laughed. “Oh, of course. Such a soft touch; did you get all dressed up for Ciri? Have I woken in the middle of a game?”

Eskel tossed a card in the middle of the circle. “Yes,” he answered, “but we’ve just started on another, different game.”

“Very cold and calculated,” Ciri agreed.

“Cold and calculated. So a snowball fight has become a snowball war, no doubt born of the most complicated strategies. Shame on the lot of you. You ought to let your elders warm themselves before sending them on tasks. You’re young; you’ve got legs,” Jaskier scolded.

“It was his idea,” Eskel replied.

Vesemir nodded, keeping silent as the game unravelled.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt’s and stood straight and tall in an affected manner. “Come, my good knight,” he said, “and let us bid good night to these slacking youths.”

He started to walk in the general direction of the stair, Geralt turning them with truer aim. Geralt looked over his shoulder at the others, frowning. This was not the sort of confrontation he expected when next he saw Jaskier. If he ever saw him. And here was his child Surprise in their midst without a word of greeting or explanation, and the bard, the two of them together and settled within the walls of the keep.

It was too perplexing for him to puzzle out. And Jaskier was acting strangely. Where were his speeches? Geralt had expected him to argue on sight, or else to pretend all was right and greet him, “Geralt! How good to see you,” or, “Fancy meeting you here,” and play off the mountain like it never happened. Or at the very least to ignore him. But to call him Vesemir and take to his arm? What joke was he playing at?

The answer came as Jaskier dodged the first step and nearly fumbled upon the stair. He clung to Geralt’s arm with a cry and his other hand shot out to grope the wall. He flailed for it, feeling his way from the step outward, then sliding his hand up the side of it. He turned his head, looked at Geralt and laughed. “I’m still not used to these uneven steps,” he said. “Give me time and I’ll be able to find my way around unassisted. By next week, I’ll be able to navigate every pool in the hot springs, then you four will never see me fully dressed again!”

Geralt raised a hand to Jaskier’s face. He rested a thumb just beneath his eye. They were as blue as ever, nothing seemed amiss, and yet …

Jaskier’s smile weakened. He closed his eyes and pushed the hand away. “I know the three of you are working hard to find a cure. I know the jokes fall flat. But I must make them. If I don’t … Vesemir, if I can’t make light of it, the darkness I see will be all I have left.”

He turned toward the stair again, hand firm on Geralt’s arm, the other on the wall. “Right then. Up we go. Just one at a time,” he said. He stepped tentatively forwards, prodding his foot before him until he nudged the base of the first step. “Got it. First is always hardest, isn’t it?”

They carried on. Two steps, three, one after the other slowly. They were uneven by design: a final defense against those who would try to invade their stronghold. The spiral stair favored those who walked it every day, gave advantage to the men who would be at the top, swinging their swords to fight back those who would dare trespass unwitting. It was difficult enough for any stranger with sight. With Jaskier, it was a quest in itself.

Midway up, Geralt thought to carry him. They were going so slowly; it would have been easiest that way. He nearly offered, but stopped. If he spoke, Jaskier would know him. He began to reach an arm out to simply lift him, but Jaskier fumbled once more, his knee hitting the step with a mumbled curse. And Geralt heard him muttering through his teeth as he crouched upon the stair.

“I will learn,” he hissed. “This will not stop me. I refuse to be a burden to anyone. Never again.” He touched his forehead to the step and Geralt put a hand to his back. He was trembling.

When Jaskier rose again, he did not take Geralt’s arm. He reached out and took hold of the wall on either side, arms stretched wide to hold himself up. He proceeded to climb the stair alone. When Geralt reached out to help, Jaskier waved him away.

“No,” he whispered. “We’re nearly at the top. Just let me do this much. Please.”

And Geralt let his hand fall away.

Jaskier reached the landing with a powerful stomp, expecting a final step. He breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the right wall. Geralt followed behind and patted his shoulder. Small congratulations. From there, Jaskier walked down the corridor, tapping when he came upon a wooden door. He passed three, tapped each with his knuckles, counting. When he reached the forth door, he opened it. In this space, he walked with ease away from the wall. He flopped confidently upon the bed and rested a moment as one does after a long journey.

He shucked off his doublet and loosened the laces of his boots. He set these aside at the very foot of the bed where they might easily be found again. He undid the back lace of his trousers, paused, and inclined his head toward the door.

“Are you still there, Vesemir?” he asked.

Geralt did not know how to respond. He stood fixed in the doorway, but dropped his eyes to his feet modestly. After a moment’s wait, Jaskier finished undressing and climbed beneath the heavy furs. A memory stirred—that was not the final task of the evening. What was the last of their routine each night? What was left undone that made this finality seem so abrupt? Geralt realized it in the darkness of the room. He had no candle to blow out.

The truth struck Geralt sharp as a blade to his gut. He stole through the door, walking quietly toward the bed. He sat on the edge, the furs rumpled beneath him, and listened to Jaskier’s breathing. He was not yet asleep—would never be, so soon—but he did not stir.

Geralt took his hand gently.

Jaskier squeezed it back.

“I only wish that had not been the last I’d seen of him,” Jaskier whispered. “I try to remember his smile now. For all my poetry, I can’t remember it clearly. His smiles were so rare, but I don’t suppose you need me to tell you. Or perhaps you do. I don’t know if he smiled here; I know nothing his life in this place. Were you so fortunate that they were commonplace?”

Silent footsteps creeped up the stair. Ciri had waited long enough to follow. Geralt heard no sign of her under the ringing words of Jaskier’s speech. Though he spoke no louder than the breath of the wind, every last syllable echoed like a clap of thunder in his ears.

Jaskier slipped his hand free and turned on his pillow, hugging it close. “I wish I might at least see Ciri now, know how she’s grown. They change so quickly at that age. Does she look like her mother? Does she look like him? Destiny makes strange things of those it touches. She was beginning to look like him, I once thought.”

She saw him well enough, looking through the open door. She crouched behind the wall, listening as she always did in secret, for the things he would not burden her with.

“I always did wonder what you looked like. Geralt spoke once to me of his brothers, his mentor. You’re still stories to me in ways. I know you have long hair, grey with age. I know Lambert is shorn, Eskel is shaggy. I know your voices, your height, and a hundred other things. But do you share his eyes? What color is the armour you wear? How does the sun set over the mountainside? The carpets before the hearth—what pattern is woven there? What thousands of stories do you keep in that library? What do the monsters look like illustrated in the great bestiary?”

He buried his face in his pillow. His voice was muffled, but both Geralt and Ciri could hear the husk in it. “I won’t feel sorry for myself. It doesn’t mean anything—just idle curiosity. It doesn’t matter how the carpet is woven or if you wear brown shirts or red. I’ve seen a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets and stars. I don’t want them!” he barked. He writhed on the bed, his face falling from the pillow, stained with tears. “I don’t! I never needed them, not one! I don’t care—I don’t! None of them are important!”

Geralt rushed forward and took Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier struggled, beating at his chest, and refused to be coddled. “No!” he wailed. “Don’t comfort me, I don’t need it! I don’t want it! I will not be pitied!” But for his hard words, he clung to Geralt’s armour, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s unnecessary. It’s just a bunch of poetry. Useless poetry and songs.”

Jaskier pulled away, Geralt’s hands trailing from his back to his shoulders as he sat up. Geralt held him there before he could retreat more. Before he could think twice of it, Geralt leaned in, his hands cupping Jaskier’s face on either side.

“Vese—”

Something warm and wet fell onto Jaskier’s lashes. He heard a shaky breath, felt the warmth of it upon his face. Another hot tear fell into his other eye and he blinked in surprise, for it was not his own. He sat perfectly still in shock, blinking the falling tears away.

“They were never useless,” Geralt said. “They were always important—all of them.”

Jaskier twitched, raising his head by instinct up to look at the man who held him now. “You were—!”

“I’m sorry. For not speaking before. For … not speaking then. After. And for saying what I did that day.” He wiped the tears beneath Jaskier’s eyes away, an expression of pain twisting his hollowed features. “If I’d not sent you away—I don’t know what’s become of you, but I might have—I could have tried to prevent it. You would still have your sight.”

Jaskier covered Geralt’s hands. “No, Geralt. This is none of your doing. You can’t—”

A loud bump from the hall startled him. Jaskier turned at once to look.

“Ciri,” he breathed.

Ciri had a finger to her mouth and was glaring up at a tall man. They both cowed back, being caught. Jaskier looked between them as Geralt’s hands slipped away. He stood, walking toward them. He looked at Ciri, gaping, their eyes perfectly aligned. Jaskier fell to his knees before her and took her hands without fumbling.

“Ciri,” he said. “You’re so … my good gods, you’ve grown.”

All were still as he reached out, touching her face as though she were made of glass. He smoothed her hair away, taking all of her in. He laughed, new tears falling as he pulled her close and crushed her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful!” he cried. He stroked her hair, cradling her against him as tight as he dared. “And you!” He looked up at the witcher in the hall, reaching out to him and taking his hand. “Which one are you? Say something now, quickly. Let me hear your voice and know you.”

“Eskel,” he answered. And then Jaskier was up on his feet, pulling him into another embrace.

“Eskel!” Jaskier cheered. “Eskel, you look even more heroic than I ever imagined! Oh, let me look at you. Oh, oh! Lambert! Vesemir! Where are you, come forward!”

He dashed into the hall, only to turn on his heel for another look at Eskel, for just one more eyeful of Ciri. Over her shoulder, he saw Geralt sitting there on the bed, his yellow eyes wide, the tears still clinging to his chin.

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered. “Oh, I see. I see.”

He walked forward, gliding a hand beneath Geralt’s jaw. He touched his eyes with his other hand. Carefully, he wiped the last of Geralt’s tears away. It dangled, a little drop at the tip of his finger and he brought it close. He closed his hands around it, cradled them to his chest.

Geralt stood slowly before him. And he smiled.

Ciri tugged at Jaskier’s shirt, her head turned away politely. She cleared her throat and said, “Jaskier? Lambert and Vesemir are on their way up. And you’re … well, you’re not at your most presentable.”

