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hardlyinteresting · 4 months ago

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Stop in the middle

Jake Seresin x reader

Two sides of the same coin; they were joined at the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you��.

So much wine by Phoebe Bridgers Somewhere else by Indians Abbey by Mitski

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, (call sign Angel), with no physical description, crash landing, wilderness survival, major injuries (non-graphic description), discussions of death, happy ending though (I promise!), hurt/comfort, idiots in love, possible Navy inaccuracies, (please let me know if you'd like me to add anything else)

Word Count: 4.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

Laying in the snow she watches the sun rise inch by inch over the tree line. The sky bathed in a soft orange glow that warms her skin for what she can only assume will be the last time. He’ll hate her for leaving him without saying goodbye, but her voice has already left her and her arms are too weak to shake him from his slumber.

In the distance the cotton fluff clouds rest on the peaks of the mountains; tremendous contrast so perfectly balanced. She feels each of Hangman's breaths expanding the firm plane of his chest as her breathing grows slower. Two days ago she never would have imagined dying in the arms of Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

---

They had taken off at the barest crack of dawn breaking. 0600 hours. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Take off from the carrier. Fly over. Survey the valley below—report anomalies. Continue the flight path, and land at a nearby ally airbase. Refuel. Return to the carrier. They'd been tasked with flying similar paths for the last two weeks as part of a larger peacekeeping and security effort. As far as deployments go, they were lucky to have been selected to be the joint task force; and more fortunate to not be engaged in active combat.

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job.

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying.

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips.

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley.

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself.

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”.

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.”

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case.

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while.

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be.

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet.

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival.

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk.

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained.

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”.

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted.

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful.

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface.

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked.

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him.

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?”

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?”

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed.

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right.

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”.

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance.

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf.

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods.

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway.

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate.

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about.

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth.

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship.

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them.

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer.

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight.

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”.

She believed him.

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever.

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more.

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind.

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit.

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence.

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow.

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand.

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life.

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands.

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him.

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before.

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation.

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it.

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus.

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him.

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her.

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love.

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another.

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”. But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong.

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

“I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving.

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep.

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer.

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent.

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments.

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey.

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake.

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows.

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky.

“Jake,” she manages.

“Yeah, Angel”.

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it,

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken.

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside.

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario.

“I'm in love with you,” he tells her too.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fic

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theurgists · 10 months ago

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: there's some tension on your picnic date with ellie.

warning(s): sexual tension, making out (?), fluff, ellie being ellie, thigh touching, illusions to smut, not proof-read.

note: i'm basically edging y'all....

Light-clouded skies turn to nightshade. A canvas devoid of any signs of activity except minuscule speckles of stars; something that’s only noticeable if you squint your eyes hard enough that you’d feel some sort of aching pressure behind your sockets.

The discomfort of the action hits you when your hands lift to rub at the tight skin around your irises, lifting each leg slightly to direct yourself onward into the abyss. Shuffling through high, unkempt grass, the smile that graces your lips is subtle as it tickles the flesh of your shins in a flurry. It’s a prickly sensation; one that signals gooseflesh to appear, the hairs on your arms to rise, and the fabric of your dress to shift against the upper half of your thighs.

A gentle breeze sends the thin blanket wrapped around your shoulders to fly backward slightly, waving as you flex your warm fingers; aiming to clutch it tightly across yourself as you shiver.. You had underestimated how cold it’d be, and so it had caused you to under-dress for the occasion of a nightly stroll beyond the fortified walls you’d surely get in trouble for crossing past patrol hours.

There’s a small pinch that appears on the right side of your jaw from its tautness, an overwhelming sense of insecurity threatening to creep up on you in the form of warm cheeks and a slight frown as you rub the material of the blanket between your thumb and pointer, relishing in the roughness of the texture to distract yourself from another shiver wracking your body. This time was a little more violent than the last.

“It’s a little darker than I thought it’d be.” Ellie’s nervous laughter reaches your ears beyond the aggressive push of the wind and the constant hoots of owls hidden deep within the thick brush of tree branches; small thumps made by the creatures of the night on pillowed greenery littered with small twigs.

Glancing down at the laces of her tearing sneakers, she narrows her eyes, suddenly aware of just how rock-ridden this particular path is. Almost immediately she’s cursing herself for how inconsiderate it might seem that she’s making you trudge through the wilderness – as if this isn’t a daily occurrence to you both.

“Watch your step.” It’s a mumble that makes its way past her lips before she can help it.

Nodding, you survey the surrounding area, taking notice of an extensive log just a couple of feet ahead, not too far away from dim lights decorating the roof trimmings of withering houses littering the streets of Jackson. Raising your arm, you point to said log, the material of your dress lifting a couple of inches. “What about over there?”

Ellie couldn’t help but take notice of it, unashamedly scanning her forest-green irises across your bare legs in the sliver of the moon, stopping right at the inner corner of your thigh. ��Okay, yeah, that’s a good spot.”

Turning to face her, you eye the beat-up picnic basket in her left hand; her knuckles white as she adjusts her grip. Raising your eyebrows, a twinge of curiosity suddenly piques within you.

“What’d you bring in that basket?”

Her newfound expression contorts every muscle resting underneath the surface of her freckled skin as she shrugs her shoulders. The corners of her warm, plump lips twinge, failing to hide the smile that appears a second later.

You had no idea why she was grinning ear to ear; although it wasn’t something foreign to you - just an action that had become rare as of late considering the circumstances she’d been struggling to deal with.

“I made us a couple of sandwiches. Thought we could sit here and watch the stars.” Ellie’s words falter as she lifts her unoccupied hand to tug at the already loose tie on her neck, suddenly aware of how tight it was. Tilting her head back, she sighs through her teeth, internally cursing at the clear sky’s lack of sight-seeing features.

All her efforts had gone to complete waste, well, at least in the crevices of her mind. “This isn’t going well so far.”

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you shiver, removing the blanket around your bare shoulders. Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you set it on the ground, lowering yourself to crawl across the pattered fabric with purpose – smoothing it out as best you could.

“You’re already giving up on our little date? Didn’t peg you for a quitter.”

You were pushing her buttons; playfully, she had come to realize when you purse your lips together, attempting to suppress your laughter at her offended expression.

“Am not.” She scoffs, averting her gaze from your hunched figure.

“Y’know what?” Ellie scratches the back of her ear before joining, left knee knocking against yours, leaving little to no space between. “We’re gonna eat these sandwiches and we’re gonna find…something to look at while we do.”

Humming in amusement, you nod your head, as she fishes through the basket; pulling out two square-shaped tin-foil-covered sandwiches.

Ellie can’t help the sudden blush that coats her cheeks when your fingers brush against the lapped skin of her knuckles. She wills herself to listen to the chirps of crickets and the rustle of grass when the wind sweeps through once more.

This time, it’s a little bone-chilling, and she tries not to let her teeth clack together as a shiver makes its way up her spine through the thinness of her shirt.

“I appreciate you taking the time to do all of this, y’know.”

“Do what?” Taking a small nibble of her sandwich, Ellie avoids looking in your direction, though she can see the skin on your face contort into an expression of playful annoyance. You poke her left shoulder with your finger, watching as she sways the opposite way.

A small smile graces your lips. “I’m serious. Thank you. I’ve never had someone go out of their way to take me on a picnic date.”

She raises a brow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The small glimmer of moonlight peaking through trees casts a halo around her face, making her tresses look dark, angelic features rivaling those you’d see in dusted books when on patrols.

The sight makes you bite down on the soft, pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, a lustful glint in your eyes as you drink her in like the wine you’d have on get-together nights back in town. Your eyes cautiously wander to her lips, imagining them in between your thighs, on your neck, the valley of your breasts.

Anywhere.

Anywhere but on that damn bread, she seems so interested in.

“You okay?”

“Huh?”

Ellie’s hearty laugh is enough to pull you out of the pool of arousal you’d almost drowned yourself in.

“I asked you if you wanted anything to drink.”

As she turns her head away from you, the skin near her mouth wrinkles, a grin decorating her face once again as she pulls out a small flask and hands it to you without twisting to face you, ‘Yeah, sorry, I was just spaced out.” You take the flask from her graciously, making sure that yet again your fingers are lingering atop hers just a bit longer than necessary. You can feel cubes of ice sloshing within the liquid as you uncap it at the neck, lifting it to your lips and guzzling down a couple of sips.

Water. It was supposed to be cooling, but it somehow could not quell the burning desire that vibrated your bones as you breathed in deeply, tearing your gaze away from her to stare at the nothingness surrounding you.

You can feel her irises on your face now, analyzing the same way you did her, not a minute before. The crunch of foil reaches your ears, signifying she’s done with her meal, meanwhile, yours is still sitting beside you.

She does not ask why you haven’t touched it. She knows why.

She makes you just as nervous as you make her, even if your lips are nowhere near her skin like she so desperately wants them to be. You’ve kissed her before.

Numerous times. But somehow this seemed different, and Ellie wasn’t sure if that was a realization that should strike her with fear, or numb her fingers with desire. It was true that you both decided not to label whatever you both had going on, everyone knew that it was her bed that you’d seek at the end of the night, and it brought her a swell of pride.

No one else but her smelled the scent of woodsmoke and citrus when the sun shone through her window. It was too strong, lingering like the sensation of the scarred bumps poking from beneath the ink of her tattoo. It was pleasant; a gaping wound that she’d rub salt into just to feel a delicious ache.

You were so close in distance but yet, so far from reach that it frustrated her to no end. Ellie wholeheartedly wants you in the same way you want her. So much so, that her heart thrums erratically against her chest, lips parted to intake the air you breathe.

Fuck.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” It comes out in a breathless whisper.

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, trying to keep the knot of anxiety coiling within your stomach at bay. “Is there someone else?”

An idiot. You were an idiot. The wide-eyed, frowning, and almost… disappointed look you give her solidifies that.

You lift a hand as if waving off your words. “Forget I even said anything.”

She grabs said hand, palms as warm as a lit fire, holding it to her chest, just an inch away from her heart. You can tell that you’ve left her speechless, and not for the reason that’s stitching itself in your brain. A reason she is quick to deny.

“What?” A chuckle tunnels from her throat. One full of pain and complete disbelief that you’d automatically assume the worst of her. “No, I care about you more than I do myself.”

Her admission sends a jolt of guilt coursing through you, the left leg crossing over the right as you stare at her hand clutched in yours, “It’s just…”

You trail off as she brings your hand up to her lips, warm breath fanning your skin before she presses a chaste kiss to the back of it.

She doesn’t stop there, plump flesh peppering small pecks up your arm. She hums against your shoulder blade, urging you to go on. The hairs on your arms raise.

“We never really talk about — oh…”

Warmth makes its way up your neck, her lips not relenting in their assault on your skin as she sucks and licks below your pulse point. It’s hot and wet, and — oh god, you cannot think of anything else.

“It’s kinda funny.” She says between kisses, her now free hand rubbing circles on the bone of your ankle before agonizingly finding its way up.

“Mhm. What is?” Your eyes are screwed shut, your very being growing giddy at the feel of her nails digging into the flesh of your inner thigh.

Ellie feels the heat pooling between your legs on her wandering fingers, as she grips the fat of your leg in the palm of her hand. This elicits a hiss of pleasure from you, so deep, so delectable, that she’d swallow it hole if her mouth was not already occupied.

“How you think I can feel anything for anyone else.” The ridges of her teeth skim across your jaw, and before you know it, she’s devouring you.

The force of her kiss knocks you off balance, sending you sprawled on your back, legs parting as she makes her way in between them, never once disconnecting your lips from a kiss so passionate and raw, that it makes your insides quiver with anticipation.

“I told you to forget about it.” It’s a quick response you manage to get out the second her lips detach from yours, a hand finding its way into her scalp, pulling her hair at the roots.

She stares down at you, eyes swimming with a certain need to see you — hear you writhing beneath her in pleasure.

“I intend to make sure we both do.”

#ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou

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contentloadingandstuff · 5 months ago

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Equals: Chapter II - Kitsune!Male!Reader x Yae Miko

A/N: Part two, by overwhelming popular demand. Does it live up to expectations? You know how it goes - it's up to you. Enjoy! CW: Nothing. Reminder - 'vixen' is a female fox, 'dog' is a male fox.

Miko's amethyst eyes trace the droplets as they roll down her window. The first rays of morning light pierce through the dark clouds in some places, but Narukami is still swamped in darkness. Her eyes sting from the lack of sleep, and, should she look in a mirror, there definitely would be red cracks. She taps her nails on the cup, enjoying how its warmth contrasts with the cold seeping through the window.

She doesn’t get much sleep lately. It’s all because of a certain fox that decided to invade her dull, daily routine just days prior. How can she sleep when there is somebody so unusual in her home, a mysterious story just waiting to be unraveled? The questions have been difficult to ignore ever since you got here. Who are you? Where do you come from? Why did you come here in the first place? While Miko wasn’t too familiar with what role dogs have, or had in society, she felt that your current state had much to do with your past. Sadly, it was definitely too early to pry into your life, seeing the state you are in. The state you are in…

Miko placed a talisman in your room, the nosy and curious woman that she is, to survey your state and react if need be. No, it wasn’t just because she was curious, not at all.

Most of your time was spent in a state between uncertain sleep and sharp wakefulness. Your ears worked around the clock, always erect and angled straight at any sound of footsteps coming from beyond your room. There wasn’t a point in time when you were relaxed, though you clearly attempted to show it by sleeping in the strangest positions imaginable. Miko was in disbelief when she saw you curled up on yourself, still in your human form. You were too big to be comfortable, something clear with how bent your back was. Nonetheless you rested this way, but as soon as you heard her enter the room, you rose up and, in a flash, were already kneeling by the bed, head angled down and gaze averted. When you spoke, it was only when answering her or in reaction to something she did. Your every word was carefully selected and spoken, all in a quiet, inoffensive tone of voice. A voice that was very pleasant to the ear, every vowel being perfectly articulated and accented. No matter how much she tried to get you to speak up, however, you always gave her the shortest answers.

