#seriously every time i see these types of comments i want 2 bang my head against a wall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nikethestatue · 3 years

Text

La Dolce Vita

Part II

On the Wings of Desire

Warnings: Language

(I had to split this chapter into two because it was getting too long. Hence, no sexy times, but angst galore) Comments and reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Let me know what you think.

Chapter One is here

Two Years Ago

Azriel

Azriel pulled up to the flower shop.

There was a surprise that he wanted to share with Elain, and like a young boy on his first date, he was both excited and nervous. But he hoped that she’d like it. Funny how he still got a little nervous with her, exuberant even.

It’s been three months since they’ve met and he loved every minute that they’d spent together. The nature of their relationship was a little undefined, but he didn’t care. So what if they weren’t ‘dating’? So there weren’t official dinners and outings, to show only the best part of each other to one another? They moved beyond that right away. They simply loved being together. It was inexplicable, how quickly it happened, how easy it was between the two of them, but Azriel could never get enough of Elain.

He came to her shop whenever he wanted, helped her out, hung out with her, and she went to the garage to meet him. If he was busy and couldn’t meet with her, she closed her shop for lunch, and brought him a sandwich, so they could eat together. He loved it, even if he actually had a restaurant and a bar on premises and she technically didn’t need to buy him food. But there was something special about her coming up the stairs to his office, dressed in one of her cute, flowery dresses and heels. Every time it was a different sandwich, a different drink and a different snack—sometimes a cookie, or good chocolate, or weird chips, or a full-on pastry with cream and ganache and whatnot. He developed a strange fascination with his lunch options, never knowing what it would be and eagerly anticipating it.

Sometimes, he took her on long rides—one of their favourite past times. If he knew that she was up to her eyeballs with orders, since this was summer and it seemed like everyone was getting married, he would bring her takeout to the shop, and they’d sit and arrange flowers until the wee hours. When things calmed down, and there was a quiet evening ahead, she usually invited him to come and eat at her place. They cooked together, drank wine, and then went for a walk.

They haven’t had a kiss yet.

Did it bother him? He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t dream of Elain all the time, of her supple, soft body, of how she’d look naked, of how she’d feel when he filled her, what sounds she’d make, what her face would look like when she climaxed around him? Was she a screamer? A beggar? Was she loud or quiet and shy?

She never spoke of her past boyfriends, so he had no idea of how many men she’s been with. Secretly, he hoped that it wasn’t too many. Maybe it was some male thing, but the idea of her with another man, the thought of someone else touching her, making her moan, making her love—it didn’t please him at all. He thought that he was more modern, more advanced in his thinking—and usually he was—but in this case, he was struggling with accepting Elain wrapped around some other male.

Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t even 6 pm yet, the flowers that usually spilled outside the shop were not gracing the pavement and the shop looked closed for the day. But Azriel went and knocked on the glass door anyway, seeing as there was some light coming from Elain’s office in the back. There was no response, but he knocked even harder, almost banging, until he heard Elain’s muffled voice yelling, “we are closed!”

“Laney, open up! It’s me!”

A few moments later, Elain appeared in the darkness and then the door opened.

And his jaw almost dropped.

She stood in front of him, wearing a slinky, satin, cobalt dress that looked almost like lingerie. Of modest length, it nevertheless emphasized her breasts very enticingly: soft and full, and pushed together just enough to create a hint of delicious cleavage. A simple set of glittering silver chains nestled seductively in that yummy valley between her breasts. One bare foot was clad in a strappy silver sandal, while she held the other, and jumped awkwardly on one foot, balancing herself on the doorframe. Her hair was curled and arranged over one naked shoulder.

He struggled to keep his breath from whooshing loudly.

“Whoa…”

“Hi Az,” she sounded…uncomfortable.

“Hey you. Hot date?” he chuckled, eyes gliding from her pretty toes up to her eyes.

Her throat bobbed and she didn’t answer.

Shit.

He fought the urge to cross his arms on his chest. But then he’d look threatening, towering over her, much like his father did when he was in one of his moods. Azriel swore to himself long ago to never, ever cross his arms with women.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming over,” she began, voice wobbling.

“So, you figured that you could sneak out?” he spat unkindly.

“I am not sneaking out!” she snapped, flushed and defiant. “I am going out,”

“With whom?” he demanded.

He and Elain had never fought. Never even disagreed.

They laughed together. They joked and discussed. They argued over books and movies. They talked about design, food and travel, places they wanted to visit, and things they wanted to see. Elain randomly texted him names of 3 and 2 Michelin star restaurants from all over the world, telling him where she wanted to dine, why, and eagerly opining on the menus.