Eskel averted his eyes, his back turned to the scene, however touching. “You might want to get a bit more dressed. And quickly,” he added, for Jaskier was standing in his smallclothes.

Jaskier snorted. “All of you, turn away for decency’s sake! We’re having a moment, here.”

“And what about me?” Geralt asked. “Shall I look away?”

It was nothing but empty jest and Jaskier smiled. “No,” he replied. “No, you’re looking where you’re needed. But I suppose to be fair …”

He clapped a hand over Geralt’s eyes. He leaned forward, whispering against Geralt’s lips. “There. Now no one can see. No one … but me.”

There were no witnesses to that first kiss. It was a secret Jaskier kept for himself.

However, the second, third, and forth had quite a startled audience, as Geralt and Jaskier both fell deaf to the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Ciri took it upon herself to usher the others from the room, explaining on the way. After all, with the curse lifted, she no longer needed to be Jaskier’s eyes. His mouth, however, was currently occupied.

Send me a drabble prompt!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #lambert #eskel #vesemir #I'd tag aiden but he's really only mentioned in passing #ew I came back to look at this and the scene breaks did not transfer over #fixed it now

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bimb0beee · 4 years

Text

stay with me.

suna x y/n

in which youve liked suna for years, suna is a tsundere, and tsukishima is a little shit.

includes tsukiyama, best friends tsuki & yamaguchi, mentioned miya twins, tsukishima is a shit stirrer and we love him for it.

warnings: smut, public funking, big cock suna, stupid suna, a little spit, uhhhhh, also my fics are never beated all mistakes are my own 🥴

wc: 4.1k

The first time you saw Suna Rintaro was at nationals. He was easily one of the prettiest boys you have ever seen. All you wanted to do was introduce yourself to him, but seeing as how they lost to Karasuno… you didn't think he'd give the time of day to a student there.

You debated following him on his socials… but ultimately went against it.

There was no way he'd be interested in you anyway.

The second time you saw Suna Rintaro, you were eating lunch with Kei and Tadashi.

You were midchew listening intently to Tadashi's story when you looked up and saw him.

He was walking with his friends, the twins, and you started choking.

Kei glanced at you while Tadashi fussed to make sure you weren’t dying.

He also happened to glance in the direction you were looking and saw the reason for your sudden choking.

“Y/n, oh my god, are you okay??”

“Tadashi, she's fine. She just so happened to see her four year crush.”

You punched him in his stupid gut.

The third time you saw Suna he was in one of your classes. Along with one of the twins. The one with yellow hair… What was his name again?

You were seated near the back, always keen on avoiding human interaction if you could.

And, of course, they both decided to sit directly in front of you.

Not that they paid you any attention.

Which was fine.

Until your professor told the class they should get someone elses contact information.

Since you were alone, and no one was near you except for Suna and Miya, you had no choice but to give it to Miya when he asked.

“Yo, I’m Atsumu! This is Suna.”

You looked up at, ah his name is Atsumu, Atsumu and smiled shyly.

“Hey! I’m Y/n…”

You took a chance at Suna but he's looking at his phone, not even bothering to give you another glance.

Unknown to you, he was already looking at you, but decided to look away before he got caught by either you or Atsumu.

You offered up your email and number to Atsumu, looking over to see if Suna wanted to as well.

He didn't even look at you, which may or may not have bummed you a bit, but you decided it was better this way.

You and Atsumu exchanged at least which was better than nothing, you suppose.

From then on, you and Atsumu became fast friends. You would try to talk to Suna, but he would just grunt at you or not even bother answering. So you gave up on trying. Which kind of fucking sucked, but if he wanted to be a prick, then you wouldnt bother with that.

Has your crush dwindled? No, of course not.

Atsumu was always talking about Suna and the stuff they were up to and he seemed so wonderful, so it sucked that he wouldnt even look at you.

You're crying about Suna to Kei and Tadashi; you're so distracted you don't even notice them walking in.

But Kei does, and right before you say his name he decides to be nice and cut you off.

“Shut up. Look who’s here.”

You look to glare at Kei and then you look up and, oh my god, of course it's him.

Suna and the Miya twins.

Atsumu notices you and starts walking over to you excitedly like a little puppy.

As annoying as he is, it's so endearing, you can't help but love him.

“Hey, Y/n!”

“Oh, hey Atsumu. Whats up?” You crinkle your eyes at him and in the most subtle way a tick appears in Suna’s eyebrow.

No one notices, except Kei.

He mentally grins.

“Oh, this is my brother! Osamu! We’re twins!”

You laugh and Kei puts his arm around you.

“Wow, really? I would've never guessed.”

You slap your hand on Kei’s leg and tell him to be nice.

He turns to whisper in your ear, “Leave your hand there. I'm testing a theory.”

You look at him with a question in your eyes but decide to listen anyway. Let him have his fun.

“I didn't know you had a boyfriend,” someone who definitely isn't Atsumu says.

You look up, why is Suna talking to you?

“Hmm?” You're staring at him curiously and then he just stalks off.

Atsumu starts to cackle. “What the fuck. He doesn't talk to you at all and then says that shit?”

“Y-yeah. What the hell was that about?”

Osamu is looking at you with sparkles in his eyes and you're about to ask what that means when he's suddenly walking away, “Sorry, gotta go and make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt himself! It was nice meeting you, Y/n.”

“You too…?”

Atsumu catches up to them to see what the fuck that was about.

They're sitting on a bench outside and Atsumu walks up to them trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that, Suna? I thought you didn't like her!”

“I don't.” He rolls his eyes, but there's a faint blush to his cheeks.

“Oh my god. You fucking like her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tsumu.”

“LMFAO.”

“Atsumu, why the fuck did you just say that out loud?”

“Suna, you’re such a fucking tsundere. Why don't you just talk to her, idiot?”

“Why would I do that, when she clearly has a boyfriend?”

“Well, Rin, you didn't even let her answer before you stormed off. Maybe if you actually talked to her, you might find out the truth.”

Suna blinks at Osamu and gives a gentle smile.

“This is why you're my favorite twin.”

“Fuck you, Suna. You can't even talk to the person you like.”

“What the fuck was that. Kei? What the fuck was that?”

You're kind of having a little breakdown. Why did Suna randomly ask that, out of absolutely nowhere. He doesn't give you the time of day, then all of a sudden asks if you have a boyfriend? In what universe is Suna Rintaro living?

Kei is smirking.

“Babe, I think Suna likes you.” Surprisingly, it's Tadashi who speaks.

“Suna doesn't like me, Tadashi. He's clearly an idiot who knows nothing.”

“No, yeah. He totally likes you. He looked like he wanted to kill me.”

“Kei! You can't go antagonizing people!”

“Yes. i can. Especially assholes who think they can say shit when they don't even bother to talk to you.”

You smile wide. Fuck. “Oh my god, Tadashi! Kei loves meeee!”

He blushes and pushes you. “Fuck off, no one even likes you.”

You wrap him in a hug and he's groaning the whole time, but Tsukishima Kei loves you.

Thankfully, it's friday. Which means you're not going to think about school for the next two days.

Unfortunately, Tadashi is dragging you to a party. Originally, he was only taking you because Kei refused to go. But now there's a change in plans.

You're whining into the phone, “Tadashiiii, if Kei is going then why do I have to??”

A voice, who is most certainly not your sweet freckled baby, answers instead, “Because your stupid boyfriend,” “I dont have a boyfriend, Kei” “is going to be there, and my job is to piss him off.”

“Why do you live off of chaos? What do you get out of it?”

“Pissing people off is one of my favorite pastimes, midget. Get ready.”

And the mother fucker hangs up on you.

One of these days, you swear you're going to kick him right where it hurts the most.

You walk into the party, Tadashi holding your hand and Kei's hand on your back. It's nice. It's comfortable. You feel like everyone thinks you’re fucking them both. You're not. They’re fucking each other, but that’s a whole other thing you’re not going to get into.

Tadashi goes to get some drinks and Kei takes you to a wall and cages you in.

You blink up at him so prettily, he thinks, if he wasn't in love with his boyfriend, you would've been his next one.

“Kei?” You say so softly and he smirks like the demon he is.

“Saw dumb, dumb and dumbest playing beerpong. I think one of them saw you, so I’m just doing my friendly duty and pissing him off.”

You roll your eyes good naturedly at him and see Tadashi making his way over to you guys.

“Yummy! Give me, give meee!”

Tadashi smiles at you so sweetly and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, sweetheart!”

“Babe, I'm gonna blush, you womanizer!”

He blushes at that. Tadashi is much too sweet for your teasing but you love seeing how red he can be.

“Shut up, you little brat!”

Suna noticed. He always notices you. He saw the moment you walked in. He narrowed his eyes the moment Kei caged you next to the wall. He also saw when Tadashi kissed you.

The math aint mathin, he thinks to himself.

Atsumu notices his glaring and wants to see what has Suna so angry. At a party.

Then he sees you and who you're with and he laughs in Suna’s face.

“What are you angry about? You never talk to her, idiot. Why don't you change that? Actually, lets go.”

He grabs Suna by his wrist, dragging him across the room to where you three are.

“Y/n! Hey! I didn't know you came to parties!”

You blink your pretty eyes towards them and you smile wide.

“Tsumu! I don't usually, but they wanted me to come and I love them so… Here I am!”

“What, you're not gonna say hi to me, too?”

Now. normally, you would blush and brush it off. But unfortunately, you got some liquid courage in your system because of Tadashi.

“Oh? What's this? Suna is actually making an effort in talking to me?”

You smile so cutely at him and his eyes widen. Is that a blush?

Before he can respond, Atsumu is laughing his ass off.

“She’s got a fuckin point there, Suna!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tsumu. Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Obviously, Y/n’s side.”

You start laughing loudly at their interaction. Kei has a tight grip on your waist and Suna is glaring at the offensive hand.

“You got a staring problem, Suna?”

You glance up at Kei and see a mischievous fire in Kei’s eyes.

“Can you be nice for two seconds, Kei?”

“He's glaring at my hand. Am I supposed to say nothing?”

“Maybe you're just imagining it, hmm?” You say sweetly to him.