Obviously, you didn’t leave your room at all aside from wary trips to the bathroom, always done after long periods of inactivity from either her or her human staff. You never once used the bath, choosing instead to clean yourself at the sink - even when she placed a fresh towel, a bathrobe, slippers and all other necessities in as obvious a place as possible. You just refused to touch them, but still sneaking glances at them from time to time, as if they were just out of your reach. It was the same for new clothes, books, snacks and nearly everything you weren’t given outright with an explicit directive from her in person. It seemed like there was an invisible wall between you and everything around you, her word or gesture being the only way to bring it down. She quickly realized this was the case and started to use it as a bridge of communication. Suddenly, she got to see you clean and pampered, dressing in more than just the outfit her servants put on you when you were rescued, and most importantly, she got to see you eat. You didn’t even look at the food she gave you at first, but after her clear order to eat it, you cleaned every plate she prepared for you. And you did it fast every time - as if somebody was to take it away at any moment, explicitly thanking her afterwards. When she heard it, her first instinct was to order you to stop, but she held herself back - it was unnecessary for the time being.

Definitely, Miko would find it amusing if the circumstances were different. After all, you acted just like a pet canine, to a point it was quite comical. The way you slept, the way you looked at the door, like a pet, waiting for its master’s return. But it was never the loving, affectionate kind of longing, no. It was always filled with palpable tension and stress, as if she was about to burst through the door and do something to you. On top of that, the whole matter of you never doing something without permission reeked of training. Again, if you were doing it on purpose to amuse her, it would have been quite cute and funny. But it wasn’t.

It wasn't, because you weren't playing. But she would only find the extent to which you were domesticated over the course of the months to come.

The first step to anything was to establish communication - to get you to talk. And Miko, although not the happiest about it, had a plan.

—

You stirr in your sleep at the sound of footsteps. They are silent - far quieter, more graceful than those of the earless foxes you saw sometimes. They brought dishes and chopsticks into the room for somebody, every day, but they were never eaten. Clothes too, neatly folded up and smelling of fresh laundry. Nobody picked them up either, and that must have annoyed the pink furred vixen owning the house. She spoke politely, but you quickly noticed the frustration in her voice. It seemed that the person would never come, so she decided to give you the things meant for them. You couldn't be happier - there were clothes, toiletries, pillows and, most importantly, food. Good, warm, fresh food that you dreamed of every night. And the earless would feed you every day, three times even. The portions were small at first, but gradually increased in volume until you could eat until you had enough.

The footsteps grow closer, now sounding out in concert with the constant hum of blood rushing through your ears. She was coming here, no doubt. This was another opportunity to prove you were worth keeping around, to thank her for all the things you get. To do just that, you had to be a good, diligent dog. The first step - always make your bed.

You uncurl and stretch your aching back, quickly shifting to a sitting position and standing up.

Suddenly, a sharp twist in your left calf causes you to stumble and fall forward. Instinctively, you bite down on your tongue to muffle the scream as your hands fly to grip the cramping muscle. It's nothing, you think to yourself, rubbing the aching spot. It was usually like this when you lounged for too long in that position, so you managed to stay calm. Gritting your teeth, you stand up and get to work on wobbly legs.

The woman's footsteps grow ever closer. She's already here. You quickly reset the bedsheet and arrange the pillows, throw on the duvet and fall to your knees beside the bed, facing the door. Your calf roars with pain in protest, but you do your best to ignore it.

She opens the door, but doesn't set foot in the room. You keep your eyes fixed on her hips, just as you were instructed countless times before.

“I see you're awake.” She says, her voice husky with exhaustion. “Did you sleep well, little one?”

Little one. Something about that pet name brings some warmth to your chest. Maybe she liked you, even just a little bit?

“Yes, miss.” You nod.

“Good.” She turns around and motions down the corridor. “Come with me.”

Without another word, she turns and moves out of sight. You scramble to your feet and quickly catch up to her. Ignoring the pain, you leave your room and quickly scan the corridor in search of her. She didn't seem like the type that enjoyed a slacker mate, and you definitely didn't want to get on her bad side - the longer you managed it, the better.

Moving deeper into the house, you soon arrive in what seems like the dining room. The centerpiece is a low table, carved minimalistically from polished ebony wood. The chairs, akin to any other you've seen in your life, are close to the ground, their bases topped off with a fitted pillow each. On the table, a rich and varied breakfast is already served. The scent of fresh fish and warm miso fills your nostrils, and you quickly drop your gaze to the floor - the smell was torment enough, and working up an appetite was always an easy way to disappointment.

“Join me - breakfast is already served. Help yourself.” She says, picking up a pair of chopsticks and getting to eating.

You sneak a glance at her silhouette, looking for a designated spot besides her seat at the top of the table. However, your eyes don't find the familiar nest of pillows to sit on. The vixen is surrounded only by chairs.

Maybe it's not ready yet. No problem, I can sit on the floor.

After waddling over to her, you lower yourself to your knees and sit back, suppressing a moan of pain. Your calf is still sore, and will likely remain this way for the foreseeable hour. You prop yourself up with your arms. Normally, you would rest your head on your mate's lap or against her leg, but you didn't know if your new owner liked being touched. Keeping yourself off her was risky, but not more than the opposite - last time you touched Matsui unprompted, she-

The fox sighs. “Take a seat, little one.”

Ripped out of your thoughts by her voice, you look at her chest, confused. By the table? But what would the guests think about a male sitting with them? She doesn't see it, but your head turns to the side as you try to make sense of her decision. “The one to your right.” Only when she speaks again do you stop and do as she says. It's weird, but every mistress has her kinks. Matsui-

“Eat. Please.”

The memory of your past mate is immediately cast aside when your favourite word reaches your ears. Finally! Thank the Raiden Shogun, the protector of Inazuma, for this meal…

Your head snaps up and you immediately get to surveying the food on the table. There's a lot of simple, yet varied dishes. Rice, egg, fish and tofu smiles at you from every corner of the table. You notice there are two portions of each dish, and your smile falters. So there's just one person coming… But there doesn't seem to be anything dedicated to you specifically. You scan it again, and spot a dish that has just one serving - tsukemono, pickled slices of lavender melon, carrot, matsutake. It does look tasty, but…

Sliding the small coaster closer, you stare at the food. So many delicious things, so many flavours, and you get to eat the one thing your body can't digest, something that is downright poisonous. This… Your hands tighten on your knees. Of course she would do that. Why did you expect anything different? You didn't deserve to be fed - you've eaten your share, and didn't provide anything in return. You got skinny. You didn't train. You didn't entertain her enough, with your body and your voice. She gave you everything, and you paid her back by being a waste of space. You forgot your place, so you got punished.

This is your fault. Again, you got excited for something, only to be severely disappointed. It hurts. Even after years, even after feeling it so much that you should have learned that only good dogs get food and comfort, you fell for it.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the pressure of tears forming in your eyes.

Stupid. I'm stupid. No, I'm worse than that. Other dogs would learn, they would never be in my place. I'm retarded, damaged in the brain from my birth, too stupid to even be a good pet. Just like Matsui said.

Despairing in silence, just as you were trained to do, you pay no attention to Miko - but she pays attention to you. Great attention. From the moment she heard the slightest shudder of breath, her attention was fully focused on you. Still, she chose to watch you from the side, careful not to scare you with her sudden reaction. But now something was clearly wrong.

“What's the matter?” She asks, turning her head to you. Her eyes widen when she sees you, eyes glued to the floor, ears flat against your head, body nearly completely still save for the subtle, teary shudders. Miko places her hand on yours. “Oh no… What happened? Are you in pain? Talk to me, please. Please!”

“I'm… s-sorry, miss… for being a useless… t-toy…” You try your best to speak clearly, but the sorrow wracking your mind makes that very difficult. “I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…”

“No, don't apologise! It's alright, tell me what's upsetting you.” Miko narrows her eyes. No, this won't work. I need to take charge. “Tell me this instant.”

At her raised tone, your head sinks lower, trying to make yourself look smaller. Maybe she'll take pity on me, you think. “I… I'm sorry, but please… Please don't make me eat it… I'll get really sick, miss…”

Miko lets go and leans away from you. What? She blinks once, then twice. Again, what? She can't help but scoff at the absurdity of the situation. You were crying over tsukemono? What a drama queen…

She gestures towards the plate. “And here I thought I hated pickled things… I know it's not good, but it won't kill you.”

She says this, and in your mind, a light flickers on. Is this… a test? Yes, this must be a test! A sudden wave of hope flows through you. If you answer her questions, prove to her that you know what you can and can't do, she'll be satisfied!

“It'll hurt my stomach, miss. It's n-not good for dogs. We aren't…” You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. “We aren't meant to eat refined food. It's in our nature to eat raw things, because we're not people.”

Miko's expression darkens as soon as the words leave your mouth. For the first time in years, no words come to mind the instant you stop speaking. She's disarmed by a claim this absurd - Yae Miko, the queen of wit and riposte, is speechless.

“Then, um… Eat whatever you like. Everything on this table is at your disposal.” She sighs.

“But… Isn't this for the guest?” you ask, a slight anticipation in your voice. Miko places her elbows on the table, propping up her face with her hands.

Her reply comes in a dry, lifeless tone. “There won't be any guests. It's all for you.” Of course you would think that. Or rather, that they made you think that.

She doesn't pay attention to your overtly-grateful thanks. She can't - not when her entire plan fell to pieces. Miko assumed that you had, at the very least, some sense of dignity. Lowered, of course, but still there. It was something to build upon, something that would let you understand that she has no intention to mistreat you. She already learned that you just weren't playing around at any point. That could only mean that your words are honest. That you, more or less, believe what you say.

Is this why you like raw salmon sushi? Because you believe that you're some animal, not meant to eat “refined” foods? Is that why you always sleep at the foot of the bed, why you knelt before her, why you never used chopsticks and why you hesitated to sit down just moments ago? Was that it?

Was all of this not because you thought yourself less than her, but because you didn't consider yourself a person?

This isn't for dogs.

Dogs aren't people.

Gods, what have they turned you into?

—

The rest of the meal was spent in silence. You deserved to eat in peace, and she needed time to think.

Miko expected that it might not be easy, and that she might have to go for some shock therapy at first. Ordering you around, someone shaken and with likely a very unpleasant experience with vixens in general, didn’t feel right. But it seemed that it wouldn’t be enough. She assumed you had basic ideas of what proper treatment is and that someone might be kind to you without ‘buts’ or ulterior motives, but that assumption was clearly baseless. Giving you freedom will result in nothing. You don’t know what ‘freedom’ entails, so giving it to you would leave you scared and scurrying back into your conditioned self in no time.

So she has to instill these ideas in you from the ground up. You didn’t know what they meant, so she has to teach you. And she will, mark her words. It won’t be an easy undertaking, but no fox as beautiful as you will be left to his fate.

To begin, however, a dynamic has to be established. A pecking order, of sorts.

“Dog?” She says when she sees you finishing up a bowl of miso soup.

Your ears perk up and angle themselves towards her in a flash. “Yes, miss?”

“Come here.”

Before long, you’re sitting on the floor in front of her.

“What is your name?”

You answer without thinking. “My name is Y/N.”

“Do you know, little one, what is the condition I provide you with food and shelter?” Miko asks, and although the words feel wrong, she forces them through her throat.

A pause from you. She can practically hear the gears turn in your cute, long-eared head. “You feed me and keep me warm, and I obey you, miss. Whatever you say, I ought to do.”

“Good. As you said yourself, my house - my rules.” She snaps her fingers. “Now, listen to me very carefully, Y/N.”

Miko stands up. Her gaze falls light lightning on your head, demanding respect. You lower your ears in a display of submission appropriate for the situation. “What has been done to you by your previous ‘mates’ is nothing short of abhorrent. You do not see it now, for they rotted away your spirit, will and masculinity in a golden cage. They turned you into a toy, a sad shell of a should-be proud fox. And I will undo whatever they did to you - whether you like it or not.” Your heart beats faster. You’re not exactly sure what this vixen is talking about, but it’s not yours to understand - she’s the vixen, not you. You know that your job is to listen and satisfy her every whim. You nod, completely unaware of what exactly you are approving of.

“Yes, miss.”

Her brow furrows, tone growing sharper. “Silence!”

You shudder, and an apology starts to form on your lips, but you’re quickly cut off.

“I have a name - I am Miko of the Yae family. I am not a ‘miss’, a ‘lady Miko’ and especially not your ‘mistress’ or ‘owner’. From now on you, Y/N, are to call me that. Miko. Just Miko.” She places her hand on your head, your ears moving to create petting space. It remains still, however. “Now stand up.”

The leg still hurts, but you obey her. Slowly, as you stand up, Miko needs to raise her hand higher and higher, gradually covering your face with her forearm due to the size difference. Nevertheless, she doesn’t let go.

“For now, we are not equal, as you do not understand the meaning of this word. But in time, you will. I promise.”

An equal… Finally, your eyes find hers. You look into her deep, beautiful amethyst eyes. Though her voice is strict, they hide… nothing. No superiority, no loathing, no condescension or patronisation. You are not looked at as a pet.

It feels new, but… not scary.

Whatever her intentions, they don’t seem malicious. Still, you can only hope that she won’t hurt you.

“Yes, Miko.”

Her hand moves down to your cheek, evoking not stress, but a strange tingle in your chest. Yae Miko’s eyes soften.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you something for your leg. Nothing hides from me. But do tell me next time, yes?"

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact yae miko #genshin impact miko #yae miko #yae miko x reader #yae miko x male reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x y/n

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

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summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn��t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “they really like things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for their birthday.”

“be honest with me. do they even know you’re courting them?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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irisintheafterglow · 2 years ago

Text

if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.”

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort.

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.”

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?”

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again.

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent.

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you.

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.”

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well.

Please get me out of this.

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence.

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen.

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.”

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved.

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features.

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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daisykihannie · 1 year ago

Text

𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙺.𝚂𝙼 + 𝚈.𝙹𝙽

pairing: Jeongin x afab gn!reader x Seungmin

warnings: smut, NSFW, oral giving & reacieving, degradation, praise, mommy kink, pup kink, threesome, dub-con, intoxication, hand kink, power switch, messy, choking on cock, Jeongin and Seungmin kiss and get handsy with each other, rough, unprotected sex, etc.

a/n: i more than likely missed some warnings since this took me two weeks to write, having to fit it around my work schedule.