He’s about to tell you how stupid you are when someone speaks up, “Hey, Y/n. You wanna go outside? Me and Tsumu are gonna go get some fresh air.”

Kei raises a brow at that, “What, just Y/n? Not us?”

“Nope.” He says, popping the p extra loud.

“Yeah, sure. It's stuffy in here. I'll be back okay? Try not to murder anyone. Love you, bye!”

You make your way outside and find a nice little secluded spot.

It feels so much better than being inside a cramped party where everyone is breathing the same air.

“Wow, it feels so nice out here, huh?”

You have such a pretty little smile all Suna wants to do is kiss you until you're giggling just for him.

“You're really touchy with your friends, aren't you Y/n?”

To your utter surprise, it's not Atsumu who is talking to you.

Atsumu is trying to hold back his cackle; sometimes Suna is too blunt for his own good.

“Hmm, I guess so. I've also known them forever, so it's natural for me to be like that with them. Why, you jealous, Suna?”

You're sitting down squished between Suna and Atsumu and it's giving you butterflies.

Suddenly, Atsumu’s phone is ringing.

“Fuck, its Samu.”

“Yeah? What's up? What? Why did you leave, you stupid… Alright. Stop. Osamu, stop, I'll be right there. Jesus.”

“Sorry, guys. Osamu is drunk and is attempting to walk home alone for whatever reason. I'm gonna go get him. See you guys later?”

“Hopefully! Let me know when he's safe, okay, Tsumu?”

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart!”

You blush, Atsumu has never called you sweetheart before.

Suna knew he was a fucking liar and only doing it to get a reaction out of him. Fucker.

He clears his throat, “We’re friends, aren't we, Y/n?”

You hum, thinking over what he's asking. “Are we, Suna? How can we be friends when you never speak to me?”

You smile oh so sweetly at him and he wants to bite it off of your face.

“We’re talking now, aren't we?”

“I suppose we are, Suna…”

“Call me Rintaro.”

You stammer at his bluntness, “O-okay… Rintaro…” It feels like candy on your tongue.

You’re so fucking cute, he thinks.

“Are you shy? Like a cute little… bunny.”

You stare up at him, eyes wide, face red.

“B-bunny?! Do you go around calling all unsuspecting girls, bunny, Mister Rintaro?”

“Nah. Just the cute ones named Y/n.”

“You're very bold for someone who I just became friends with, aren't you, Rin?”

He puts an arm around you and pulls you closer.

“But, you're so cute, bunny. I can tell you like the nickname. Should I keep calling you bunny? Hmm?”

You're trying to fight the heat on your face, but he's so cute. His words make your insides jelly and you want to kiss him.

“Should I keep going, bunny? Or go back to Y/n?”

You whine at him, “Noooo, Rin…”

Suna can’t help but think how cute you are. He can't help but want to pull more reactions out of you. He manhandles you onto his lap and you're squirming around a little too much.

“Watch it, bunny. If you don't stop you're gonna make this hard for the both of us.”

You stop squirming and cover your face with your hands trying to fight off your blush and embarrassment.

“Rintaro! You can't just say shit like that!”

“Oh? So you want me to get hard? Bunny, you're nasty, aren't you?”

He wraps his hands around your back and snuggles you right next to him so he can whisper naughty things into your ear.

“Bunny, if you wanted me that's all you had to say. I'm all yours, yeah?”

He brings his mouth to plant sweet kisses onto your neck and you're so embarrassed and in shock this is happening to you, you don't react immediately.

Then you feel his teeth sinking into your skin and you let out a breathy moan.

“Oh? What's this? You like being bitten, little bunny?”

“S-shut up, Rin…”

He huffed a laugh against your skin and continues to kiss and nibble at you. He's determined to mark you up so everyone can see just who you belong to.

He moves his hands so they are under your clothes touching your soft skin and it feels so good to have him touching you like this.

“Rin, more, please…”

And who is he to say no to a pretty little bunny?

He gives you the sweetest kiss which is all the warning you get before he's thrusting his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss and he soaks it up. Your tongues are battling and you've never experienced such euphoria in your life. If you could die right now you would be happy.

He removes himself from your mouth and you whine out a protest.

“Hush, bunny. Open up, yeah?”

You look at him questioningly but do as he says anyway. You open your mouth wide and loll your tongue out just a little bit and he groans at his obedient little bunny.

He stares you dead in the eyes and slowly drops some of his spit into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to, bunny.”

He watches the way his spit runs down into your throat and his dick swells tremendously.

“Okay, sweet baby. Swallow for me, yeah?”

You start to grind down onto his clothed cock and, fuck, it feels so good.

He grabs your hips and helps you rub your tiny little cunt all over him.

“Feel good, bunny? Hmm?”

“Y-yes Rin, feels so good… More…”

“More? Here, bunny? Are you sure?” He laughs into your skin.

You're so delirious with lust it doesn't really occur to you where you are, just that you need to feel him inside you.

“Are you sure bunny? I don't know if your little cunt can take me like this…”

You pout at him, “I can do it, daddy…”

He stiffens at the name. That's new.

“Daddy, please…”

Suna is pretty sure you have no idea what you're saying to him but how can he deny you when you're begging him so sweetly?

“Alright, pretty bunny, let daddy take care of you, yeah?”

Your eyes sparkle in utter happiness and he's struck back for a second. You're going to be the death of him, he thinks.

He goes to move your panties to the side and scoffs. As if he could even call these panties. It's basically a piece of string covering your little cunt.

So, he rips them in two.

“Rintaro! You can’t just rip my fucking underwear!”

You’re pouting at him and, fuck, he wants to shove his cock down your sweet little mouth. Another time, perhaps.

“Hush, baby. I'll buy you more. Not that it was covering much anyway.”

You're about to give him an earful before he's shoving a finger into your sopping cunt.

“Wow, bunny. You're soaked. Is this all for little ol me?”

He's leisurely pumping a long, thick finger in and out of your cunt and it has your thighs quivering.

“Yes, Rin, all for you, always for you,” you cry into his neck.

And all too soon he's taking his finger out and you look into his eyes and watch as he sucks your arousal off of his finger.

“Alright, bunny. Take my cock out.”

You're reaching down to his jeans and just seeing his bulge makes your cunt throb. Fuck, you cannot wait to have it inside you.

You slowly take his cock out and of course it's big and pretty just like him. Can't really say you're surprised about it.

He watches you as your eyes widen in excitement and softly stroke his pretty cock.

“You like what you see, bunny?”

You don't even spare him a glance while you lick your lips and nod softly. You very much do like what you see.

“Alright, sweetheart. It's gonna be a tight fit. Are you sure you want this here?”

“Yes, yes. Rin, please, daddy, please if you don't shove your dick inside me soon I will explode!”

He laughs at your word vomit. You're just so unbearably cute and there is no way in hell he can ever deny you.

“Alright, sweet bunny. Get ready, okay?”

Even when hes about to fuck your brains out, you cant believe how sweet he actually is.

He spits on his dick and lifts you up ever so slightly so he can slip the head inside your quivering hole.

Not that he needed the extra lubrication, he just wanted to make sure it was extra sloppy.

The fat head of his cock makes its way past your folds and you close your eyes with a silent, open mouthed moan.

“Shh,” he coos at you, “look at my sweet little baby, taking my cock raw. Does it hurt, bunny?”

He thinks he hears you growl more at him and he chuckles into the night.

And then he’s sinking you lower and lower and lower, until he's inside you.

All of him is inside you and, fuck, he wants to live in your cunt.

“You take me so well, sweetheart. Were you made for me? Is this cunt made only for me?”

You're babbling a symphony of yes, more, all for you daddy and it's doing everything in his power to not pound you like an animal.

“Rin,” you whine into his ear, “if you dont start moving now im going to walk away and never look back you stupid-”

He grabs your hips and lifts you till he's barely inside you and slams you down onto him.

You're squeezing him so tight, your cunt fluttering around his cock and he's trying not to finish right then and there.

“You're on top bunny, come on, show me, help me out, yeah?”

You can't hear anything; you just have this raw, vicious need for his cock to split you in half.

You start moving up and down as hard as you can and it's the most beautiful feeling you've felt in months.

He's helping you so he reaches a little deeper, you are involuntarily squeezing his shaft, so lost in pleasure.

No one has ever fucked you like Suna Rintaro is currently fucking you.

You're pretty sure no one else will ever measure up to him.

He's sucking hickies all over your unblemished neck, a feral growl in him knowing he's the one who's gonna have his marks all over your precious body.

“S’at feel good, baby? You like when I bite your neck and slam you on my thick cock, bunny?”

“Yes, daddy, yes I love it so much, please more!”

And then he really puts you to work.

He's slamming you down onto him as hard as he can. Your heady arousal is absolutely soaking him. It's so filthy and nasty and perfect and you wouldn't have it any other way.

“God, fuck. You're perfect, bunny. Touch your sweet little clit for me?”

You're so lost in pleasure you don't hear him through the haze of your arousal.

He growls into your ear, “Touch your fucking clit and make yourself cum on my cock or you’re never getting this dick again, bunny.”

You whimper out into the night sky and sluggishly move your hand to your poor, throbbing clit.

You press your finger gently onto it before matching suna’s rough pace.

“God, how can you get any fucking tighter. Its like fucking a virgin, at this point.”

Which makes you rub your clit faster, “Daddy, daddy, please m so close, wanna cum all over your pretty cock!”

He wraps a pretty hand around your throat and demands, “Cum, bunny.”

You cum so hard you see white.

You're moaning and he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

Your cunt is fluttering around his so fucking deliciously he cant help but slam you down one last time and fill your guts with his semen.

You're still shaking in his arms from your orgasm and he just holds you and kisses you through it until you finally relax.

You blink up at him, trying to get some clarity in your eyes.

“Either you're an angel, or you're sent straight from hell. How can the best fuck of my life be at some shitty college party?” You ask him. And then it hits you.

“OH MY GOD, Suna! Why did you let us fuck at some shitty college party?!”

He laughs loudly at you.

“Bunny, you asked. I delivered. Shouldn't you be thanking me?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you so much, Suna-sama, for defiling me at a nasty frat party!”

“Baby,” he smiles mischievously, “anything for you.”

You're laughing into his skin when all of a sudden someone is throwing a towel? at your head.

“Hey, what the fuck-”

You turn to look at the offending fucker and you just see a blushy Tadashi and smirking Kei.

“Kei! Tadashi!” And then you remember Suna’s softening cock is still inside you.

“I cannot believe you nasty fucks couldn't wait until you were at someone’s house. Outside of a party. You're kidding.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kei. Mind your business!”

Suna pulls you protectively to his chest.

Kei laughs at him and rolls his eyes, “Relax lover boy, Tadashi is all the ass I need.”

Tadashi turns into an even blushier mess and hisses at him, “Kei! You don't have to be so lewd!”

They're turning to leave when Kei graces you with a parting gift.

“Good job, Y/n. It only took you 4 years to talk to your crush.”

Fuck. You're going to murder him in his sleep. You know where he lives. You have his key.

“What does that mean, bunny?”

You groan into his chest; you were hoping to avoid this topic forever if you could.

“Ughhhhh, I saw you when you played against Karasuno at nationals and I've just kind of had a crush on you since then,” you say really fast hoping he'll drop it.

Unfortunately, he does not drop it.

“Well, I guess I have a lot of time to make up for then, don't I, sweet bunny?”

Your heart flutters and you place a heart stopping kiss to his soft lips.

“Can we go now?”

You laugh and yeah. You guess you’re kind of glad you came to this stupid frat party and had a class with Suna Rintaro.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #suna rinatro #suna x reader #suna smut #suna x y/n #suna x you #rintaro smut

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years

Text

AS YOU WISH | J.JH | ONE

cover by @seostudios

SYNOPSIS. He was a boy, she was a girl— can I make it any more obvious?

But actually, she was a cursed genie of two thousand years who longed to be freed of her gilded cage and he was a modern but lonely boy who hoped to free her. He just didn’t expect to fall in love with her in the process.

GENRE. angst, slow burn, romance, genie!au, reincarnation!au, royal!au, thief!au PAIRING. jeong jaehyun x female genie!reader MINOR CHARACTERS. mark lee, moon taeil, jeong sungchan WORD COUNT. 10.6k+

WARNINGS. stealing, mentions of cuts and wounds, blood, physical beating, derogatory name calling

ONE: PAST | TWO: INTERLUDE | THREE: PRESENT

2000 YEARS AGO, THE KINGDOM OF NEIHO

“Stop, street rat!”

Heavens, how you hated that name. You ached to yell a taunting insult back but you were afraid of the royal guards catching onto your identity by hearing the sound of your voice.

“Grab that lousy thief!”

The calls of the guards continued to sound throughout the pathway as you ran for your life. The heavy bag of riches slung along over your shoulder pounded against your upper back as you felt the wind in your hair. The extra weight was beginning to weigh you down but you did not falter. Your strained legs propelled you forward and you stole a quick glance behind you— the burly men with swords were gaining on you and you could not let them.

“Wait— there are two of them!”

You cursed when your partner was spotted. From the corner of your eye, you caught a flicker of his cape turning a corner. You were supposed to be the diversion. The blazing sun burned your skin through your hooded cloak but you had to keep pushing. For them.

You would do anything for them, even give your life for them, just as your mother did before you.

Apologizing as you passed, you threw down displays of fresh produce to throw the guards off. You would come back to help clean up later.

You pulled the cloak down to better conceal your face before sprinting into a hidden nook in the village center. The bolstering guards ran past your hiding spot moments later, their leader barking commands to his subordinates before they all went their separate ways. Peeking behind a wall, you watched as their backs grew smaller and smaller and let out an audible sigh.

You made it another day. With a wide-eyed grin, you pushed yourself out of your hiding spot and walked an easy path to the outskirts of the kingdom where people were waiting for you.

If the guards were smart enough, they would have easily found you by they searched the outskirts of the kingdom’s stone walls. There was an opening in the walls, big enough for one person to fit through. You frequented that small hole often with a large sack hauled over your back. As soon as you passed that point in your path, you tossed your cloaked disguise into a nearby bush before trekking on to your final destination.

The path was lengthy but at least you were in the shade instead of under the blazing sun. The clanking of your stolen riches kept you company as you navigated through the many trees. It wasn’t long until you reached an open area filled with a variety of people. Lousy tents made of the thinnest cloth and held up by fallen branches surrounded the field and in the center was a large fire pit. There were clotheslines, cooking supplies, and a short supply of food scattered around the makeshift camp.

The plentiful conversations hushed when you dropped the sack at the end of the path. A shuffling of footsteps and the tinkling sound of coins clanging against each other reached your ears before another figure plopped down beside you, his body falling splat onto the soft grass.

“I refuse to do that again,” a boyish voice groaned beside you. It came from a boy around your age, give or take a few years, with messy brown hair and the cutest set of doe eyes. His thin face and sharp jawline were lined with dirt but he was still what you considered handsome.

“Minhyung, stop your fusing,” you scolded as you ruffled his hair. The boy whined at your actions, moving away to escape your teasing. “You say the same thing every single time we do this, however, you keep coming back to help me.”

“They almost caught me this time around,” he told you. “I barely escaped— one guard grabbed me by the ends of my cloak and almost saw my face! I thought you were the distraction!”

“I was,” you fired back.

“And yet, they still found me,” Minhyung reported dramatically, swinging an arm over his eyes. There was a beat of comfortable silence as the breeze came rolling in.

“But was it worth it?” you asked with a soft voice.

A pair of dirtied feet appeared in your vision. You and Minhyung tilted your heads up to find a small child, not even five years of age gazing at you expectantly. The child’s body was extremely malnourished and their cheeks were horribly sunken in. They looked bashful as they outstretched an arm towards Minhyung.

He sent the child a tiny smile, his mouth curving up at the ends, as he produced a small loaf of bread from beneath his cloak. The child’s eyes sparkled in delight as they snatched the piece of food from Minhyung’s hold and eagerly bit into it. You patted the child’s head lovingly as you hand them a grip of gold coins. They shuffled back to their family who gave their thanks.

As the other people in the open field started to line up to receive their share, Minhyung simply replied: “Yes, yes it was.”

You grinned at your fellow thief— you thought it was worth it, too.

Your gaze shifts to the high towers of Neiho’s palace peeking from behind the treetops. But sometimes, you pondered over how effortless life must have been when living like royalty— was it easy when everything was provided for you?

Unlike what most people assumed, living the life of a royal was far from easy.

Jeong Yuno, the Crown Prince of Neiho, had a sudden urge to bang his head against the library wall. He refrained from doing so, the action being far from princely. He looked up from his pile of parchment paper with glazed over eyes, the ink from his quill drying from the lack of writing. There were rows of untouched books lined up at his desk and none of them were of his interest. They skirted on the topics of Neiho’s history and politics; although it was something he was already versed in, he hated the subject unlike his younger brother, Chansung, who excelled and loved it.

Yuno longed to touch the atlas that was stationed on his tutor’s desk. He wanted to study it, chart a course to another far off land, and mark it with ink as he visited place to place. But instead of traveling, the crown prince drowned in his studies while his tutor looked down upon his distracted self.

“Prince Yuno, have you heard a single word that has left my lips or is your head still up in the clouds?” Moon Taeil, the kingdom’s main historian and tutor, scolded. His wooden stick struck the surface of Yuno’s desk and the shocked boy jumped. From his own desk, Chansung snickered behind his thin hand.

“My apologies,” the crown prince bowed his head, his ears turning crimson from being caught by the snippy tutor.

“Well, since I have gained you back from the skies, might you list Neiho’s past rulers and achievements in order?”

Yuno bit back a loud groan. He was in desperate need of a sweet escape. His gaze floated out the window and onto the blooming marketplace below. It seemed like the liveliness was calling his name.

One of the things you loved about your mother was her storytelling. You heard stories of all kinds of love while growing up on the fly. She painted clear pictures of people falling at first sight, of hate turning to overflowing affection, and so much more. Your mother sold you tales of star-crossed lovers that found their happy endings before she passed; her fables of love sounded nothing more than poppycock and folly.

That is, until it occurred to the unsuspecting you.

It was a usual day for you in the city— hood up, cloak flowing in the wind with a sack beating your back as you were on the run from the royal guards stationed in the marketplace. You weaved in between the townsfolk, your nimble body easily pushing through nooks and crannies when you bumped into something— or rather, someone strong.

“Oof!”

“Oh!”

The large sack you carried added some extra weight, leading you to topple over the stranger that ran into your smaller build. The stranger was about to mumble a quick apology before you heard the bellowing of the persistent guards.

You cursed. There was no room for hesitation when you were caught in a tight spot such as this. With staggering breaths and a pounding chest, you grabbed the man’s hand and navigated through endless alleyways and store fronts. You mastered the art of escaping at a young age while he had trouble keeping up with your speed.

And so, your first adventure with the man you would soon learn to love began.

Your hurried steps brought you to an unattended rooftop. You put one foot on the ledge and leaned your body over to glance at the commotion in the market. Down below, the guards were scrambling through the bustling crowds in a failed attempt to find you. Watching them struggle on their search sent you into a laughing fit that your then mysterious companion echoed.

With a heaving chest and rushing heart, you finally looked up at him for the first time and saw the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. Despite only seeing him from his place on the balcony or painted portraits before, you immediately knew who he was: The Crown Prince of Neiho. He had deep chocolate eyes and jet-black hair that highlighted his sweat stained skin. His cheeks and ears were flushed with a rosy red as he gasped for air. He was dressed in a horrible excuse for a disguise; the high-end material he wore and golden shoes were purposefully stained. It was as if the prince wanted to be found.

You quickly retracted your dirtied hand from his soft one and immediately dropped to your knees. “My sincerest apologies for placing my soiled hands on yours, Your Highness. I ask for your forgiveness,” you said with a bowed head, your disheveled hair covering your embarrassed face.

Yuno let out a hearty laugh, one that was deep but still sounded like the lightest bells in your ear. “Please, none of that,” he said, helping you to your feet.