Written for my lovely moot @chvnmax who made this request.

The atmosphere inside the club was heavy but in the best way. The bass was radiating from the floor, through the soles of your feet and traveling up your spine. god, you missed this. Work had gotten so stressful lately with all the new contracts being made with the trainees and renewing old contracts with a lot of the current idols and groups.

You’d been working under Park Jinyoung at JYP entertainment for a few years now and it wasn’t bad work, you got paid well, but you didn’t have a ton of free time lately and it had started to get to you.

Luckily you had been granted a small break and you were itching to get back into the clubs, get wasted, and have fun. You’d earned this, you deserve to let off some steam and pent up stress.

You worked your way through the sweaty bodies that were grinding against one another, clouds of smoke billowing through the air and tangling into your senses, before finally making it to the bar.

Taking your place on a barstool, the bar tender flashed a dazzling smile your way before taking your order. You ordered three lemon drops to start, downing them all in quick succession before sucking on a lime wedge to satiate the burn coating your taste buds.

You spun around in the barstool, crossing your left leg over your right and placing your elbows on the bar behind you and leaning back against the wooden surface. You took a moment to survey the crowd around you, your eyes sweeping between various bodies tangled together on the dance floor before they landed on a small group of men that were nestled comfortably in a large corner booth on the opposite side of the room.

Their eyes were already on you, all of them being insanely attractive, you could’ve sworn they were idols at your company but you didn’t interact with idols on a regular basis considering you spend most of your time in the offices, so you figured you were probably mistaken.

You watched as two of the men’s eyes raked up and down your body, their gazes burning into your flesh with the intensity and hunger displayed in them. As their eyes traveled from the heels you wore and up your legs, a smirk pulled at the corner of your lips and you shifted your legs. You slowly moved your left leg off of your right, resting them next to one another before pointing your toes and putting your right leg over the left to put on a tiny show for the men.

They watched your movements, eyes continuing their assent on your body in a languid manner, taking in every curve and detail of the outfit that clung tightly to your skin.

When your eyes met with theirs, tingles shot up your spine like hot flashes of electricity. Their aura was powerful and it easily commanded your attention without much effort. You ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender, maintaining eye contact with your head turned towards the bartender but your eyes stayed locked on the ginger man in the booth’s for a moment before shifting to the ravenette seated next to him.

Taking your new drink into your hand, you used the tip of your tongue to guide the straw between your lips with a smirk still on your face.

Knowing that they were still watching you attentively, you decided to lock eyes with the ginger man again before dragging your eyes downwards at your own languid pace, taking in all of his features from his sharp jawline, to the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, down to his collarbones that peeked out from where his white button down shirt was left open at the first two buttons and exposing a small portion of his chest.

You continued your decent down his chest and over his abdomen where you could tell he was hiding abs underneath the thin fabric, down to his hips and the hand that rested comfortably on his inner thigh. His hands made your mouth water, the long and slender fingers adorned with silver rings and the veins that protruded under the tan skin.

Your eyes moved back up his body just as slow, meeting with his once again before licking your lips, his eyes breaking their connection with yours to watch the pink muscle coat your lips with a light sheen of saliva, your eyes traveling to the ravenette next.

Your eyes flicking up to the almost wet looking hair that was parted and styled to lay over his eyesbrows but leaving his forehead exposed. He wore glasses with a thin, silver, wire frame that accented his cheekbones and square jaw. His throat was long and looked so painfully soft, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there for a moment, his adam’s apple shaped like a heart. He wore a beige sweater that had a wide neck, exposing where his broad shoulders and neck connected as it hung loosely to the side.

Your eyes then landed on his tiny, slutty, waist and his dainty hips. Traveling down to his thick and muscular thighs and you could’ve swore you were drooling now. Your eyes traced the outline of his body back up and meeting his eyes again, his lips pulling into a crooked smile that had you squeezing your thighs together without realizing.

They both looked beyond delicious and you’d never been this aroused before, you three hadn’t even spoke but your mind was filled with thoughts of the ginger man’s pretty hands all over your body and the ravenette’s thighs between your own. It was probably just the alcohol and your pent up stress right?

You shot them one last wink before turning back around to face the bar and ordering another gin and tonic. You’ve shown them that you’re just as interested in them as they are you, the ball is in their court now. It’s up to them if they wish to approach you now or not. Luckily, they didn’t leave you waiting long, next thing you knew there’s one firm but still gentle hand on your left shoulder and a hand gently ghosting on the small of your back with feather light touches of his fingertips.

“Care to dance, pretty?” the one on your right said, close to your ear so he didn’t need to shout over the music. You turned to be met with the sharp fox-like eyes of the ginger man. “Think you can keep up with both of us, jagi?” the ravenette said on your left, meeting your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow. You smirked devilishly in response before picking up your fresh drink, swishing the liquid around the glass. “I don’t wanna waste my brand new drink boys. Think you two can be good, patient boys while i finish this?” you said slightly taunting them.

Both of their eyes shot open, widening at your words. Clearly, they were caught off guard by you asking them to be good boys, probably not used to anyone not easily getting on their knees for them. They seemed like they were used to being dominant and in control, making you want to challenge them a bit. You weren’t gonna make this so easy for them, even with how turned on you already are.

“Do you like good boys?” the ravenette asked with a slight blush rising to his cheeks. “or do you like a challenge?” the ginger followed up. Their words had heat pooling in your abdomen, causing you to shift just slightly in your seat, using your still crossed legs to provide a slight bit of friction to your core. You needed to keep your composure, and luckily they didn’t seem to notice your slight struggle.

“What if i said i liked both?” you wrapped your lips around your straw again, flickering your eyes between the two men who still stood on either side of you. Both of their composures crumbling slightly under the weight of your words as goosebumps pickled across the skin on the arms.

They both shared a look with one another as you continued to slowly drink from your glass, purposely dragging this out as much as you could while they fought to be good for you. They both seemed to be struggling with being good and you weren’t entirely sure who was gonna be the most challenging but that alone excited you.

Once you were down to the last bit of your drink, only a sip or two left, their patience seemed to snap. They spun you around in your seat before each one took a hand and dragged you out into the center of the dance floor. The ravenette found his place in front of you and the ginger slotted himself behind you.

The ginger man’s hand found their home on your hips while the ravenette took both your hands and placed them on his shoulders before his hands made their way to rest on your waist above the ginger’s hands. They sandwiched your body between theirs, caging you in like you were prey trapped between two predators.

“i don’t recall agreeing to dance boys.” you teased, causing them both to tense up and begin to retreat from your body. Before they could get too far, your grip on the man in front of you’s shoulders tightened and you pushed your body back against the wall of muscles behind you. They got the hint and closed back in on you, beginning to move languidly with the rhythm of the music.

“I’m Y/N. What should i call you two?” you didn’t want to just refer to them as Ginger and Ravenette. “If we told you that, you’d have to sign an NDA, Jagi.” the man behind you purred into your ear as he began to grind his hips against the plush of your ass. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling of something hard against you and you were almost sure it wasn’t his phone in his pocket.

“Is that true pup?” you asked the man in front of you and you could’ve sworn he’d let out a whimper at the pet name but the music was so loud, you couldn’t be sure. “It’s true honey.” he said matter-of-factly with a smirk on his lips. You hummed in response, dancing against both men for a moment before pulling the man in front even closer and using one hand to grab the jaw of the man behind you, guarenteeing their full attention was on you. “I’ll sign.” was all you said before releasing both of them.

“The name is Jeongin and he’s Seungmin.” the ginger purred against the shell of your ear before taking it between his teeth with a gentle nibble, his breath fanning across your ear and causing a shiver to course through you. The names sounded slightly familiar in your buzzed brain but the arousal mixed with the alcohol hand you feeling dizzy in their grips so the thought of familiarity was quickly replaced by the sensation of their hands burning into your flesh.

You dragged your fingertips down the biceps of Seungmin while continuing to roll your ass back against Jeongin. The music taking over your senses as you continued to dance against the men that had your caged between their firm bodies, leaving you a bit more pliant than you’d expected to become. You felt your core begin to pulse as both their colognes flooded your nose, making you realize that you needed them in ways you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. You needed their bare skin on yours, needed their mouths worshiping your body, their pretty fingers inside you, their cocks buried inside you as they used you as their cocksleeve.

You were snapped out of your sinful fantasy of them as the ravenette spoke in a low growl. “wanna take this somewhere a bit more private? let us be your good boys?” and maybe you whimpered at his words but who would know with the volume of the music.

You bit your lower lip as your half lidded eyes met Seungmin’s that were swimming with lust and desire, and nodding your head in response. Soon enough, the ravenette was in front of you, holding your hand to guide you to an empty room as Jeongin tailed behind, holding your other hand.

it didn’t take long to spot an empty room, luckily these specific types of clubs are fully aware of the alcohol induced horny hazes that their patrons tend to fall under and had rentable rooms for this specific purpose.

The three of you walked into the room and Seungmin flicked on the light switch, illuminating the room in a red hue from the bars of led lights that were installed to the ceiling and once you were all inside, Jeongin locked the door behind the three of you.

They didn’t waste anymore time before Jeongin was flipping you around by the waist to have you facing him as his lips crashed into yours. The force of the kiss had you stumbling back slightly, your back connecting with seungmin’s chest. Seungmin’s hands rested on your hips when he caught you from falling, using them to roll your hips, ass grinding back against his crotch and his lips met the bare expanse of your neck.

Seungmin was almost lazy with the way he worked his mouth over your skin, using the tip of his tongue to trace your jugular vein, eliciting a whimper from your throat that Jeongin happily swallowed down as his kisses became more desperate. Jeongin’s tongue danced messily with your own, licking along your teeth and causing saliva to spill from the corners of your mouth as he took his chance to make you start falling apart from his mouth alone.

It didn’t help that Seungmin had found your sweet spot while exploring your throat with open mouth kisses and dragging his teeth across the soft flesh. Your knees had threatened to buckle more than once but Seungmin held you up with the bruising grip he had on your hips, the pads of his finger tips digging in to wrap around the bone slightly. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed and trying to desperately cling to the remaining thread of your sanity. you refused to be this easy.

You pushed jeongin away with your hands that held onto his shoulders, a string of saliva leaving your lips still connected before it broke away. You spun away from the two of them, Seungmin’s hands leaving your hips as you sauntered over to the bed. You crawled up the mattress, shaking your ass to taunt the two males, from the foot of the bed to the headboard where you got comfortable and rested your back against the wood with pillows piled beneath your lower back.

“Why don’t you two be good for me and sit? One on each side of me.” you called out and ran your finger tips in small circles over the silk sheets where you wanted each of them to sit. They obeyed you easily, their pants doing nothing to hide their arousal with the tents they were both sporting. You weren’t doing much better but luckily you wore black slacks so the wetness that had completely soaked through your underwear wasn’t showing.

When they both took their places on either side of you, propped up on their knees and sitting on their heels, they reached forward to touch you. Jeongin reached for your left thigh that sat closest to him and seungmin reached for your hip bone again. “Who gave you two permission to touch? Because, I certainly did not.” the boys both blinked at your words and retracted their hands, placing them atop their thighs and hanging their heads, looking like two puppies who’d just gotten scolded. Cute.

“Good boys.” You purred and put a hand on each of their cheeks, using your thumb to pet them softly and they both leaned into the touch. “Now, you’ll listen to what i say, if you do a good job, you’ll get a reward.” You commanded and they both nodded in response, shy but showing you that they can, in fact, be good boys.

“Jeonginnie~ be a good boy and take of my pants yeah? only my pants.” the ginger licked his lips hungrily as his eyes flicked from your own down to your heat and then back up, eyes half lidded in lust. He made quick work of your belt, unclasping the buckle before undoing the button and zipper of your pants with shaky, overly excited hands. You couldn’t help but watch his pretty hands work and you felt heat pooling in your stomach again.

“Minnie baby~ kiss me.” was all you said to cause Seungmin’s eyes to leave Jeongin’s hands and snap back up to you when you wrapped both your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him forward. He had to catch himself by placing his right hand on the head board and his left was planted only millimeters from your chest on the bed next to you.

the kiss was hot and desperate as you took over control of them kiss. Your tongue slipping into his mouth easily and licking at everywhere you could reach. The ravenette let out soft moans and whimpers that were easily swallowed by your lips and tongue as Jeongin finally got your pants off. You felt his finger tip swipe across the soaked center of your underwear, applying slightly more pressure to the bundle of nerves.

One of your hands slipped into Seungmin’s hair and tangled his hair around your fingers before tightening your grip and pulling him away from you hard. A whimper escaped him as his head bent back with the force. You looked to Jeongin now with furrowed brows and spit slicked lips, not letting up on Seungmin’s hair. “Jeongin. I told you to ONLY remove my pants. You did not have permission to touch me so you don’t get a reward.” the ginger pouted slightly but you turned your attention to Seungmin before entertaining him any further.

“Minnie has been such a good pup for me. Why don’t you eat mommy out as a reward huh?” you cooed and released the grip on his hair and pet his hair softly to soothe the burn on his scalp. “Y-yes mommy. i’ll be so good for you.” seungmin almost whimpered as he slotted himself between your legs and began leaving open mouthed kisses along the inside of either thigh, removing your underwear and lifting both your legs up to rest over his shoulders.

He wasted no time before diving in and licking a stripe between your folds, a groan falling from his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. “You taste so good baby.” he groaned out before lapping at your juices like he’d been stranded in the desert and this was his first drink in weeks. Your hand carded through his black locks before tangling your fist into his hair and holding him in place while you rode his tongue in the way that felt heavenly to you.

Jeongin remained seated to your side on his knees, his nails digging into the flesh on his thighs as he watched Seungmin lap at your heat hungrily and rut against the mattress. His cock was painfully hard and straining against the tight fabric of his pants. He had to take a deep breath to keep his hands from wrapping around his cock through his pants.