“If anything, you helped me escape from those wretched guards,” he sent you an angelic smile and you swore the heavens were smiling down on you at that moment. “I should thank you.”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as you felt your face flush with an unfamiliar heat.

“May I know the name of my savior?” Yuno questioned teasingly, his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Perhaps another time, Your Highness,” you said quite cheekily before running back into the crowd.

The second time you met Prince Yuno, you were both on the run once again. In a way similar to what you had done in the past, his hand slipped so fluidly into yours before you sprinted through the town square. You knocked a fruit cart down as a diversion and the guards struggled making their way through the mess. Through your hooded cloak that flowed in the breeze, you turned over your shoulder to chuckle at how helpless the so-called protectors looked.

“We must stop meeting like this, Highness,” you breathed out as you kept up with his speed.

“Why? I quite enjoy meeting like this,” he threw back at you with a sheepish grin. There was a glimmer of adventure in his eyes and you chuckled.

The hood of your cape fell back, revealing your face for a quick moment before you tugged it back up. It was too late, though, for he had seen your face. Having only heard your voice before, Yuno’s steps faltered at the sight of you. Taking charge at that moment, you overtook him and jerked him into an unpaved path.

You took him over and under until you found a safe haven on top of a building— your makeshift home. Ratty cotton sheets were tied to poles for shade and a pile of pillows was bunched together to make a bed. Random trinkets were scattered along the rooftop along with a scarce supply of food and sacks of stolen treasures leaning against a wall. You wordlessly made yourself comfortable, pouring yourself two cups of water from a jug and handed one to the stranger in your space. He took it graciously and gulped it down, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he did so.

“From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, my dear savior,” Yuno spoke to you for the second time that day.

“It was nothing, Your Highness,” you responded, waving him off as you sat at his feet.

“I feel like this was fate or destiny calling,” Yuno suggested out of the blue.

“This?”

“Us, meeting again,” he answered smoothly, his voice as melodic as a mother’s lullaby.

“I suppose it is.”

“Seeing as destiny brought us together, might I know your name?”

Despite being of a higher status, he didn’t seem as selfish as you thought he would be—Yuno seemed kind and trustworthy. You let down your walls and stuttered out your name. The dark orbs that you got lost in flashed with recognition and you wondered if you made a wrong move by revealing your identity.

“You!” he shouted, his voice booming loudly. “Yes, I have heard many things about you.”

You glared at him with panicked eyes and you rushed to cover his soft lips. “Are you insane, Highness? Speak like that and they will surely find us here!”

“My apologies,” he replied, tugging at his earlobe in embarrassment. “My excitement got the best of me.”

You snorted at his answer, “Excitement?” you probed. “What is there to be excited about?”

“It is not everyday you meet the infamous thief that steals from the rich to give back to the poor,” Yuno grinned with dimples sinking into his soft cheeks.

He was not wrong; you did steal for a living to help the less fortunate. Unlike many others your age, you were able-bodied and felt the mighty need to provide for others who needed extra support. This had been the fifth time the guards had almost caught you but it didn’t matter. As long as the children on the street did not starve, you would risk your life over and over again.

Your mother, compassionate and altruistic as one could ever be, had done so in the past and you were determined to carry her legacy. You wanted to make her proud.

“Are you going to arrest me then?” you challenged with a brow. You took a large step back, ready to be on the run if the situation called for it. “If that is your intention, Your Highness, it is in my best interest to leave you.”

“Oh, no! If anything, I agree with your actions,” he relayed, arms shooting out to keep you in his reach. The Prince’s touch pierced your skin with comforting warmth and you shudder at the odd sensation.

“The Royal Advisor, Rowena, insists on high taxes and taking from the poor while feeding the rich,” he started to explain, taking a seat on the dusty steps.

You hummed, recalling the many times you had laid your eyes on the advisor— she held her head high and wore a permanent, almost sinister smirk on her gorgeous face. Her eyes were as red as blood and hair as black as night. She was beyond intimidating, more so than the Royal Family and their guards.

“What she is doing to the people out here, it isn’t right,” Yuno added on. “They are suffering and I feel as if it is my duty to stop her.”

“I feel as if it is mine as well,” you replied.

“I tried to tell the King of how Rowena’s suggestions have been affecting the community outside the palace walls but it is as if she has him under a spell. He hears not a thing I say,” he explained exasperatedly.

He let out a defeated sigh as you crouched next to him. You let him speak, seeing how distressed he was by the whole situation. “He only listens to her and my younger brother, Chansung; he is the smarter sibling. I am nothing but a pretty face that represents the kingdom,” the prince chuckled darkly.

“Highness—” you tried to intervene, not enjoying how he was belittling himself. He stopped you before you could even begin with a mere glance.

“It is not I who deserves the throne, it is Chansung. I can barely do a thing when my mind is elsewhere. How can I rule when my mind is not focused on the needs of my people?”

You place a tentative hand on his knee to ground him before his thoughts send him spiraling.

“I apologize,” the runaway prince blurted suddenly. “I do not know you and here I am, spilling out my innermost thoughts. You must think I am a fool.”

“No, it’s quite alright. I imagine you have no one to discuss this with within the palace,” you comforted him with a kind smile. You encouraged Yuno to continue, hands urging him on. “But if your mind is not here, then…”

Yuno shot you an empty grin, the upturns of his lips not meeting his reddening ears. “I have been trapped inside the palace since birth. Raised inside these walls all my life. I am safe and sound with a set future here and yet…” his voice trailed off, looking at the overview of the kingdom. His stare then gravitated beyond the kingdom walls.

“And yet?”

“I want to go beyond our borders. I know there is more the world has to offer. I have read about it in books but I want to experience it in person, write it down, and bring back what I have learned to better Neiho.” There was a sense of longing in his voice and you could almost relate to his yearning.

You took a seat next to him, your knees touching his. Your body turned towards him, torso leaning forward to give the prince your undivided attention. “What have you read about so far, Your Highness?”

“Please call me Yuno,” he said gently, clutching onto your hand. You tried to tug it away, flustered from the sudden contact, and he only tightened his clasp.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you replied, “I mean, Y-Yuno.”

The instant his name left your lips, he sent you the most dazzling smile, his pearly white teeth perfectly framed by the pink of his lips and the curve of his dimples. Whiskers appeared around his closed eyes and his nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and you found yourself falling down the rabbit hole one called love.

Ever since that fated day, you arranged countless meetings in random nooks and crannies of the marketplace. Yuno taught you the many things he had learned from his readings while you showed him places he had never been before. He brought you books and taught you how to read. You taught him how to fend for himself in the forest.

You often found yourselves weaving through crowds as the guards attempted to follow your trails. Laughter bubbled through the prince’s chest as you tugged him along with intertwined fingers. Your heart leaped huge lengths across your chest every time he glanced your way through his fluttering eyelashes and you wondered if he felt the same.

Your days with Yuno always ended on that same rooftop, overlooking the beautiful sight that was Neiho, and you adored every second of it.

One night, you blurted out, “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?” Yuno glanced up at you from your lap, head tilting with curiosity. Your fingers were tangled in his soft, clean hair as his hand played with the ends of yours.

“Do you?” he countered. The point of your elbow dug into his toned stomach and he winced.

“I asked first,” you said and he laughed at your argument.

“And I am the Crown Prince,” he threw back and you pouted at his response.

You were quiet for a moment, gathering your thoughts together before answering your own question. “Yes.”

“And what do you wonder about?”

“There are times I wish for a life where I am comfortable, where I’m not breaking my back for someone else’s sake.” Feeling a bit vulnerable, you drew your hands away from his head and wrapped them around your waist— it was your first time to reveal this hidden thought of yours.

“It’s not that I want to stop helping them,” you explained tentatively, “I just wonder what it would be like to start living just for me, without the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

Yuno only hummed in reply. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of the daze you were in. “Your turn to answer,” you pushed the heavy question onto him.

“I suppose so, yes,” he mused simply. “I would like to be a traveling scholar, see the world through my own eyes. I often wonder about a life of travel, you know this.”

You did know this—Yuno told you this many times.

“There’s another thing I wonder about, though,” he slipped in.

“And what is that?”

“I often wonder what life would be like if I had you by my side.”

You coughed at his sweet words, not at all expecting to hear a statement like that. He reached up to pat your back as you choked on air, giggling at your antics. Your breathing returned to normal and his fingers found their way to yours. With entwined fingers and hearts, he called your name endearingly as his head rested against your lap. You returned his earnest stare under the light of the moon with the same intensity, “Yes, my prince?”

He rolled his eyes at your response.

Yuno, hidden in a ripped cloak, brought your hand against his plump lips and looked into your eyes as he kissed your knuckles. “I arose from bed this morning with a sudden realization.”

“Have you come to the conclusion that Chansung is the better looking royal?” you poked. He gave you a look of betrayal and you giggled at his furrowed brows and flared nostrils.

“It was nothing but a joke, dear,” you laughed, running your fingers through his thick locks of hair. He huffed loudly, turning away from your playful gaze.

“My attempt to confess my love and she makes a fool out of me,” he mumbled under his breath but you could not catch his words.

“You would make a great jester,” Yuno added with another roll of his gorgeous eyes.

“I don’t think I would enjoy being the laughing stock of nobility,” you answered, poking at his soft cheek. He swatted your hand away in annoyance but your fingers were persistent. You continued to sink your finger into the skin of his cheek until he caught it and nibbled on your fingertip. Yelping, you drew back your hand and narrowed your gaze at the prince.

It was his turn to laugh at your reaction, blessing your ears with the sweetest melody. “My darling, you would never be a laughing stock to me.”

Although your finger throbbed, you were happy to see the playful side of the prince— he often had a stoic expression when addressing the people of Neiho from the palace balconies. The sight of his bright smile was enough to light the whole kingdom tenfold.

“What would I be then?” you asked mockingly.

Yuno shifted to face you, his ethereal features glowing in the starlight and captivating you in ways you could not explain. There was a fluttering feeling in your stomach and an intense pounding in your chest as Yuno gave you the simplest answer, “The love of my life.”

His words sent your heart soaring to the highest of places.

In that moment, it mattered not who you were and where you were because you were the love of his life just as he was yours.

Arriving at the clearing deep in the forest, you released the bag of stolen goods from your hold. Panting out breaths, you did your best to steady your heartbeat. The racing palpitations of heart felt different somehow, maybe because for once, they were not caused by the adrenaline of running away but by the highs of being deeply in love.

A gorgeous smile broke out on your face and you hadn’t a care if you looked like a crazy loon.

“Where have you been?” A familiar voice blasted from above you. Looking up, you saw Minhyung seated on a tree branch. He leaped down, landing directly on his feet with a playful smirk.

You coughed the grin right off your face. “I had to take a little detour is all.”

“A detour?” Minhyung questioned.

“Yes, a detour.”

Your friend circled you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Quite unusual for your detours to last until sundown,” he teased, “and you look like you’re walking on air.”

You tried to bite back your grin and you failed. You could never hide anything from Minhyung, he had seen you through it all. He was your brother after all— not by blood but nevertheless, he was family.

“I met the Crown Prince,” you muttered under your breath.

“Do speak up, you know how I hate when you mumble,” Minhyung teased, using the words you often fired at him.

“I said, Minhyung, I met the Crown Prince,” you repeated with a louder voice.

You watched as Minhyung’s eyes widened like saucers and how they gleamed with intrigue as he squeezed you closer to him. “You met Prince Yuno?!” he gasped. “How— why? What?”

“Keep it down, will you please?” Clamping a dirtied hand over his mouth, you tried to shut him up. He simply licked your palm to which you smacked him across the head.

“Well, this isn’t our first time meeting. We’ve met many a time before,” you started off, going down your short history with the prince. Minhyung listened attentively— his admiration for the Royal Family, much like many of the other Neiho citizens, ran deep.

“How is he in real life?”

“Nothing short of wonderful,” you sighed, head turning back to face the city. You wondered how he was doing, if he made it back through the palace gates without any trouble from the guards he was escaping from. “He is like the brightest star I have ever seen, so beautiful and radiant but still so far out of my reach.”

Remembering the sound of his laughter and the look in his eyes, another soft smile appeared on your face. It was a smile Minhyung had never seen on your features. You appeared as if you were the star you just described, shining brightly for one person and one person alone. The light in your eyes was almost too blinding, he wanted to look away but Minhyung couldn’t.

It had been so long since he had seen you this happy— the last time you smiled so cheerfully was with your mother so many years ago. You adopted a harsher look throughout the years that Minhyung was beyond ecstatic to see that happiness still existed within you.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you answered gently. “He told me to call him Yuno.”

“And did you?”

“Of course, Minhyung,” you said with a chuckle, “it would be wrong to not obey royalty.”

“Yes, you’re quite right,” Minhyung hummed back.

“He is filled with kindness and loyalty to the kingdom, which is admirable.”

“But?”

Thinking back to the conversation you had with the prince, your eyebrows stitched together when recalling his dreams. “His heart aches for adventure and knowledge, things he cannot find here if he is to be King.”

Minhyung searched your face for a glimpse into your head. “Isn’t that what you’re looking for, too?”

Looking your best friend and fellow thief straight in the eyes, you were posed with a thought that hadn’t even crossed your scattered mind. “I suppose it is.”

Minhyung laughed as you came to the realization. The two of you sat in silence as you breathed everything in.

“The Prince isn’t that far from your reach then,” Minhyung posed with a childlike grin. “He is much closer than you think.”

The first time Yuno kissed you was underneath the setting sun. Hidden behind the stone walls of the palace, he pressed you into a dark corner where no one could catch sight of your unlikely pairing.

It was a long day for the both of you— you had snuck into the houses of nobles, stealing their smallest treasures to sell in order to feed the hungry while he shadowed his father during his audiences with the people of Neiho. Your secret rendezvous started with exchanging stories about your eventful day with shared laughter and the sweetest of touches. Yuno’s smooth hands ghosted against your dry ones several times, each touch sending tingles down your spine.

His arms caged you in between his strong body and the hard stone wall as his face hovered in front of your own. Your breath hitched as his intense stare shifted from your eyes to your parted lips. It was the dead of winter but you had never felt hotter under his fiery gaze.

“May I kiss you?” you found yourself asking as his plump bottom lip grazed against your own. You were shocked by your own bravery and you knew he was, too. Your heart pounded loudly like a beating drum and you swore the prince could hear it as well.

“Do as you wish,” the prince replied almost breathlessly, captivated by the way your eyes kept flickering to the lack of space in between your bodies.

“But is that what you wish for, Yuno?” you countered with a sultry tone. He gulped loudly at how confident you were and nodded almost too eagerly, lips barely brushing against your dry ones. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Then, your wish is my command,” you smile before closing the distance between. A light press of your lips onto his was all it took to send your world spinning round. Yuno deepened it by leaning his body against your smaller build, a hand tilting your jaw up in a different angle.

He held you so gently, making you feel as if you were royalty. Hands in his hair and his arms around your waist, his kiss made it seem like you had chased the blowing winds and touched the pastel sky. His love rose you to the heavens above and you soared with a rush of freedom you had never felt before.

You kissed as the sky cast a golden glow upon your bodies, too lost in each other to realize you were the focus of someone’s envious gaze.

While you flirted with the life of crime, Yuno made his way through the hallowed hallways of Neiho’s palace. His heavy steps echoed throughout the empty path but he couldn't even hear a thing— his mind was littered with scattered thoughts. He marched his way to his younger brother’s quarters, determined that would be the day he would reveal his heart to his kin. The crown prince groaned in frustration, decorated hands messing with his jet-black hair as he tried to piece what to say.

How did one even start this conversation? Yuno never had a conversation as deep as this with his sibling before. The only person he poured his heart to was you.

Does he start with not waiting to take the throne or with his dream of travel? Should he begin with his skepticism over Advisor Rowena and the poor conditions of their people?

Yuno stopped in place— Rowena. He cringed at the thought of her. He heard the rumors swirling around the circle of nobility. The servants in the palace could never keep their mouth shut at the whispers. There were tales of the King making the advisor his betrothed for the sake of a flourishing kingdom.

He couldn’t fathom how his father came to this as a viable option for the betterment of Neiho.

Yuno thought traveled back to you and what you stood for: how your gigantic heart only thought of others. He recalled how your body was drenched with wounds and scars and yet, you still kept going for the people that had everything to lose. He wanted to find ways to make your life easier but he knew he couldn’t find them inside Neiho’s borders. He had to leave in order to find that solution.

Yuno had no idea how long he contemplated in front of Chansung’s room before the door burst open. Yuno let out a shocked yell as his brother cocked an eyebrow at his older sibling.

“Brother, how long were you going to stand outside my door before simply coming in?” Chansung leaned against the wall as Yuno placed his hand over his rapid heart. He tried to catch his breath much to his brother’s amusement, but he was a bundle of nerves.

“Chansung,” he exhaled, still clutching his chest, “how did you know I was here?”

“It is impossible to not hear your stomps and groans through the wall,” the younger prince poked. “I imagine the townsfolk down below could hear your pacing.”

“Of course,” the older prince said with a roll of his eyes. His younger brother wordlessly invited him in by opening the door to his chambers wider and he breezed through, taking a seat on Chansung’s plush mattress. Chansung closed the door behind him to find his usually composed sibling with his head in his hands. A symphony of defeated sighs left Yuno’s lips and Chansung set a comforting hand on his brother’s back.

“What ails you, dear brother?” The younger implored.

“Chansung.”

“Yes, brother?”

“Have you ever felt like there was something more out there in the world, just waiting for you?”

Chansung paused at Yuno’s question, retreating his hand from his brother’s body. A silence surrounded the room as the younger sat next to his sibling.

“I suppose I haven’t,” Chansung answered with a hum. He turned to face his brother, finding the crown prince’s face contorted with furrowed brows and sucked in cheeks. “I knew that my place was always here in the castle and I have always taken that role seriously.”

This was true. Chansung always buried himself in his studies, gathering enough knowledge to to soon overtake the place of Yuno’s future advisor. He studied religiously to not let his people down, just as his Father and Rowena currently were.

The older nodded silently, the black strands of his hair shifting to hide his eyes as he did so. He tugged on his earlobe, a habit he picked up when he was deep in thought or stressed beyond belief. Chansung caught sight of Yuno’s tell-tale and his lips pursed on trying to figure out as to why his brother was stressed.

“See, Chansung, that’s the difference between us,” Yuno broke the deafening silence.

“What is?”

“You are the one who deserves the throne, not I.”

“Brother!” Chansung shouted in defiance. “Why would you say that? You would make a great king!” He pushed with such force. Yuno smiled, his brother always had seen the best in him.

“Chansung, one cannot deny the truth,” the crown prince smiled at his sibling. The upturns of his plump lip showed the prince’s fondness for his brother and a twinge of regret for not being the royal people expected him to be.

“I have known what people have expected me to be and I have tried my best to live up to those expectations but...” Yuno began. He stood up and walked towards the open balcony, Chansung following in his wake. The elder leaned against the railings, hands resting on the cold stone as his sibling chose to press his back against it.

Townsfolk caught a glimpse of them from down below and enthusiastically yelled for the royal duo’s attention. The younger greeted them with matched excitement, bringing his hand up for a wave while the elder just nodded at them with a forlorn expression taking over his handsome face. He stared at the crowd a little longer than he should have, his mind wandering to the thief that stole his heart. His deep chocolate eyes traced the busy streets and alleyways, through the ways of the marketplace and the housing area until he could no longer see the outlines of the path.

“But you feel as if you belong down there,” Chansung finished for him with a hint of understanding.

“Yes,” Yuno breathed out.

“Brother, you have always had a knack for escaping,” Chansung joked lightheartedly to ease his brother’s troubled heart. It was not everyday a royal revealed he wanted to be one of the people after all.

A hearty, deep rumbling laugh escaped the crown prince’s lips. “I suppose I was not as discreet as I could have been,” he said with the shake of his head, “I was too busy running away from the guards to leave quietly.”

“I suppose not,” the younger chuckled along, the sounds of their laughter drifting with the winds.