You watched the ginger trying his best to remain obedient, the sight of him trying so hard for you and the feeling of Seungmin’s skilled tongue tearing you apart had heat pooling in your abdomen and you could feel yourself beginning to slip into a hazy, submissive state of mind. You wanted them to use you, ruin you, break you apart and piece you back together to their own liking. The need was almost primal.

You felt your high approaching quickly, your thighs spasming over the broad shoulders of the man who lie pliant between your legs. “F-fuck… just like that- god!” you moaned out and Seungmin sped up with his mouthing to get you to cum on his tongue, he needed to swallow your climax down and savor every taste you’d leave on his tongue.

It didn’t take much longer to have you tumbling off the cliff as your climax wracked through your veins like lava, your thighs clamping down on the sides of Seungmin’s head instinctually as your head was thrown back against the pillows and wanton moans spilled from your lips. He had you seeing white stars as they exploded behind your eyelids, his tongue gently lapping at your core as you came back down to earth after swallowing everything you gave him with a few guttural groans punched from his gut.

“fuck- y/n… you look and sound so pretty when you fall apart.” Jeongin groaned from beside you. “you wanna taste how sweet they are?” Seungmin asked as he climbed up from between your legs and up your body, leaning towards jeongin, causing them to meet above you. You watched as their tongues danced together above you in a sloppy kiss. You heard Jeongin moan into Seungmin’s mouth and the sight alone had your core throbbing in need again.

“They do taste heavenly on your tongue Hyung.” Jeongin pulled away from the other male, eyes fluttering as he savored your taste. They dove back into a sloppy kiss, Jeongin’s hand left his lap to palm seungmin over his pants where the older was painfully straining against the fabric. A whimper escaped his mouth as his hips stuttered and bucked into the palm of Jeongins hand.

“Such needy boys~” you cooed from beneath them, your core yearning to be filled by them, the sight above you making you feel dizzy with want. “Wanna be mommy’s good boys and use me? you’ve earned it.” you moaned out and spread your legs open for them again, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Fuck- yes please?” Jeongin broke the kiss to reply, still applying pressure to Seungmin’s aching cock as they both looked down at you, eyes raking over the way you presented yourself for them. The dark, lust filled eyes of both men has you feeling hot, needy, and a little desperate.

Seungmin moves away from your body when you pat his thigh as a sign to let you up. You move away from the headboard and sit on your knees towards the foot of the bed, unbuttoning your shirt and letting it fall off your shoulders to meet your pants somewhere on the floor. “Well? Don’t just sit there. Let me see those pretty cocks.” you purred, snapping the two men out of their haze of watching you strip. They spring into action, stumbling through taking off their own clothes, Jeongin almost tripping as he clambered back onto the bed.

Seungmin sits where you were previously, back resting against the headboard. His cock was flushed red and angry as it leaked pre-cum where it rested against his abs. You got on your hands and knees, back arched to present your pretty hole to the youngest, still soaked with Seungmin’s saliva and your own arousal. Jeongin groaned at the sight, losing his patience as he dipped his index finger and middle finger inside of you, a whine escaping your lips as you pushed back against his lithe fingers and your cheek rested against Seungmin’s muscular thigh.

His fingers curled into you, hiting the bundle of nerves that were nestled inside your heat with ease thanks to the length of his digits. You could hear him shuffling against the sheets to take his place behind you, slipping his fingers out of you and earning a whine of protest at the feeling of emptiness. You lifted your head off of Seungmin’s thigh to shoot the younger a glare over your shoulder, receiving a cocky smirk in response.

Seungmin wrapped his fingers around your jaw to pull your head to face him again. His cock was in his hand as he dragged just the tip across the slightly swollen, pink flesh of your lips, coating them in his pre-cum and groaning at the sight. Your half lidded eyes stared at him, causing him to pull his lower lip between his teeth as he continued to paint your lips and the corners of your mouth with the clear fluid.

At that moment, Jeongin slammed his long cock into you and bottomed out in one thrust. You wailed out at the stretch, pain and pleasure fogging your brain as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Seungmin used your surprise to thrust up into your mouth, cock hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag and swallow around him as copious amounts of saliva poured into your mouth.

All their waiting caused a build up of frustration as they abused both of your holes. Jeongin angled his brutal thrusts to slam into your sweet spot repeatedly and Seungmin kept fucking into your mouth and choking you on his cock. The sounds of Jeongin’s hips meeting the plush of your ass filled the room, mixing with the sounds of Seungmin’s tip hitting your uvula over and over again, pulling gags out of you as saliva spilled out of the corner of your lips, drenching his cock and pubes thoroughly.

“Fuck- such a filthy cock slut. Like being plugged with two cocks at once? huh?” Jeongins words rushed straight to your gut, tightening the knot that was forming inside you. You whined around Seungmin’s cock as he shoved his hands into your hair and pulled you down on his cock. Your nose buried in his pubes as you gagged repeatedly around his tip that was buried in your throat. Each time your stomach tensed with a gag, you clenched hard around the cock buried inside you, eliciting almost animalistic groans and growls from the youngest.

“God- making them choke on your- ngghhh cock makes them clench so- FUCK!” Jeongins hips stuttered as he slammed into you hard and painted your walls white with his release. His seed filled you so full that his cum was leaking out around his cock, matting his own pubes together with the mess. Finally Seungmin pulled you off his cock so you could breathe, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you panted, saliva poured out of your mouth and Seungmin was quick to use his hand to meet his own climax.

His own white ropes began to paint your tongue and you wrapped your lips around him again, suckling at the tip and swallowing everything he gave you. Soft whines escaped the ravenette and hisses of overstimulation left Jeongin who was still buried inside of you when your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. The saltiness on your tongue was enough to have you clenching around Jeongin again as you came on his cock and he rocked his hips through his overstimulation to help you ride out your climax.

After you’d swallowed everything, you pulled off Seungmin with a pop and Jeongin pulled out of you just in time for you to collapse onto the bed, cum spilling out of you onto the sheets, your head falling to Seungmin’s thigh again. You were so so so beyond gone, body trembling and vision blurry. You could hear the men speaking but it sounded like they were underwater.

You barely registered Seungmin’s fingers carding through your sweat soaked hair. You barely registered Jeongin leaving gentle kisses along the expanse of your spine and shoulders. You barely registered the youngest needing your ass and you didn’t notice when he’d taken out his phone to film his cum spilling from your fluttering hole.

You weren’t sure how long you’d layed there but when you came to, you were wrapped up in the arms of both men laying on either side of you and you didn’t feel sticky like you’d expected to from the sweat and cum on your body and between your thighs.

“There you are darling~” Jeongin cooed softly from behind you. “Welcome back to earth jagi.” Seungmin followed up, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open to see that you were cleaned and dressed and so were they. “Hmmm” you hummed out, feeling like you were floating still from the best sex you’ve had in a long time, honestly probably the best sex you’ve ever had.

The next day you had to go to work, still feeling the best you’ve felt in a while with the two men having fucked all the tension and stress from your body. Even your boss calling you at 6am didn’t seem to bring you down.

“Hey L/N F/N, the manager for Stray Kids was unable to make it in today and since it is such short notice, you’ll be in charge of covering for him temporarily. You’ll meet with them in the practice room on the 8th floor at exactly 7am. Do not be late.” and with that, Park Jinyoung hung up. Still, you were in too good a mood to let this faze you.

At exactly 6:58am you arrived at the door to the practice room and you could hear the men shouting inside. You opened the door and immediately fell into a 90° bow, hinged at the waist to greet the men.

“Hello, I am L/N F/N and i will be temporarily taking over for your manager until he returns. Please be kind to me.” You stood back up from your bow with a bright smile on your face as your eyes traveled across the faces of 8 stunning men staring at you.

Your smile fell and your eyes went wide as your gaze met the two men from last night with the biggest shit-eating grins plastered to there face. Jeongin spoke up first. “Don’t worry, we are all some very good boys.”

#daisyhannie #skz smut #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz jeongin #jeongin smut #jeongin x reader #jeongin #seungmin #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin

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hwalovs · 5 months ago

Text

The Apprentice 1/?

Chapter One; Deer, Fox, or Rabbit?

Pairing; Viktor x Vampire!Reader Warnings; none too extreme? Blood drinking (animal), mainly just yappers yapping about things. it’s a little twilight coded, so what?? sue me! Word Count; 7.8k

Summary; Finding an Apprentice should be easy. You have a simple task, one that cannot be handled lightly. Yet, the mind is a unique thing, and each one you've come across don't seem to meet your specific qualifications. Until your dear friend and confidant, Heimerdinger, brings forth a man with a bright ambition and a determination that could rival anyone.

A/n; oh god,, another series?? this one ahs been cooking for the last few days, and after finishing arcane and igniting my LOVE for Viktor, i decided it was time to try my hand at writing him :>> my darling friend @disturbyn beta read this so I’m no longer liable for financial instability!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

“My dear friend,” a voice chimes, and you smile. Dropping to a knee, you open your arms to greet him with a brief hug. He was warm, fur soft as it touched your cheek. He pulls away, and with bright eyes he says your name. He was dressed in his usual councilman attire, blue fabric complimented with gold.

“Councilor Heimerdinger, what a pleasant sight to see.”

He waves you off, stepping away to give you a glare “drop the formalities, would you?”

Shrugging, you rise to your full height, tipping your head to your driver who opened your door. The streets of Piltover were bustling with life, people walking in and out of the building. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud in the sky, the buildings of Piltover glimmering and dazzling. On the rare occasions that you visit, the city never fails to amaze you with its beauty. More innovations included, more steps into the future.

Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements.

Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter.

“I find it customary, dear friend,” you jest, beginning to climb the steps of the building. It was large, almost doubling the size of the one from the last Inventors Competition you attended. It was hosted in Piltover this year, situated right between the heart of the city, and the bridge that leads to Zaun. The building was a museum, repurposed for the day. Three sets of double doors were propped open, allowing people to freely go in and out. Marble steps lead the way up, the chains on your boots clinking with each step you take.

“Yet, you’ve arrived late,” Heimerdinger says, “not very customary of you, my dear.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”

He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”

“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably.

Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate.

Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings.

Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before.

He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake.

“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”

“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”

Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days.

Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore.

“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”

He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”

“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”

He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”

Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.

“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”

Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”

Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast.

The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions.

“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human.

“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in.

Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---

Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---

Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---

First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---

Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.

Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary.

In italicised gold ink, was your name.

Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all.

“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way.

“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”

You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest.

“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”

He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”

Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.

Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles.

Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name.

“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.

“I do, my dear.”

“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor.

“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours.

“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees.

“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top.

He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.

“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”

Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest.

The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air.

There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely.

Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes.

The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked.

You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand.

Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”

“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name.

“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”

Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”

He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”

Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.

One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man.

“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”

Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, not swayable, then?”

He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly.

The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously.

“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”

That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil.

“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”

“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”

Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”

One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs.

Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating.

With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head.

“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight.

Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following.

My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle.

Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well.

“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back.

“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes.

Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”

“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”

A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently.

“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”

He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”

Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.

“You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”

It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself.

Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”

You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”

“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms.

The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”

“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”

Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”

“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”

“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”

A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?

“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.

“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”

“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”

“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”

Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry.

“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”

You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”

“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”

“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers.

“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”

“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long.

You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.

You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be.

“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”

“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.

“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”

Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”

Ice water, poured directly over your head.

“Heimerdinger-“

“Professor-“

Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here.

“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”

Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him.

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side.

“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”

Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.

“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”

“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination.

“He isn’t the right fit.”

Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”

A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.

“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”

“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”

The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”

You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”

“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”

“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”

It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”

“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”

You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”

“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”

Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare.

You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?

Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall. The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand.

Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names.

First place, Viktor —-

There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.

“Where to, my lady?”

Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”

“As you wish, my lady”

------

Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls.

One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine.

“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”

You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing.

“Rabbit.”

She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other.

Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging.

“I’m not thirsty.”

You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip.

Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way.

“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”

“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs.

“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”

She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”

“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”

“And why is that, my lady?”

You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”

You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting.

“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”

The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life.

“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back.

Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress.

“Indulge me, what does it look like?”

“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”

Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”

You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land.

“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”

Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!”

“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”

She was right, and you knew it.

The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist.

“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.

“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs.

“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.

“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”

Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks.

They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline.

“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.

“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”

“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly.

“Let him in, then”

Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk.

It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door.

Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding.

“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”

Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck.

His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly.

It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was.

“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips.

Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass.

Ah, the wine.

“Say again?”

He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about.

“I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“

“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled.

“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“

“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”

Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-

Thick liquid?

Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly.

“Is that blood?”

You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it.

“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”

His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say.

“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”

Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you.

“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently.

“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed.

“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”

Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs.

“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”

Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.

“A vampire?”

“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again.

“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped.

“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”

“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”

“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”

“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front.

The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire

“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest.

“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”

Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice.

“Then I will help you.”

Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”

Want to be tagged? comment or send a message! ill gladly tag you <3

#viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor imagines #viktor arcane x reader #arcane #viktor arcane #fluff #angst #The Apprentice #HwaWrites #arcane imagine #viktor x you

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misswynters · 6 months ago

Text

Buddy, the snowman

featuring. s2 jayce x reader

a/n. i want everyone to picture s2 long haired jayce for this (my lil hispanic boy)

Piltover in winter was a different kind of magic. The city’s usual bustle slowed as the snow draped over rooftops, blanketed the cobbled streets, and softened the sharp edges of its mechanical marvels. The air was crisp, filled with the faint scent of pine, and for once, it seemed as if even the gears of progress paused to appreciate the quiet beauty of the holiday season.

You stood on the edge of the park, bundled in a thick coat, scarf, and gloves, waiting for Jayce. Who is always late, as usual. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you shifted your weight, your breath visible in the cold air. When he finally arrived, he was juggling a small box of cookies he’d picked up on the way, a thermos of hot cocoa, and his scarf, which he hadn’t managed to wrap around his neck yet.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called out, flashing you a sheepish grin. “I got held up by Mrs. Halloway. She wanted to tell me all about her snowflake shaped cookie cutters.”

You laughed, reaching out to grab the thermos before it slipped from his hands. “Let me guess, you were too polite to escape?”