“But Yuno,” Chansung’s voice called, “will you be alright?” His voice grew faint towards the end of the question and Yuno caught what his sibling was implying. Would the crown prince be alright after leaving a life of comfort?

“Yes,” Yuno smiled, his eyes shining in a way the second in line had never seen before, “for I will be happy.”

“Will you really be happy?” Chansung asked softly, his voice choking at the thought of his brother leaving him behind. He shook the sadness away and grinned widely at his sibling.

“You are leaving your favorite person behind after all,” he teased, barely dodging a playful punch to the chest. Yuno slung his arm over Chansung’s broad shoulder, bringing a hand to ruffle the other’s neatly styled hair.

“When have I ever called you that?”

“Come, Yuno,” the younger man said with a proud smile, “we have much to discuss before we bring this to Father.”

Yuno laughed once more, his heart bursting with an infinite amount of joy. He was one step closer to being free.

Nothing could take away his happiness, or so he thought. Neither brother realized the person lurking in the shadows, hanging onto every word with disdain.

“He wants to abdicate the throne for a measly street rat? How could this be?” Rowena asked herself as she stormed into her secret hideaway within the palace walls after hearing the conversation between the siblings. The fabric of her robe flowed behind her and the mighty jeweled staff pounded against the floor as she rushed her way down steep steps.

“All these years of scheming my way to the top will be wasted if he leaves with that peasant,” she spat harshly. Passing by the mirror hanging on her wall, Rowena paused in place to admire her looks. Running a hand through her shining black locks and stroking the sharp line of her jaw, she wondered what you had that she didn’t.

She had the looks, the intelligence, and the kingdom in the palm of her magic hand while you merely survived by committing to a life of crime. Why wasn’t the prince in love with her?

“Yuno and the position of queen was to be mine,” the advisor hissed, hazel eyes darkening with envy with each word she spoke. “I have not wasted my energy spelling the king only to settle for the second born.”

Her reflection disappeared from her view, a bundle of smoke and clouds hiding her away before dispersing into a sweet image of you and the prince together.

A terrifying shriek left her lips at the new reflection. Picking up the closest item within her reach, she hurled it into the mirror projecting that horrifyingly romantic image. The crack of the glass echoed in throughout the room and it fueled her bubbling ambition.

As her grip tightened against the length of her staff, she felt a new plan hatching in her head and dark magic coursing through her veins. “Prince Yuno and Neiho will be mine, make no mistake about that.”

You thought your love was too good to be true and he tried to convince you otherwise— you were a mere village thief and he was the Crown Prince. You came from practically nothing while he was of royal blood and yet, your fragile heart couldn’t help but fall for the lost man behind the crown and jewels. Your relationship was against the fates and the aligned stars but the prince had the strongest urge to rewrite them just to keep you by his side.

“I have scheduled a private audience with the King tomorrow.”

“And what will you discuss with him, love?” You stroked his fringe away from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your gentle hold.

He nestled into your palm, sighing at your warmth. “Renouncing the throne,” Yuno announced casually.

“I beg your pardon?!” You almost screamed into the night.

The prince ignores your little outburst, continuing his explanation. “The life of a royal is not the life I wish to live. I want to live a life of travel and adventure.” He sat up to clutch your hands in his. “I want to live a life with you, if you will have me.”

“With me?” You managed to mutter. “Out of all people, why with me?”

“Because I’m in love with you. Any day with you would be an adventure.”

“But I don’t have anything— no riches, just rags,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. He took you in, dirt smeared face and ripped clothing, and still looked at you like you held the world in your hands. Yuno saw the stars, the sky, the whole entire universe in your eyes. He didn’t need anything else— he just needed you.

“I love you more than anything else in this world but all I have to offer you is everything in me. I’m not sure if that is enough,” you bit your lip, teething gnawing down on your sensitive skin out of nervousness. He was the boy who had everything and he was willing to give everything up for a life with you.

Yuno brought your injured knuckles to his lips. He kissed them gently, holding your gaze with a soft one of his own. “My love, that is more than enough. You are more than enough.”

“But what about the villagers? What will happen to them if I were to leave?” You sputtered out, worrying about others rather than yourself.

He smiled at your selflessness. “I have already discussed this with Chansung. He is aware of the village’s situation and is willing to make changes to better their livelihood.”

“I can’t leave them behind,” you pulled your hands away. “They need me.”

“He is willing to work with your partner, Minhyung, to reach out to our people. No man left behind,” he replied with a smile. “We thought of all the options.”

You wanted to go with him but they were all you knew. Protecting the villagers and providing them with hope was always your number one priority— you had never thought of anything else. Would your mother be disappointed in you if you left them all behind or would she be happy to know that you have found a potential shot of happiness?

“Please, just think about it, my darling.”

“And Minhyung, he asked me to think about it!” You shrieked while running through the trees, a sack of gold hitting the small of your back. You looked behind you to see your younger partner-in-crime giving you the smuggest smile.

“Well, are you thinking about it?” He questioned, curiosity burning in his doe eyes. He wiggled his brows to tease you and you wanted to slap him with your heavy sack.

“What is there to think about? I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Why is that?” Your friend pushed.

“Because you need me, they need me.”

“Do we really need you or is it you that needs us?”

You frowned at him, not understanding his words. “What do you mean by that, Min?”

He laughed, nose coiling up cutely as he did so. “You have been stealing all your life, it’s all you know how to do. It’s familiar.”

“I do not see where you’re going with this.”

“You love him and you want to go with him but you’re scared.”

“Of what?”

“The unknown.” Minhyung gestured to all the riches you’ve stolen gathered by your feet. “This is all you’ve known but wouldn’t it be nice to do something more?”

“But this is all you’ve known too, Min,” you countered defensively.

“True, but by working with Prince Chansung, I can broaden my horizons.” There was this proud glint in his eye. “I can help more people. And you—”

“And me?”

“— you can finally be free to see what’s out there just like you’ve always dreamed of doing with nothing holding you back.”

Your friend grabbed hold of your hand, his larger one clasping over your own. Minhyung’s grip tightened around your palm to reassure you. “You can be selfish for once, to think only of yourself, and it will be perfectly fine.”

“Min, I want to be selfish but I’m frightened of everything— life beyond the walls and forest. What if everything out there is not what I think it is? What if I’m not prepared to leave this familiarity?”

Minhyung whispered your name as you began to spiral down a road he could not follow.

“And being in love with a prince for that matter! Love could be fleeting. Any given day after I leave with him, Yuno may not want me. He could turn his back on me and leave me to die. He has options, Min. I, for one, am not that lucky.”

Your friend squeezed firmly on your shoulder before reaching down to take hold of your hands. He crossed your arms over your chest and placed each hand on a shoulder, leading your fingers to tap against your skin. Minhyung encouraged you to follow along as he began to guide you through deep, calming breaths.

As your heart rate and thoughts began to settle, you wondered when Minhyung grew up to be the strong boy who stood beside you.

“Life is frightening. We know that more than anyone, flying by the seat of our pants,” Minhyung said with a chuckle of his own. “It’s alright to be scared of the unknown but it should not stop you from living your life the way you wish to live it.”

As you took another breath, you nodded to acknowledge his words.

“Do you want to live a life with the Crown Prince?”

“More than anything in this world,” was your firm reply.

Minhyung grinned at you, “Then that should be enough. Your love will be enough.”

Tugging him into a hug, you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. The act of affection was a “thank you” you cannot express with words. You only hoped your friend would understand the meaning behind the gesture. Luckily, with years of experience being your partner-in-crime, the young Minhyung was able to between the lines.

“Will you be alright?”

“Of course,” he said, placing a faint kiss against the crown of your head. “You’ve taught me everything I need to know.”

Minhyung, the younger and more energetic one of your thieving duo, ran ahead of you into the clearing to make the first drop of goods. You laughed at his excitable demeanor— you knew he would be the person you would miss most once you hightrailed out of the kingdom. He was the only family you had left but there he was, happy that you were finally setting yourself free.

The upward curve of your lips dropped when you heard his voice yell out for help. Heart racing, you let go of your sack, legs running faster than ever before to come to your best friend’s aid.

Once you caught a glimpse of him, your heart dropped to the floor, right by your soiled and tattered coverings you called shoes.

Minhyung was fighting against the hold of the strong guards that always chased your tail. His hands were handcuffed in chains and tears were running down his sunken cheeks as one guard repeatedly abused his small frame. You screeched at the vulgar sight unfolding before you— your little brother was being beaten to a pulp.

Three rough strikes to the stomach was all you could witness before you went flying towards him, hands outstretched to catch him as his body fell to the floor. You never reached him, another pair of guards preventing you from doing so. They immediately cuffed you and pulled your struggling frame towards them. Your shouts and frantic cries for the injured Minhyung were hushed when a restricting feeling took over your vocal chords.

Opening your mouth, you tried your best to make a sound but you found yourself mute.

A horrifyingly disturbing laugh came from behind the trees and you scuffled to find the source through your tears. The tall and sleek figure, dressed far too nice to be caught in these parts, approached you with the most evil smirk. Her back was straightened, chest puffed out, and head held high with pride as she used the tip of her staff to lift your head.

“So you are the one who caught the crown prince’s eye,” the figure said, her voice as piercing as her glare. “The little thief.”

“You,” came your choked reply as she released the spell she casted on you.

“Oh, so you know of me?” she laughed haughtily. “Say my name then, child.”

Refusing to do what she said, you turned your head to look at the unconscious Minhyung who was slumped across the grass.

“I said,” she hissed, using her hand to force your gaze back at her. “Say my name.”

“Rowena,” you growled. “What do you want from me? I have nothing you want.” Her sharp nails dug into your skin and you winced at the pain. The royal advisor clearly did not appreciate your snark.

“That is where you are wrong, my sweet child,” Rowena almost purred back. “You possess the thing I long for most.”

You scoffed at her answer. “And what would that be, witch?”

“Be careful with your words, street rat. I can end your friend’s life in an instant if you fail to hold your tongue,” a nail scratched your cheek, leaving you with a new cut. A thin stream of blood flowed down your face, dripping onto your tattered clothes as Rowena watched amusingly. “You are in possession of Prince Yuno’s heart when it was destined to be mine.”