“She cornered me at the shop,” he admitted, his breath clouding in the air as he finally wrestled the scarf into place. “But hey, I brought cookies!”

“Then all is forgiven,” you teased, linking your arm with his as you walked into the park.

The snow was untouched, sparkling under the late morning sun. Children’s laughter echoed from the far side of the park where a sledding hill was busy with activity. You and Jayce gravitated toward a quieter spot, where the snow lay pristine and the trees offered some shelter from the wind. “I can’t remember the last time I built a snowman,” you mused, surveying the scene.

“Then we’re fixing that today,” Jayce declared, already kneeling to scoop up a handful of snow. He packed it tightly, forming the beginnings of a snowball. “You start the bottom, I’ll handle the head.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You trust me with the foundation?”

“Of course. You’re the architect here, aren’t you?” he teased, his grin warm and inviting.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you got to work. The snow was perfect, soft enough to mold but firm enough to hold its shape. You began rolling the snowball across the ground, watching it grow larger and larger. Meanwhile, Jayce fashioned the middle and top sections, his gloved hands moving with practiced ease.

“Hey,” he called out after a while, his voice tinged with amusement. “Is this snowman going to rival the height of the council tower? Because it’s looking like you’re aiming for a structural masterpiece.”

You stepped back, admiring your work. The base was enormous, almost up to your waist. “Bigger is better ,” you retorted with a grin, dusting the snow off your gloves. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

Jayce chuckled, hoisting the midsection of the snowman in his arms. “Fair point. But if this guy topples over, I’m blaming the architect.”

You laughed as he carefully balanced the second snowball on top of the base. “You’re not exactly the most careful engineer I know, Jayce. Remember that time you accidentally launched yourself across the workshop?”

“That was one time!” he shot back, laughing as he adjusted the snowball until it was perfectly centered. “And I still say it was an unintended success.”

“You’re lucky I was there to catch you,” you teased, rolling up the final snowball for the head. Jayce stepped aside to help you lift it, his hands brushing against yours as you both placed it on top. The snowman took shape quickly, its proportions absurdly exaggerated but undeniably charming. Jayce pulled a handful of random gadgets and bolts from his pocket, because of course he carried those everywhere, and started sticking them into the snowman’s torso.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching in disbelief as he carefully attached a cogwheel where a button might go.

“Improving him,” Jayce said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Every snowman deserves a touch of innovation.”

You snorted. “This is why you can’t leave well enough alone.”

“I prefer to think of it as creativity,” he said, leaning back to admire his work. “What do you think? Too much?” The snowman now looked like a combination between a friendly holiday figure and an early prototype from Jayce’s workshop. His scarf draped around its neck (stolen from Jayce’s coat), the twig arms were bent at jaunty angles, and the “buttons” were a mismatched collection of gears and screws.

“It’s… unique to say the least,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But he needs a name. How about… Buddy?”

Jayce grinned. “I like it. He’s definitely our buddy now.”

The two of you stood back, admiring your creation. The late morning sun glinted off the snow. But then, out of nowhere, a snowball hit you square in the shoulder. “Jayce!” you yelped, spinning around to see him grinning mischievously, another snowball already in his hand.

“Consider it a christening for Buddy,” he said with a wink, launching the second snowball toward you.

You dodged, laughing, and scooped up some snow of your own. “Oh, you’re going to regret that!” The next few minutes devolved into a chaotic snowball fight. You darted behind trees, narrowly avoiding Jayce’s throws while lobbing your own with surprising accuracy. He wasn’t as agile as you, but his aim was scarily good, and more than once you ended up covered in snow.

When you finally called a truce, you were both breathless and laughing, your cheeks pink from the cold and exertion. Jayce flopped onto the snow, spreading his arms and legs to make a snow angel.

“Not bad,” he said between breaths. “But I think I won.”

“You wish,” you said, collapsing beside him. “I hit you way more times than you hit me.”

“Debatable,” he replied, turning his head to look at you. His brown eyes sparkled with warmth, and his smile was softer now, less mischievous. The two of you lay there in the snow, staring up at the pale blue sky. The world felt quiet, the only sounds the distant laughter of children and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.

“Thanks for dragging me out here,” Jayce said after a while. “I needed this.”

You turned your head to face him, your breath visible in the cold air. “Me too. It’s nice to just... be for a while. No council meetings, experiments, or deadlines.”

“Just you, me, and our little Buddy,” he said with a chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. You felt your cheeks grow warmer, though whether it was from the cold or something else, you weren’t sure. “And the cookies,” you reminded him, sitting up and reaching for the box he’d brought.

Jayce sat up too, brushing snow from his coat. “Right. Can’t forget about the cookies.” The two of you sat together, sharing cookies and sipping hot cocoa from the thermos. Buddy stood proudly nearby, a testament to your combined (if slightly chaotic) efforts. Pulling off your gloves, cradling the thermos in your hands. The warmth seeped through your fingers as you took a sip, the rich, sweet cocoa melting the chill in your bones. Jayce opened the box of cookies, offering you one before taking one for himself.

"These are so good,” you said, savoring the buttery sweetness.

“Told you Mrs. Halloway knows her stuff,” Jayce replied, his grin boyish as he took a large bite. “Snowball fights and cookies. Best day off ever.”

You leaned back, watching Buddy stand proudly in the distance. “I think we outdid ourselves with that snowman,” you said.

Jayce glanced at it, a playful smile on his face. “He’s definitely got personality. Though next year, I’m thinking we add some light-up features. Maybe a mini hammer.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course you are. But fine, as long as I get to handle the design.”

“Deal,” he said, raising his cookie like a toast.

As the two of you sat there, sharing cookies and warm drinks, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the snow in shades of gold and pink. It was a rare, perfect moment of peace, one you knew you’d carry with you through the busier days ahead. And in the quiet of the winter evening, with Jayce’s laughter still echoing in your ears, you realized this was what you loved most about him: his ability to make even the simplest moments unforgettable.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Jayce pulled his scarf from the snowman and wrapped it around your shoulders instead.

“You’re going to freeze,” you protested, but he shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice gentle. “You’re the one who dragged me out here, so it’s only fair that I make sure you stay warm.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, leaning into his side as he slung an arm around you. “Same time next year?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

“Maybe, as long as you aren't late.” you agreed, smiling as you watched the last light of day fade behind the snow-covered trees.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights @writingwisterias

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thanksbutno98 · 6 months ago

Text

Change

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price struggles with missing his children growing up so fast.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, not edited.

——————

It was approaching noon on this picturesque spring day. The sun was out, not a cloud in sight, and the birds were chirping their usual tune. The light breeze rustled the leaves in the tree tops where Evelyn Price was stationed. She sat in her treehouse reading her latest book. She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail and wore blue jeans and her favorite bright pink t-shirt with a small rhinestone heart in the center.

The kitchen timer she had nicked from the stove lightly beeped. In a flash the young girl was turning off the timer, dog earing her page and tossing the book on the floor next to her. Crawling towards the only window in the sturdy wooden structure Evelyn snatched her father’s binoculars that she had also ‘borrowed’ for this specific occasion. Pressing the cool plastic to her face she began to survey her yard.

She could see you through the bay window cooking lunch with her little sister, Lily, on your hip. You looked to be dancing around and singing to whatever music you had popped on. Turning her attention to the drive Evelyn patiently waited.

“Daddy!” The sweetest voice echoed through the breezy afternoon air.

John took in the sight of his home, feeling an immense weight lift off of him to finally be back. He realized as he got to the top of his long driveway that the chicken coop in the far corner would need some repairs. What he hadn’t noticed was his little girl peering from the tree tops right above the coop in her treehouse with his binoculars, waiting to see his car pull up the drive. The sight of his old beat up truck had her sprinting out of the structure he built and down the ladder, jumping from much higher than you would have approved of.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Waving her arms in the air the little girl was doing everything she could to get her father’s attention.

The light wheeze of the truck door shutting was followed by bare feet thudding quickly against the grass. This spring afternoon turned brighter for Evelyn Price at the arrival of her father. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze lit up her tingling skin. Her little legs worked hard to get her from the farthest point of the backyard where the treehouse was to the driveway where her father stood.

John stood at the front of his truck with a beaming smile as he watched his seven year old sprint as fast as she could toward him. This was the best feeling for the military man. A warm welcome from his child who clearly missed him as much as he missed her. It was what made deployment worth it and I caused him to hug a little tighter and love a little harder. Somehow seeing her ponytail fly in the wind and those big blue eyes made his body stop aching and all the tension from deployment wash off as if he was doused with a bucket of ice water.

Dropping his duffle bag to the ground John was ready to squat down and pick his first little girl up, spin her around to hear her amazing laugh, and roughly kiss her cheek. Only, the little girl tripped a few yards away and fell face first into the grass with a smack. She fell so hard her feet and legs flung up behind her showing off how dirty her bare feet were.

“Oh shit.” John quickly dashed over to Evelyn who had her face smushed into the grass.

“OW!” Evelyn’s voice whined while she moved to get up, one hand rubbing her forehead.

Most children would cry or make a huge stink about taking a hard tumble; but not John’s kids. He taught them from a young age that no matter how hard you fall you dust yourself off and get back up. Before Evelyn knew it her body left the ground and she was picked up and jostled on to her father’s hip. The pain seemed to wash off her as their blue eyes met.

“You okay?” John asked, brushing his hand over her hair and inspecting her forehead which took the brunt of the blow. There was a tiny bit of panic hidden in his voice but ultimately culminated in a chuckle he tried to hold back.

Without answering Evelyn went from rubbing her reddened forehead to flinging her arms around John’s neck. She hugged him as tight as she could finding the comfort she had missed so much the past month in his arms.

Inhaling deeply John hugged his daughter tight and rubbed her back lovingly. He could feel how tense she was and after a moment she seemed to relax against his chest.

“I missed you.” John whispered into her ear. His left hand came up and played with her ponytail that was much shorter than he remembered.

“You get a hair cut?” John asked in which he could feel Evelyn nod in affirmation. She never liked having her hair short so it was strange seeing the normally mid back length ponytail come up to just the nape of her neck.

The cutest giggle left Evelyn as she pulled back and placed her small hands on John’s hairy cheeks. Pushing them together Evelyn squished John’s face and started to laugh loudly when he crossed his eyes to make a silly face at her.

“Missed you too, daddy.” Evelyn hugged John around the neck again. Attempting to put her down did not go well as she fussed dramatically. So, John carried her and his duffle bag into the house.

“Mummy’s cooking lunch.” Evelyn informed John as he walked through the back door.

She was right, and there you were, with one year old baby Lily on your hip. Lily was dressed in only a light orange short sleeve onesie with white foxes decorating it. You had your hair tied up, wearing athletic shorts and a new t-shirt John had never seen. It was fitted and had your favorite artist on the front which John could only glance at when you turned around. Music filled the house like it almost always did when you were cooking but John didn’t recognize the album. It was still your favorite artist, he could tell that much but they must have released new music you hadn’t shown him yet.

“Hi.” You sighed out at the sight of John. Having him back home was all you wanted and in an instant the weight of doing the parenting all alone was lifted.

Your face warmed and you felt your heart beat flutter at the sight of the man you loved so dearly. He was holding your daughter who was wrapped around him like a serpent with her head resting in the crook of his neck. John had his signature charming smile plastered across his rugged face as he dropped his faded green duffle back to the ground.

John looked tanner and his bucket hat more sun faded. The fitted green t-shirt he wore was tighter around his shoulders and biceps, showing off how Johns muscles were more toned than when he first left. The way his shirt tucked into his beige cargo pants made it seem like his waist was slimmer and you knew once you got him naked later tonight he would rival a Greek god. You saw it as one of the few perks of John being deployed, he would come back all muscular and then you would set to work to pack on a slight layer of fat from all your cooking. You loved seeing John go from ripped to having a bit of pudge around the edges because it meant he had been home for a while.

“Hello, darling. You look beautiful.” John breathed out the words and set Evelyn down who tried to protest.

Lily took a minute to realize who was here and once she saw her daddy was home she shrieked in joy then began to cry. Quickly John made his way over to you and kissed you swiftly before scooping Lily into his arms to help soothe her. It may have been a fleeting kiss but it was undeniable how sparks flew between you two.

“We’ll have a proper hello soon.” John promised you but you didn’t mind. Yes, you wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and stay there for hours. But, seeing him holding your little girls and already falling right back into being a father was making you fall in love all over again. You would get him all to yourself when the kids were asleep.

“Hello, there. You’ve filled out quite a bit.” John squished her chubby thigh and cooed at Lily who was crying pathetically into his chest. She rubbed her face back and forth leaving a trail of spit behind on a John’s once clean shirt. Your little girl was quite dramatic which was incredibly endearing until it wasn’t.

Rubbing her back John turned to you to say something snarky but he was stopped. Suddenly a burning, wet, pinch lit up his left pectoral muscle. It went from a pinch to stinging painfully. Pulling Lily away so she was at arms length, she had stopped crying but had a pout on her face and crocodile tears daring to spill from her sapphire eyes. John’s face was twisted in pain and shock as he glanced between the oval wet spot on his shirt from having just been bitten to his curly haired baby.

“You have teeth now!?” John spoke completely exasperated.

“Think that’s pay back for being gone so long.” You snickered.

Sitting Lily on the kitchen island John stuck his fingers into her mouth to inspect how many teeth she had gotten. Surprisingly she was docile while John took a look. There were three, two bottom, one canine, and it looked like her front tooth was just about to poke through.

“Wash your hands before you do that.” You scolded pulling John’s hand away by his wrist. The last thing you two needed was a sick baby.

“Since when does she have teeth?” John’s face looked so cute to you. He seemed floored that Lily had grown so much but you wondered what he was expecting.

“Right when you left. She got all three at the same time so you’re lucky you missed that. We had a very upset Lily who let us know how much her poor little teeth hurt.” Running your fingers through Lily’s mop of curls you admired how much she looked like John, down to the freckle on her nose.

John didn’t feel lucky. He wanted to be here for first teeth, he wanted to be home for first everything’s. It stung and the memory of missing Lily’s birth started to invade his mind. This was a guilt he was desperately trying to leave behind. You two had gone to couples therapy to work through it and in time you had forgiven John as much as you could; but it would always be a reminder of what could be missed in his absence.

“Yeah! Lily got a fever and mummy had to wake us up and take us all to hospital in the middle of the night.“ Evelyn said in a cheery tone as she hung off John’s waist.

“You had to get the kids up in the middle of the night?” Guilt immediately creeped up John’s throat at the thought of you having to handle all that on your own. If he were home you would have stayed back with the kids and he would have taken Lily to the hospital or vice versa.

“It was an adventure. Nothing to feel bad about.” Kissing John’s cheek he knew you well enough you were trying to make sure he didn’t feel bad. One of the notes you had taken from couples counseling was to not punish John by being snarky or passive aggressive; but to be kind so he could start forgiving himself.

“Doctor said it was teething so it was quick. We came home and all snuggled in bed.” The toss away comment didn’t do much to make John feel better.

“Did I miss anything else?” With Lily now on his hip and snuggling up to him, John wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. You could feel this hug was suppose to comfort you but you didn’t need comforting. That didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy being tucked into Johns side.

“Mummy dinged the car when we were getting sweets at the bakery.” Evelyn slyly added.

John gave you a raised eyebrow, choosing not to comment. You could have wrecked the car and he would give you a pass for how guilty he felt at the moment. You awkwardly laughed and avoided his gaze.

“Yeah you’ll have to fix that with a bit of paint.” Patting Johns shoulder you slipped from his hold and went back to finishing up lunch.

“Do you and your brother want to help me fix that?” The questions was met with a wide toothy grin and an enthusiastic nod of Evelyn’s head.

“Where’s J?” John asked, making his way to pop Lily in her high chair for lunch.

“He’s in the bath. Someone pushed him into the pond.” Giving Evelyn a sharp look she returned it with a very innocent looking one.

“I’m pretty sure he fell.” Sounding as sweet as she could John cast a look at his ponytailed girl and chuckled knowing she was absolutely fibbing.

“If I didn’t see you push him I might’ve believed you.” Not bothering to turn around you started to plate up the pasta with veggies and sauce that you made. You made sure to give John an extra large helping with extra Parmesan cheese.

“Dad!” Jj’s voice cut through the air.

The little boy was quick to bolt toward his father who was standing by Lily’s high chair. It took John a second to process seeing his boy standing so much taller and with a new hair cut. Flinging himself at John, Jj hugged him as tight as he could. John squatted down a second later to hug him back until he pulled away and ruffled his damp hair.

“Everyone get a haircut?” He asked before putting Jj into a head lock. The two wrestled around for a bit while you handed Evelyn her food and brought the other plates to the table.

“Knock it off you two, before you-“ Unable to get the full sentence out John bumped into you with Jj struggling with all his might to weasel out of the headlock. Lily’s plastic bowl smacked straight out of your hand and on to the floor with a thud; pasta and red sauce splattering everywhere. The two of them froze both locking eyes with your frustrated gaze then down at the mess all over the tiled floor.

“Make a mess.” You finished.

“Sorry.” John quickly blurted out, letting go of Jj.

“Sorry, mum.” Jj was quick to add.

You didn’t bother telling John to pick it up. The stern look you shot him had him heading for the cleaning supplies while you got Lily more food. Jj didn’t waist a second to go sit down and start eating, narrowly avoiding being the one you were cross with. Him and Evelyn both shared amused looks and started whispering how they missed seeing their dad get in trouble. Their giggles picked up in volume once John was on his hands and knees cleaning. Normally it would annoy John and he would tell them to knock it off but he hadn’t heard those giggles in far to long, and he was going to soak them up.

It was amazing to be home for this man who had just spent the past month under the beating sun, weighed down by tactical gear and life and death decisions. Surrounding himself with what he felt were the most important people helped his fried nerves and anxiety diminish. The feeling of your stealing his hat off his head, fingers scratching through his hair as you walked by made it all better.

John was content sitting down in his usual spot at the head of the kitchen table, with you to his right and Jj to his left. Lily was caddy cornered between you and John while Evelyn was sat to your right.

“Wow, she’s really downing that.” John watched in awe as his one year old scarfed down the food from the little bowl on her high chair trey. Lily’s face was covered in red sauce, some even getting into her curly auburn locks.

“She eats like crazy now. One day to the next went from having my appetite to yours.” Your comment had John pausing. Watching Lily shove food into her tiny mouth, looking to Evelyn’s short ponytail, and Jj’s cropped haircut left John with a twinge in his chest. Jj sat taller than John remembered and Evelyn was looking more and more like you. Lily even had teeth now.

It had only been a month that John was gone but it felt like so much had changed in that short amount of time. His children hadn’t stopped growing and it seemed life wouldn’t wait for him in his absence. The fact was, John was missing out on the little things you saw everyday. It was starting to brew a strange type of jealously he had never felt before towards his wife.

“You okay?” You asked.

John went from looking excited at being home to solemn. Moments ago he was loudly laughing and messing with Jj but now his lips were pressed in a firm line and there was a crease between his thick eyebrows. You watched carefully before checking in on him. Those blue eyes you loved so much were analyzing your children closely as if he were picking them each apart.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” With a charming smile John batted your comment away unconvincingly. He even held your hand and gave it a squeeze to appease you.

To anyone else they wouldn’t notice the turmoil in John’s eyes and deep voice; but you did. He was struggling with something he was unwilling to tell you in this moment. With time you hoped he would come talk to you about it. Which could take days most times, unless you dragged it out of him.

“After lunch I want you two to play outside. I have to get Lily down and don’t need you two waking her up.” Lunch was finishing up and your request was met with obnoxious groans from your two oldest.

“None of that.” John gently corrected, taking his last bite.

“Why don’t you two play outside for a bit and I’ll handle Lily.” John glanced at his baby who went from devouring her food to now having her face pressed against the high chair trey and lightly snoring as she slept. She was adorable with food decorating her face and clothes and John knew she’d lose it once anyone made a move to clean her up.

“That way your mum can have a well deserved lay down. Then we can go out to the shop-“ John placed his hand by his mouth as if you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said next, then whispered “and get her a present.” This seemed to brighten your children’s mood.

You lightly chuckled to yourself pretending to not hear. Whatever present John and the kids came home with would hardly compare to the nap you were about to take. It had been too long since you had the kids taken off your hands and it reminded you why having John home was so amazing.

“Dishes in the sink, then run along.” John ordered with a smile splitting across his face.

Evelyn and Jj listened dutifully and made their way outside. John’s eyes caught sight of red sneakers slipping on to his son’s feet, his blue ones no where to be seen. Once Evelyn had her yellow sneakers on she tapped her toes against the ground to make sure they were on correctly. It was a little idiosyncrasy she did without notice. It helped John feel somewhat better in this moment that not everything was changing in his absence.

“New sneakers?” John asked you and nodded to Jj who was now running out in the yard with Evelyn behind him. He grabbed your empty plate and his own then loaded up the dishwasher.

“He outgrew the old ones.” You said as you fiddled with your phone, looking through some emails that had come through. There was a long pause before John spoke again.

“They’re growing like weeds.” It sounded like an off handed comment which was usually John’s tell. He never wanted to let on what he was upset about so it usually slipped out like this. It was his way of trying to convince himself it was ‘no big deal.’

“Not that much.” You cocked your head to the side as you watched John. The comment had you wondering if that might be what was bothering him.

John was expertly cleaning Lily up without waking her. His gaze was focused and hands steady. It looked as if he were diffusing a bomb and it honestly felt that way. Neither of you wanted a screaming Lily; out of all of your children she was the biggest handful at this age. If John could get her cleaned up and down for her nap smoothly you’d be extremely thankful. You already felt relieved to not be doing this on your own.

The two of you slowly stripped her out of her food stained clothes and brought her upstairs. It was a team effort to get her diaper changed and new clothes on while she slept soundly. By the time you tiptoed out of her room you and John released the breath you were holding.

“Good work, Captain.” You sighed out feeling relieved everything went so smoothly.

John had his eyes set on you and how exhausted you seemed to be. Maybe this month was harder on you than you let on. But it’s not like he had taken the time to ask or check in on you since he walked through the door. You two were swept up in being parents and he missed you, his wife, lover, best friend.

Taking you into his strong arms John didn’t say a word; he didn’t need to. You could feel in the way he held you close and nuzzled his bearded face against the side of your face that he needed you. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek you held him with just as much love and tenderness. Time seemed to slip by and soon enough you two had stood there for much longer than intended in each others arms.

“I missed you.” John’s words rumbled softly from his chest. Oh, how you missed his thick accent and gravely voice. It sent a shiver up your spine that ignited into fire works when his thick beard tickled your skin as he kissed you slowly.

“Can’t describe how much I missed you too.” You were getting choked up finally having what you had been craving for the past month. You weren’t one to cry before starting a family but now it seemed tears came easier.

“I’m sorry if things were tough without me.” John held you close as you both spoke in hushed voices outside Lily’s bedroom.

“It’s always tough without you.” You admitted.

“Will a lay down and a surprise from me and the kids help?” The smile was evident in John’s voice because he knew it would.

Looking up into his beautiful blue eyes you nodded slowly with a content smile on your face. The love radiating off of him made everything feel okay. That life would go back to normal and you would have his support again with more than just the kids. You’d have your best friend to chat with endlessly and goof around with. The partner who’d play the bad guy to the kids so it wasn’t always you, and your lover to hold you close through the night.

“C’mon, I’ll rub your back the kids can wait for a bit.” Nudging his head down the hall you giggled with excitement.

“Think we have time for a quickie?” You asked giving John a cheeky wink. His eyebrows shot up and he was eagerly shaking his head. That was not what he was expecting but he’d be mad to turn you down when he wanted you the second he caught sight of you.

“C’mon, no time to waist.” With a swift pat to your bottom you both scurried down the hall to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

——————

Tapping his foot impatiently John stood in blue jeans, a light grey champion crewneck, and all white trainers. He ditched the hat since you had babbled about how you missed tugging on his hair; which you had done quite a bit before he left to go shopping. His hands were shoved in his pockets as the shopping was coming to an end but his daughter decided she needed to take her sweet time.

“Why are you learning every bone in the body?” John was staring down at Evelyn who had just rattled off an obscene amount of bones in the human body, starting from her toes and getting to her elbows.

“I’m gonna be a doctor one day. So I might as well learn them now. At least that’s what mum said, she’s been teaching me.” Evelyn spoke matter of factly as if John should know this. She was squatted down in front of one of the shelves filled with Lego products in the toy section.

“Of course your mum is. Since when do you want to be a doctor? Thought you wanted to be an astronaut.” Scratching the back of his head John could picture you and Evelyn sitting at the kitchen table studying together. You had probably made it into a game at this point and were having a grand time teaching Evelyn something you knew so well.

“Yeah but there’s no people to help in space. I wanna help people like you do but have a fancy diploma like mummy.” Evelyn was only confusing John further. It was flattering to hear she wanted to be like him in some aspects.

“You don’t need a fancy diploma like a PhD, Evie. You can help people without one.” John felt like he was talking to an adult at this point and giving career advice.

“Your Auntie Sarah helps people as a nurse and she doesn’t need one to do that.” John added.

The pressure of pursing a PhD was something he feared for his children. Having heard your experience John worried about any of his children putting that kind of pressure on themselves. It had fueled your need to be an over achiever to a point John found unhealthy at times. He also knew how tough the medical field was from his sister so he couldn’t help but worry.

“Yeah but no one says how smart you are. They talk about how mummy’s a ‘genius’ or a ‘really clever lady.’” Evelyn used air quotes as she continued to search the racks for a Lego set in the price range John agreed to. John’s face fell at her comment. No one could break a man’s confidence like his own children.

“I’m just as smart as your mum.” John countered sounding as offended as he felt.

“Sure you are.” The sarcasm was evident and John had half a mind to tell Evelyn she couldn’t get a Lego set for that one.

“Mums scary smart, dad. I swear she’s a witch with how she can read our minds. You know, we were sneaking ice cream yesterday and she told us to put it back all the way from upstairs! No clue how she knew. And you’re scary in a totally different way.” Jj joined the conversation having been helping search for a Lego set for Evelyn. He was holding a video game for his switch which John agreed to buy.

“I’m scary?” John sounded exasperated but then he thought about his question for a moment. He was large, intimidating and military; who could lose his temper, of course he was scary to kids. He just hoped he didn’t scare them too much. Jj and Evelyn glanced at each other then went back to searching the shelves.

“No.” They spoke in unison clearly smart enough to not answer John’s question honestly. John swore the kids had never been more like you than this moment.

“You two clearly take after your mother.” John sighed defeatedly, taping the bouquet of roses he held against his thigh.

“Means we’re clever too!” Evelyn cheered picking out a Lego set and showing it to her father for approval. It was a little bit more expensive but John shook his head and then waved for his kids to follow him to check out.

John stayed eerily silent as his two oldest teased each other until they were bickering. There were a few attempts from him telling them to knock it off but they only continued to argue. John sat in silence on the car ride home as the spat the two Price children had fallen into only intensified. This taste of normalcy was helping keep him calm, although it was annoying.

Hearing Evelyn say she now wanted to be a doctor seemed to be the final change that crushed John. Home and family felt off now, like he was here but in a slightly different version of reality. In such a short period the little things he usually adored about life had changed drastically. It felt like he didn’t know his children as well and then the dread of not knowing you like the back of his hand began to set in.

What if the gift he picked up for you was no longer something you would like? That this month apart had changed your taste and John wasn’t there to pick up on the subtle difference like he normally would. Would you resent him? Would it drudge up past feelings of abandonment that you two worked on in therapy?

“You okay dad?” Jj’s voice interrupted John’s train of thought.

“What?” John asked, seemingly out of it.

“Are you mad at us?” Evelyn followed up sounding hesitant which was unlike her.

The two had noticed they hadn’t gotten scolded to the degree they normally would for being mean to one another. Their father had been silent, hadn’t even turned on the radio like he usually did. Or got on their cases to get along or those toys he just bought would be taken before they were able to enjoy them.

“No, just stop with the bickering.” With a sigh John went back to quietly driving them all home.