You fought the urge to laugh, “You are doing this out of jealousy?”

“Hold your tongue, riff raff. You forget who is in control here, I can easily command my men to strike another blow on your poor fri—”

“No!” you yelled, cutting Rowena off, suddenly desperate to get on her good side. “Don’t hurt Minhyung; he has nothing to do with the situation!”

Minhyung weakly called your name and you ignored his cries.

“But he is a thief and it is a great crime to steal in this kingdom,” Rowena drawled on teasingly, like a cat playing with a hopeless mouse.

“No, please,” you begged. “You mustn’t hurt him.”

“Then you must do something for me in return, peasant,” Rowena laughed at how easily she had you wrapped around her finger. You appeared to be strong, but your overly selfless heart was weak.

“I will do anything you ask me to if you leave Minhyung alone,” you petitioned. You couldn’t let anything happen to Minhyung— he was the only family you had left. “He’s a brother to me.”

Minhyung’s head shot up at his new title while he gasped for air. Locking eyes with him, you smiled painfully. He was always at your side, protecting you when he could. Now, it was your time to protect him.

“I will let the boy live if you come with me without a fight,” Rowena schemed, grin growing wider by the second. She had you in the palm of her hands. “He is of no importance to me.”

“He is of the utmost importance to me,” you said, the familial love seeping through your veins. Though physically far apart from him, you hoped he could feel the love you had for him. Minhyung violently shook his head, as if to tell you not to go. He refused to let you sacrifice yourself to let him live, you had done enough for him as is.

“I will go with you, Rowena. Just allow me a moment to say my goodbyes.”

The guards holding you and Minhyung back looked at their commander for an order. With a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hand, you and your friend were freed of your confinement. You quickly shuffled to your feet and Minhyung fell into your arms as you sunk to the ground.

“Oh my stars, Min,” you sniffled as you took him in. Sandwiching his fallen face in between your hands, you stroked his cheeks and pushed back the strands of hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead. “Please tell me you’re alright.”

“I’ll be alright if you stay here with me,” Minhyung replied with tears welling up in his soft brown eyes. Minhyung was always the crier between the two of you. He cried more at your mother’s death than you did but this time, you let your tears cascade down your cheeks, knowing this was the last time you would see your best friend.

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t let anything happen to you, you have gotten yourself hurt because of me,” You gather enough strength in your shaking hands to squeeze his cheeks, something you always did to cheer him up. “I refuse to be the cause of your pain.”

“And I refuse to let you go,” Minhyung raised his hands to hold onto yours.

“I have made my choice,” you whispered harshly, “and that is to keep you and the others safe.”

You take a moment to hug the younger boy in your arms, trying to commit the feeling of Minhyung in your memory. Flashes of your best friend growing up by your side ran through your mind as your fingers stroked through his hair. Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head, you shut your eyes and bit back a sob. “Do me one favor? Find your happiness, wherever it may be and never let it go, alright?”

When you released him from your hold, Minhyung whined at the loss of warmth.

“You’re my brother, Minhyung. I love you,” were your last words to your thieving partner before you turned away from him and his heart wrenching sobs and willingly stepped into your doom.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

What started off as secret meetings and stolen kisses in alleyways was ending with you chained to the floor of the palace’s throne room while your lover watched helplessly from the side. He screamed your name and struggled against the hold of his guards but you shook his head to silence him.

Stop, you begged in your head, make it stop.

The King and Prince Chansung did nothing to help you or their kin, only staring blankly at the chaotic scene unfolding in front of them. They had no choice; they were bewitched to be at the sorceress’ beck and call, just like the many guards that protected the kingdom. If only Prince Yuno had realized it sooner.

“Why are you doing this?” Yuno yelled, his deep voice booming throughout the large room. His harsh glare, a look you had never seen on him, was focused on the lady seated on his father’s rightful throne.

“Why?” Rowena echoed. “My darling prince, I did this because of you and your wish to renounce the throne for her.” Her extreme distaste for you was apparent as she hissed the last word.

She left her seat, leisurely sauntering over to Yuno with a smile as if it was a casual meeting when the situation was far from it. Rowena squatted down to reach his level and Yuno hastily turned his head to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. His jaw tightened and his teeth grinded against each other as she forced him to look her directly in the eye. “Marry me and crown me as your Queen. Only then will I let her go.”

Instead of answering the witch with words, he chose to spit in her face instead. “Never, you hag. You are not worthy of ruling Neiho, nor will you ever be.” Yuno’s voice was ruthless and unwavering, just as a prince’s should be. Even in a moment like this, your heart swelled with pride at his bravery.

“Long live King Chansung,” he jeered, which only set Rowena off. “He is the next, rightful ruler of the kingdom.”

“If this is how you want to play, so be it, Prince,” Rowena laughed in his face. The sound of her cackles made shivers run down your spine and cold sweat broke out in a number of places. You were scared of what was to come.

Using her staff to help her back up to a standing position, Rowena made her way towards you with a menacing stare. The curve of her lips grew wider as you flinched back in fear. You heard the clanking of metal chains as Yuno wrestled against the guard’s hold. “Don’t you dare do anything to her!”

“And what will you do, Yuno?” she threw back. “There is nothing you can do to help her now.”

Only a few steps from you, she points the end of her staff in your direction. A gleaming emerald jewel taunted you as you sucked in a breath. “You, peasant, have always given selflessly without expecting anything in return so selfless you will remain,” she started to say, a gust of wind bursted out the end of the jewel. It first surrounded her figure, then you, before spreading throughout the room.

A golden lamp appeared out of thin air, floating in front of your face before you felt the spark of dark magic course within you. It released you from your physical binds only to leave you immobile. A pair of gold cuffs materialized on your wrists and tugged you closer to the lamp.

“No longer will you be able to act selfishly for you are bound to this lamp and to these chains until a master wishes you free,” she explained. The taunting laughter that would soon haunt your memories echoed in your ears as ideas for a curse were thrown into the wind. “It will be at least two thousand years until you have the chance of seeing your precious prince again, that is, if Prince Yuno finds you first.”

“What? No!” Yuno howled across the room as you were slowly consumed by a dark cloud. Calls of your name were heard but you could not respond as Rowena began to chant,

“Golden lamp of antique old, Bind her body, mind, and soul. May she obey her master’s whim, Turn her future dark and grim. Freedom comes with just one wish Unless it is a true love’s kiss.”

The smoke spread throughout the room, leaving the surroundings in a haze. As the evil enchantress concentrated on the curse, the hold on the others in the room fell through. The king and Chansung snapped out of their daze only to watch the horrific separation begin to take place.

“Brother, what is the meaning of this?!” Chansung shouted to get his sibling’s attention, bringing an arm to shield his eyes from the powerful gusts. His father gripped at his youngest’s sleeve as the gale turned into a hurricane with you in the middle.

Yuno failed to hear his brother’s questions, eyes zoned in on you as your freedom was slowly stripped away from you. The sight of you crushingly accepting your fate tugged on his heartstrings. This wasn’t the ending he wanted for you. This was far from it.

"Remember me! You must remember me," he yelled over the commotion. You watched him struggle over the smoke as you cry out for him.

"How could I ever forget you?" you reassured him with a broken smile. You felt the tail end of your body being pulled inside your new cage and tried to fight the unbreakable force.

Yuno screamed your name once more. You locked eyes across the room, his dark orbs spinning with love and desperation. You wondered if your wet irises looked the same as his.

"I will find you! I will search until the ends of the earth until you are by my side again.”

You wanted to laugh at his hopeful optimism— how did love get you into this situation?

As much as you wanted to believe Yuno would find you, the situation was bleak.

Rowena’s body rumbled with a laughter so sinister, so piercing that you flinched at the sound as her dark magic ran through your veins. “I would like to see you try, my prince, but until then, you and the throne belong to me,” she sneered.

Ignoring the enchantress’ claims, his eyes continued to search for your disappearing figure. “I will come back to you, I promise!” Yuno’s deep voice rang into your ears.

“I hope you will,” you whispered a defeated reply back.

“If not in this life, then I will find you in the next! Mark my words!”

“Yuno…”

“In any version of reality, my darling, I will find you and I will choose you every single time. Do you hear me?”

You nodded vigorously as you choked back your sobs.

Just as the last bits of your being slipped through the spout of the lamp, Yuno broke free from the guards’ hold and rushed to your side. You reached out a hand and his fingertips grazed yours.

“Don’t forget me,” he mumbled through choked up sobs. His shaking hands grabbed at the dreaded lamp, clutching it to his broad chest like it was the most precious thing on earth.

The sight of him so desperate before you was reminiscent of the star-crossed lovers you heard about during your younger years, the ones that ended in the worst of tragedies. You pondered if this was your own personal tragedy, if this particular scene would haunt you for the rest of your cursed life.

You exchanged one last glance. One last touch.

Your hand clutched his cheek like it was made of the most fragile glass and the pad of your thumb stroked his soft skin. Yuno leaned into your touch, wanting to soak in his last moment with you. A spark flickered the place of contact, a sizzle of bright dust oozing from your fingers— your first dose of magic and you couldn’t even use it to keep him by your side. A glittering tear fell from your cheek and landed on his skin.

It was then you muttered your last words to the man who claimed your heart before being completely tugged into your golden cage, “As you wish.”

author’s note. hello, my darling readers! i know many of you have been waiting for this release for the longest time. this is the first of three (or four) parts. this part has been done for quite some time now; i’m just struggling to get the rest of it out.

but i thought it was too good of a story to just sit there in my google docs. i had this need to finally put part of it out into the world so here we are! i’ve been writing this since october and i would like to thank the many people who have helped me with the plot so far: kira, my chaotic gc, allex, and joyce!! ily all!! <3 this is for you!!!

part two is finished and i’m in the process of editing it! will it be out soon? who knows?

taglist. @rindomo @yshbaewenjun @hannie-dul-set @itsapapisongo @babyyynatty @notnctu @w0nni3wrld @yuta1forme @lucyinthesunshinee

i lost my original copy of the taglist so i’m sorry if i missed people! (especially since it’s been so long!) please let me know if you would like to be added to the list for future parts!

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #jung jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #as you wish

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