“Okay.” Jj sounded apprehensive. John glanced at the rear view to see the two Price children whispering to each other in the back seat.

“Dad?” Jj asked after a few minutes of silence in the car.

“Yeah?”

“We think you should stop at the shop. So we can grab one more thing for mum” Jj said with a straight face. He sounded adamant as if John didn’t have a choice.

“Why, we already got her present?” Confused John glanced in the rear view again to see both his children with straight faces. Jj nudged Evelyn and she quickly added on.

“Please daddy.” Evelyn asked sweetly. She was using her cuteness to her advantage to persuade John. It almost always worked.

“Fine.” John sighed not having much fight in him to deny his children, especially when Evelyn asked so sweetly and called him ‘daddy’; which was becoming less common. The only reason he splurged and bought that Lego set and video game was because he felt guilty for being gone for so long.

Once at the local shop John unbuckled ready to head in and see what his children were going to insist on buying; he’d say yes regardless. After all it was for you and John would spend every penny he had if it meant putting a smile on your face.

“No! You wait. Jj and I want it to be a surprise.” Evelyn leaned into the front seat and stuck out her hand expecting money.

“What are you two up to?” Turning to look at his children John watched as Jj hoped out of the truck ready to head in without John. This wasn’t unusual. Sometimes laziness won out for John and he’d send one of his kids in to grab whatever they were stopping for.

“Nothing, just want it to be a surprise.” The logic seemed sound to John so he pulled out his wallet and handed over more money than necessary.

“What is it?” John asked but not sure why because he knew the question would be dodged.

“You’ll see.” Evelyn sang, kissed John’s cheek, then jumped out of the truck and her and her brother dashed into the shop. John saw them wave hello to Mrs. Finch who had come to know your family well with your frequent stops here.

Pulling out his phone John checked to see if you had texted or called which you hadn’t. With a large sigh John’s mind wandered to what his kids could possibly be buying for you. Maybe some snacks but it couldn’t be anything crazy. After a few minutes the two emerged with two plastic bags stuffed full. Jj took Evelyn’s bag so she could get in and then handed them to her and ran around to his side.

“Change please.” Sticking his hand over his shoulder and into the back there was a lapse of silence. Turning John looked at his children who were staring at him as if they were about to get in trouble.

“We spent it all.” Jj whispered.

“Don’t know what I was expecting.” John grumbled to himself before heading home.

——————

“Why are you here?” You asked John as you sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch. His large hand was mindlessly massaging your thigh.

“No clue.” He was looking past you down the hall to where your children were setting something up to bring you.

After coming home Jj and Evelyn ushered you both out of the kitchen and became shrill at your questions. You didn’t mind since you had just made Lily her bottle and planned on letting her feed herself while you scrolled on your phone. They instructed you to sit on the couch where Evelyn ran out and brought you both juice boxes. They took the present John got for you and told him they would bring it out but he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t be involved in setting up this surprise for you. He also didn’t feel like fighting them on this. John had been catering to every whim they had and wasn’t sure when he would finally put his foot down.

“How are you feeling?” You asked taking John’s hand in yours.

“Happy to be home.” John continued to look down the hall not wanting to make eye contact because it would give him away. Slowly you leaned into his line of sight with a big smile until he was forced to look at you.

“Please tell me.” It was suppose to be a question but it came out a little too demanding.

With a heavy sigh John knew he didn’t have it in him to argue with anyone in the house, let alone you. He was too tired after deployment and everything else today threw at him.

“They’ve grown so much since I left. Lily has teeth, Jj’s got new trainers, and Evie wants to be a bloody doctor now.” Staring at Lily John watched as she happily laid back in her rocker using one hand to hold her bottle while the other played with the toys dangling over her.

“Yeah, they’re kids they change a lot.” You spoke sympathetically hoping John wouldn’t get to wound up.

“Yeah and I’ve missed a lot.” There it was. The confession you needed to finally be able to aid your husband in his turmoil.

“But you also haven’t. You made it to the daddy daughter dance, Lily’s first birthday, you even coached Jj’s soccer team. When have you ever had time for that before?” Taking your hand you played with the short hair at the nape of John’s neck. Giving it a playful tug you hoped to maybe spark the memories from earlier when he had you wrapped in his arms and bare chest pressed to yours. John had stepped up so much and had been making so much work with his busy schedule. You had been immesnsley proud of him for not having his job come first at all times.

“Football, darling.” With a small smirk John glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your words helped his ego if only slightly.

“Whatever, you know what I mean. You’re here for the moments that matter to them and that’s what means the world to me and to them.” You leaned forward trying to get John’s eyes on you so he could see how serious you were.

“I’m happy for that. Truly I am.” John took a long pause before he spoke again.

“But, it’s not enough for me. I want to be here and see the little things. Take Jj to get new shoes, convince Evie she doesn’t need to learn every bone in the body. . . Be here to take Lily to the doctors when she’s ill. I want to be here and I’m not.” It was like word vomit. Once John started it seemed like he couldn’t stop. It hurt yet felt relieving to get this off his chest, because he was telling you and somehow you always knew what to say.

“I’m sorry, John.” Instead of trying to convince John to feel differently you let him sit in this. You rubbed his back and rested your forehead against his neck.

“I want to be here with you too so you don’t end up resenting me. I can only imagine how you’ve changed in the little ways.” John was staring down at his hand holding yours, playing with your wedding ring.

“I don’t resent you.” With a dramatic sigh you continued.

“Well, I still suck at rough housing with the kids compared to you. I sometimes forget to eat and skip a meal without you here to remind me. I still sing in the shower. My favorite color hasn’t changed, neither have my favorite sweets or snacks. I sleep on the right side of the bed and fall asleep with the tv on too loud. The kids still drive me crazy on Sunday mornings when I just want to sleep in. And you’re the love of my life and will always be.” You spoke with a giddiness in your voice. It was endearing to you that John was worried you had changed in the time he had been away. It made you smitten that he cared so deeply about each one of his family on an individual level not just as a whole.

“So you haven’t changed?” John chuckled. Your response was so sweet to him it had him feeling lighter, like things didn’t need to be so heavy. You were more intoxicating than a stiff drink and knocked him on his ass stronger than a shot of whiskey. There was something about how effortlessly you could talk him off a ledge and ground him when his anxieties became overwhelming.

“Nope, still 100% me. So sorry, but you’re stuck with it.” With a swift kiss to his scruffy cheek you watched as John’s mood began to turn around. He just needed a final push.

“No one I’d rather be stuck to.” John kissed you hard and you melted into him.

“You’ll be stuck to me all night if I have anything to do with it.” You flirted getting a warm chuckle from John and a searing hot kiss.

“Ew! Stop it!” Jj shrieked from behind you two.

“Gross.” Evelyn mumbled.

Pulling away you saw both your children standing in the doorway of the living room. They were holding either side of the wooden trey you used to bring out snacks and drinks on movie nights. You couldn’t quite tell what was on it as it had a kitchen towel over it. They moved around the couch and then struggled to place it on the coffee table. John ended up standing and helping them place it in front of you both.

“Surprise!” They both cheered, pulling the towel off.

The biggest grin spread across your face as you took in the sight before you. This was no surprise for you.

It was for John.

His favorite crisps were overflowing from the large blue popcorn bowl, the candies he loved laid out, there was every type of biscuit John normally reached for, a pint of strawberry ice cream, a cup of tea with cream and sugar laid out, a blueberry pastry, a single cigar stolen from his truck, and a piece of green construction paper torn in half that read ‘Welcome Home!’ in blue marker.

“Welcome home.” You whispered to your very stunned husband.

Looking to him you thought he was getting misty eyed with the way his bottom lip wobbled slightly. Yes, your children were doing something sweet for their dad but you knew they had no clue just how much this meant to him. That the little things may have changed slightly for them but they hadn’t for John. They knew him well and that wouldn’t have been possible without the countless hours he’d spent with them and all the outings he took them on even when they didn’t want to go. That the love he had for them, they had for him. You and John knew they did this completely on their own which meant so much more.

“Come here you two.” John outstretched his arms signaling he wanted to hug them and the two practically threw themselves at him.

“I’m the luckiest dad in the world.” These words were spoken with the utmost sincerity. You watched as the most genuine smile took over John’s features having his children in his arms. Giggles erupted from Evelyn and Jj as John picked them both up so their feet left the ground and squeezed them tight before placing them back down.

“Now it’s time for your mums surprise.” Nodding his head towards the kitchen Jj ran out of the room and came back with a white envelope and bouquet of roses.

“Flowers are from me and Evie. Dad got you this.” With a cheery smile Jj handed over your gifts. He then busied himself by eating some of the crisps from the bowl along with John and Evelyn.

“Thank you.” You kissed your son on the cheek which he then pretend gagged and Evelyn happily came over for her smooch and hug.

“What ever could it be?” You joked to John thinking he had written you a heart felt card.

Opening up the envelop your face split into a huge smile and excitement shot through your veins. It was a gift card to your favorite spa and massage parlor. It was for a 90 minute massage, facial treatment, hair treatment, and mani pedi.

“Ugh, you have no idea how much I need this.” Throwing your head back you sighed.

Getting pampered sounded like absolute paradise right now. You were ready to jump for joy and pop champagne. After a month of doing it all on your own you desperately needed to get all those tight muscles worked out and focus on yourself.

“Thought you could use a day for some self care.” Taking his hand John rubbed your back. He chuckled when you kissed his cheek and then leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I’ll take very good care of you after this.” You purred and squeezed John’s bicep to emphasize your point. With a charming smirk he gave you a cheeky wink.

“I’m gonna call now to schedule this for tomorrow.” Pulling out your phone you stood and brought up the contact information for the spa.

“Tomorrow?” John sat up straight. He didn’t realize you would use it so quickly but that you two would chat about when was a good time for you to have a day to yourself.

“Yes, you four can figure something out for the day. Lily’s in charge.” You motioned to your children and Lily who was just finishing up her bottle.

“Darling, shouldn’t we do something together? As a family?” John was not ready to have all the responsibility thrown on him so fast. It was hectic enough to take the kids out shopping for an hour.

“We have all the time in the world to do something as a family. I only get so many days to myself and tomorrow is one of them.” You spoke assertively as you walked out of the room, phone pressed to your ear. John could tell there was no changing your mind and he would have to come up with something to entertain the kids. He would also be left to his own devices with a teething Lily which would be brutal.

“Will you share your candy?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes, go put this in the freezer before it melts.” Handing her the pint of ice cream John shoved a few crisps in his mouth before pulling out his phone to see what was open tomorrow to take the kids to. Having you occupied for the day wouldn’t be the worst. You coming home as relaxed as possible would honestly work in John’s favor in the long run.

“We could go to the trampoline park.” Jj was kneeling on the couch next to John and peering over his shoulder while munching on crisps.

“Sounds like a plan!”

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 1 year ago

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~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll.

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again.

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes.

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force.

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping.

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins.

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights.

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously.

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest.

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands.

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk.

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look.

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly.

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly.

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.”

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway.

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look.

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly.

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip.

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said.

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches.

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips.

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small.

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed.

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered.

#ficlet #mace windu #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #no order 66 #jedi order #jedi temple #my writing #yoda #caleb dume #katooni #loose sequel to my fic “villains and knaves”#Hondo stole the pufferpigs to sell them obi-wan confiscated them and now he’s not giving them back to the mining guild meanies

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maraudersilver · 3 months ago

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despise you (Sirius Black x Potter!Reader)

Sirius Black x Fem!Potter!Reader - Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

wc: + 3,5K

cw: angst, broken moral compass. I'm really sorry.

It started slow. Disappearance of quills, shredded clothes, shut curtains that hid the first rays of sun during the week… Nothing too obnoxious, yet stressing enough to have the four Marauders trundling around the castle in less than a week. Oh, how delightful it was when you heard from Dorcas that the four of them had been assigned detention after two undelivered essays to McGonagall.

You had seen Remus roaming the library more often than not, his hair matching James’ disheveled level of messy. In other circumstances, you could have sympathized with him, being the only tolerable one of the toll. However, if one knew, the others too, so in your page Remus Lupin was as guilty as the other three twats.

Nothing would have made you happier than priding yourself in their misery produced by you and you alone, though Barty had been a participant in a handful of the pranks; the stink-bombs in the Gryffindor common room had been his own piece of art.

Pandora had pointed out a few times the glares you were receiving from the core of the Gryffindor table in every meal, and had been concerned when you laughed maniacally. Of course they suspected you, they thought you did it, but they just couldn’t prove it.

“Still tormenting them?” Regulus asked about a week after your revenge started, both of you perched on the branches of a billowing chestnut tree near the Black Lake.

“Until I have what I want? Yes.” You shrugged your shoulders absentmindedly, and your friend just snorted.

It was chilly, the wind nippy against your covered skin. If the obscure clouds surveying the castle were any indication, snow would be blanketing the lands soon. You shuddered when the breeze mixed with that of the lake caressed your face in a sharpened tune.

“Have you considered that —and I can’t believe I’m defending my tosser of a brother— they have nothing to give you because they haven’t poisoned you?” Regulus tackled, as if he had been meaning to say it for long, and a peeved sneer made its way to his mouth, nose scrunched up, at the mention of Sirius.

You pinched your brows, narrowing your eyes towards Regulus, who had kept his eyes fixed on his book. “You think I’m making shit up?”

The boy sighed tiredly, putting the book down in his lap. “No,” he drawled. “But I do think you might be confusing those… symptoms.”

Bemused, you tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Look—” Regulus started before voices raucously cut through the wind beside you. Looking down, you saw the four Marauders paddling to the shore, clothes disheveled and ties forgotten who-knows-where.

And there he was. Sirius was strutting down the path as if he owned the place, confident steps paving the wave of his dark hair, which was dancing to the beat of the breeze beautifully. Your heart fluttered against your chest, belly churning with a feeling you couldn’t quite place. The air around you turned warm, caressing your skin ablaze. It had to be poison. Regulus, who you had forgotten for a moment was on the same bough as you, gave you a pointed look.

Disregarding him, you took out your wand, fiddling it between your fingers. You considered hexing them. They were near the sloshing water, which rippled due to the awful weather. It would be easy to stagger them to the awaiting mouth of the Giant Squid, yet the looming threat of being expelled thwarted your efforts. And in death they would never be able to provide you the awaiting antidote.

“Merlin’s saggy balls,” cursed Regulus, craning his head toward the trunk of the tree in vexation, voice sharp and tight.

You threw him a knitted glare, afraid the four Gryffindor boys had heard his not-as-quiet-as-required tone. For your relief, they were too engrossed in whatever terrorist mission they were planning by then.

Suddenly, more footsteps crunched the remaining leaves scattered on the floor. By the sound of it, just one person was approaching your hidden fort. It didn’t take long for a Ravenclaw girl to jag down the path towards the Marauders, who, for the most part, looked as annoyed as ever at her presence.

And then, the girl -who you had recognised as a fifth year- made her way towards Sirius. From where you stood, you could see his characteristic charming smirk that he used whenever he had a new conquest, the one that until very recently made your skin crawl. He leisurely placed one arm around her shoulder, perching her against his chest. She giggled, strutting along with him towards the water. Her screeching voice ringed across the forest, birds flying away at the sound.

Something in you shifted at the sight, your stomach dropping into a void you had never been aware of in your own body. It was morose, the way claws were scratching the inside of your chest as if your heart needed medical attention, bleeding out at the very branch you had plopped yourself on with Regulus an hour before.

When Sirius pressed a quick peck on the girl’s lips, your mind snapped. A daunting fear settled on the pit of your stomach, and the blood rushed into your ears. You could hear your heart’s frantic pulsing. With sweaty hands, you grabbed your wand tightly and pointed it towards the target, all previous wishful thinking retired to the back of your frenzied mind.

“Y/N?” Regulus' voice came in as if he was underwater, muddled by the white noise fuzzing your eardrums.

With a flicker of your wand, you murmured, “Sacrificiaque pellis”. Your voice was laced with seeth, and a blue light left your wand and hit the focus of your wrath.

Regulus’ lips pressed into a line as he saw the Ravenclaw’s skin covered in a disgusting, cornflake texture. When Sirius noticed, he grimaced and pulled himself away from her, a chagrin countenance stretching on his lips.

It didn’t take much time for the girl to see her measly state, gasping in horror at the sight of her own hands. Antsy and with tearful eyes, she scampered up the path from where she came from, the snickering from the other three Marauders following her up until she disappeared. You still saw red, but the pride looming on your chest was greater than the fury that had taken over you.

“The hell was that!?” Sirius gagged, and James howled in laughter.

“I promise it wasn’t our doing,” Peter added, still chuckling and face pink from the effort of restraining himself. “Although it would have been hilarious.”

Sirius groaned in annoyance. “There goes my date.”

James patted his shoulder sympathetically, Remus smirking widely next to him. “There are more mermaids in the lake, dude.”

The three of them laughed again at Sirius’ wry face, sulking on the shore while the others went back to their previous task, not at all worried about the jinxing of the girl. A very tiny part of you wondered what kind of person could be so indifferent to the attack of someone nearby, yet it flitted away from your mind as soon as the thought had appeared.

Regulus shook his head with a lazy smirk. “Jinxing muggle-borns now? Didn’t know you had it in you, Potter.”

Those words pulled you out of your tantrum vendetta. Your stomach was still churning. However, the void had disappeared and your heart just fluttered as it usually did whenever Sirius was nearby. You didn’t know what had come over you, why you had that impending need to hurt a stranger girl. And the most sickening part of it all, was that you didn’t regret it.

It wasn’t because she was a muggle-born, though you didn’t feel like bringing it up to Regulus. After years of being friends, you had come to the conclusion that to maintain said friendship it was best to leave the purity of blood out of any conversation. The same happened with half of your group of friends. So you just nodded, tackling your wand back in its place before anyone saw you.

A few minutes later, when the Marauders were too distracted to notice any of you, both Regulus and you bounded down the tree and silently hiked towards the castle. And there, loitering in the roots of the chesnut, was a white cat, blue eyes surveying you with uncanny curiosity.

Back at the Common Room, you fell into easy conversation with Pandora and Dorcas, your mind dribbling back to that afternoon, to the impending doom of seeing Sirius with another girl. Maybe what Evan had suggested a week prior was the right thing to do: brewing your own antidote would be the only way to escape the torment.

From the entrance of the Common Room, a jaunty roar called your name. “You really did it!” Barty sauntered towards you with open arms, a grin as wide as the entrance of the school. “I’m so proud of you, Potter.” He launched to your lap, and you squealed in annoyance.

“What are you talking about?” you snarled, both girls now looking at you two in bemusement.

“You jinxed a muggle-born! Regulus recounted everything, I wish I had been there to see it.” He sighed in delight, while you bent down, asking for the couch to swallow you. More eyes than you had expected had fallen over you. “At last you turn to the good side, Potter. Oh, we should definitely celebrate! Meadowes, do we have any booze left?”

Dorcas, who had remained quiet for the whole interaction, just swindled her eyes from you to Barty once and time again, scrutinizing you. You flinched at her hard stare, and she opened her mouth to reply sharply, “No.”

“Fuck,” Barty cursed, standing up rapidly from your lap and running towards Evan, who had been quietly reading in the loveseat by the fire.

You could feel the girls’ eyes burning on you, as if trying to pierce your skin with their stare. You turned around slowly, almost unnerved.

“Care to explain?” Dorcas asked, her voice laced with judgement.

You knew you were on a winding path and had to be careful with your words. However, at that time, it was risky enough to speak about purity matters, especially in a Common Room where you knew of the existence of You-Know-Who supporters. Pressing your lips tight, you sighed through your nose, swamped by the possibility of a scuffle coming from both sides of your group of friends.

“I’ll tell you in our dorm,” was all you said, fiddling with the loose threats of your sweater. At least most people had turned back to their own affairs. However, the silent prejudice of your friends was enough to make the hairs of your nape stand.

Out of the corner of your eye, a brown cat was stretching lazily on the carpet underneath you.

“So you didn’t do it out of hatred to muggle-borns,” Dorcas stated with narrowed eyes, glaring at you with an unnerving incredulity.

After an hour or so of loitering in the Common Room, you had deemed it appropriate to leave to your dorm without raising any suspicion on the others. You had tried to narrate the blip with as much clarity about your reasons as you could, leaving out the crestfallen ache that had wrapped around your heart at the sight of Sirius with another girl.

“The doubt offends me,” you scoffed, keeling down on your bed with an arm draped over your eyes. “Of course not!”

Pandora hummed, and even if you couldn’t see her, you knew she was tilting her head the way she always did whenever confusion settled on her mind. “Then why?”

You shrugged your shoulders uncomfortably. “Why not?”

“But did she do something to you or what?”

“More or less.” Dorcas huffed at your answer, and you pulled your arm away from your eyes in time to see her shake her head. “What?”

“I think you’re spending too much time with Junior, that’s all,” Dorcas said with worry laced in her voice.

“I don’t enjoy torturing muggle-borns,” you drawled your words tiredly.

“Just- be careful, okay? Some people here can be… influential.”

You knew it very well, one of them being your best friend. You never enjoyed their hatred towards muggle-borns, but you had yet to see them torturing one. There were rumours around the castle, about your friends and some older students' love for dark arts and their effect on those they considered impure. However, it was all speculation, you had never witnessed any attack from them. So, if you didn’t see it, certainly it didn’t happen, right?

“Everything’s under control.” Your tone didn’t leave space for any counterargument, deeming the conversation finished. Why you had hidden the effects of the poison from your friends, you didn’t know.

For some reason, now it was Umbridge who looked in your direction rather than the other way around. You hadn’t asked again about the army of cats Regulus was so sure about, but the wind-up gleam on Miss Pinky Winky’s eyes whenever she laid her eyes on you was starting to get on your nerves. During classes that day, you had caught her staring at you with a haughty look more often than not.

“The hell is wrong with Strawberry Cupcake?” you grumbled while walking down the corridor towards DADA with Regulus.

He just shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Only Merlin knows what crosses her mind.”

“Strawberry syrup. I thought we had agreed on that.”

Regulus just chuckled silently, his shoulders shagging with restraint.

There weren’t many students in the hallways, most of them making the most of the very few rays of sun that pierced through the clouds that seemed to never leave.

One moment, you were laughing with Regulus, and on the other, you were grabbed by someone by the wrist and pulled into the closest broom closet. You were about to scream, but a hand placed itself on your mouth, thwarting your efforts.

“I’m going to drop my hand. If you scream, I’ll jinx you like you did with Pen.” Sirius' voice was warning, almost leaning on a threat.

You didn’t nod your head nor did you make a sound. He may think he knew things, yet as a Slytherin, you knew exactly how to proceed to blackmail. Especially because blackmailing was your thing. You also hoped the erratic drumming of your heart ceased and that he couldn’t feel the warmth of your cheeks underneath his palm. Thankfully, it was so dark inside you could barely make out the shape of his body, so hopefully it would be the same with you.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Sirius dropped his hand and waited for you to make any frenzied movement. Amateur. When he was sure you would stay quiet, he proceeded to yell-whisper.

“Why on Godric’s saggy balls did you jinx my date!?” he snarled, grey eyes lost to the darkness glaring at you frantically.

You kept yourself steady, face neutral and breathing as calm as Sirius’ presence would let you, not wanting to give any clues. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t play coy, Potter,” he hissed, and by the shuffling of clothing, you could only assume he had crossed his arms over his chest.

“I really have no idea what you’re on about. So, if you excuse me, I have classes to attend.” You were about to grab the handle, but Sirius gripped your wrist with more force than before. “Hey!” You tried to pull away from his hold to no avail. “I know you don’t give a fuck about your grades, but I do. So drop my hand or I-”

“You what? You’ll hex me?” he mockingly cooed. “Poor Pen is still at the Infirmary, you know? Poppy’s having a stroke trying to heal her.”

You wanted to laugh at his hypocrisy. Acting all worried when he had sulked by the shore at the potential loss of a snog. “Who’s Pen?”

“My date.”

“What date?” You knew you were getting under his skin, but with Sirius the best way to proceed was setting him ablaze until he lost control of his own body. Then, you would escape.

“The girl you jinxed at the Black Lake yesterday afternoon. Recalling now?” he spat with obviousness lacing his voice.

You rolled your eyes, still trying to pull your wrist away from his scorching touch. “You should quit drugs, Black. You’re starting to trip.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” he snarled again, although it sounded more like a purr of a cat. “You’re not as good of a liar as you think,” he whispered against your ear, goosebumps arising in your skin.

You stepped back as much as you could on that tiny space, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. You hated what their prank was doing to your body whenever Sirius was present. “I’m not lying, you’re just nuts.” Sirius breathed in, as if preparing to argue his defence, yet you beat him. “And sincerely, since when do you care about the girls you date? Acting as if you were ‘boyfriend of the year’ when you’re actually a manwhore.”

Your breath was taken away from your lungs brutally when Sirius shoved you against the wall. You could feel his breath fanning over your face, and in such a short distance you distinguished his snarling fangs and infuriated grey eyes, darkened by his own wrath and the lack of light of the closet. Your heat betrayed you when it pulsed in pleasure.

“That you don’t get any bitches doesn’t mean the rest of us have to live as hermits.” A black curl teased your cheek, gentle in contrast to the man before you. “Blood purist and fucking muggle nun behavior. You’re disgusting.” Your stomach dropped against your will, a pang punching your chest. “You really have nothing to do with the Potters. It wouldn’t surprise me if they disowned you once I tell them how you love torturing muggle-borns.”

His words were as sharp as a knife, and you tried to keep your tears at bay for the sake of the little dignity you had left. Sirius had never been on your good side. However, cruelty wasn’t something he tended to lay on you. Your hands were shaking, even the one still clasped with his, and your mind was starting to get foggy. “You have no proof,” was all you could whisper, voice clipped and heart bleeding by his hands.

“I don’t need any. Since the moment you were placed in Slytherin, your brother already knew what you would become.”

It hurt. And it hurt more that they didn’t know you enough to have their brain ingrained with the knowledge of your stand on the oncoming war. How could a house determine your whole moral compass? It was just a schoolhouse.

“Always hanging around blood purists that take pleasure in torturing others. Pen has only been the first one, hasn't she?” Sirius continued, unaware -or uncaring- of the trembling of your body in distress. “Don’t get near me. Stay away from your brother. And if you ever harm anyone close to me again, I’ll make sure your body’s never found. Surely your parents will be glad the disappointment of the family disappears for good.”

You didn’t have time to assimilate his words before he stormed off the closet, leaving you alone with an aching heart. Dropping to the floor, you sobbed. You had never felt any rejection on your parents side. Yes, having been placed on Slytherin hadn’t been the jauntiest surprise, but you had yet to hear a degrading comment towards you.

How could a person who had been abandoned and tortured by his own family had such cruel words for someone in his same situation? His house of Hogwarts had been his downfall on the Black household. So, why did he take it all on you? Was that Ravenclaw girl so important to him that he felt the need to threaten you so wickedly? Especially because you had been positive no one had seen you. His opinion on you had to be worse than you thought for him to reach the conclusion that it was you who performed the jinx.

You could just cry ghastly on the floor of a broom closet, more than probably late for DADA and with trouble to get an ooze of oxygen in your lungs. They had poisoned you, and now Sirius had stabbed you straight to your heart with sharpened words. The theory of the slow murder was making more and more sense in your hazy, upset mind.

The irony of your situation almost made you laugh mirthlessly. They could prank half the school and expect no consequences, yet the moment you took vengeance you were deemed a Death Eater in process. Maybe Snape was right, and the Marauders were the worst people to meander the school, even worse than those who had already taken the mark. At least, the latters were open on their position.

Drunk in your misery, you almost didn’t notice the black cat strutting out of the broom closet.

Tag list: @moonlightremblack @mysteriouslyperfecttiger @siriusement @azure-drag0ness @theravenphoenix26 @hisparentsgallerryy @yourmom1092 @canthavetoomuchchaos @xluansstuff

#sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #peter pettigrew #dorcas meadowes #pandora rosier #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #evan rosier

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