Elain was his.

His little foodie, who was a fearless eater, and sampled just about everything and anything.

Elain was his.

His little art lover, who had a surprisingly wide breadth of knowledge of painting, art history and strong opinions on artists and styles. When he found out that she adored Balthus and that Egon Schiele was her favourite artist of all time, his respect for her only increased.

Elain was his.

His little intellectual, who read Anna Akhmatova’s poetry, listened to Alain Elkann’s podcast, and who could easily talk about the history of Lamborghini or Aston Martin, and Formula 1, just to satisfy him.

What the fuck was this?

Why was his Elain going on some date with another man?

Anger rose in him so quickly; he had a difficult time stopping his hands from shaking. So, he clasped them behind his back.

“It’s none of your business,” she said coldly. “I don’t have to report to you who I am going out with,”

“You don’t?” he demanded absurdly.

“No, I don’t!”

“Please tell me who he is?” he decided on a different approach. His brain was working furiously, trying to dissuade her, yet not anger her, yet find out as much information as possible.

“No!” she shook her head stubbornly. “Why do you even care?”

Why did he care? WHY did he care?

He couldn’t have been misreading all the signs. He couldn’t have been misreading her interest, her acceptance, her want.

There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him—emotionally, as a friend, as a partner, as a lover. Reading people was his job, his calling, and he’d never been wrong. He certainly wasn’t wrong with Elain—she was an open book to him. He didn’t need to evaluate her reactions to his company to know that she was absolutely enthralled with him.

So why this?

Was it something he did? There were no hints of anything amiss the last time they’d seen each other. They were at her place, they cooked Italian together—spaghetti and clams—and he opened a bottle of Petilia Greco di Tufo, a pure, harmonious white from Campania. Then they went to the rooftop—their favourite place—and watched the city, enjoying gelato and playing cards.

Squeezing his hands behind his back, he demanded, “Has he been vetted?”

“Vetted? Vetted?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Who is going to be doing this vetting?”

She stared at him and bit out,

“I don’t like this side of you. This is crazy behaviour,”

“Why? Because you are going on a date? Suddenly. Unexpectedly.”

At that, she blushed furiously, squirming under his heavy, icy gaze.

He continued, “And with some guy you refuse to tell me anything about. Have you told Cass?”

“What? What exactly is Cass? My father?”

“Cass runs security for,”

“I know what Cass does!” she cried, looking furious, but also uncomfortable. Insecure. Anxious. “But I am not telling him. Leave me alone. I am not telling anyone,”

“Not even Nesta? Elide?” he demanded. “And what if something happens?”

“What’s going to happen?!” she asked nervously.

Nothing.

Probably nothing.

He was being an overbearing creep, but he couldn’t stop.

He needed to know. And yes, he wanted her to be safe.

“Who knows?” he shrugged menacingly. “He is unvetted. No one knows anything about him. Have you even Googled him?”

She blushed.

That’s a no.

“Unless you tell me his name, I am not leaving,” he warned. “I need to know who you are going to be with.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he propped himself against the door. “We’ll just stand here.”

“Fine.”

The standoff continued for another few minutes, until, exasperated, she blurted,

“His name is Dorian!”

“Dorian. As in Dorian Gray?”

She rolled her eyes. “How funny.”

He took out his phone and asked, “Does Dorian have a last name?”

“Are you seriously going to Google him?”

“Absolutely I will. Since you didn’t.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’ll await Dorian’s arrival and have a man-to-man talk with him,”

She paled.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me.”

She glared at him, and then sneered, “Why don’t you invite Lorcan too! And Rowan. So the three of you can stand here, in your freaky silent vigil and glare at him, to scare him off.”

“Good idea.”

She shrugged, “And when Dorian comes here, you three can tower over him.”

“Why? Is he tiny?” Azriel snorted.

She rolled her eyes and then thrust her foot into her other heel, finally. As she tied it around her ankle, she muttered angrily, “so disappointed in you,”

“Get in line,” he snapped.

“Adarlan,”

“What?”

“His last name is Adarlan.”

Azriel immediately typed the name into the phone.

A pretty white boy. Columbia. Pre-law.

Figures.

Of course, someone like that would want someone like Elain. And she’d want him in return. Pretty, proper. Pathetic.

“Satisfied?” she rose to her full height. Her cheeks were flushed, brown eyes gleaming with anger and challenge.

She was so beautiful and so annoyed with him, Azriel was blinded by her, by her light, her spirit.

“Not for a while,” he said blandly and shrugged.

That made her redden. Not the blush of anger. Her sexy blush.

So, he went for it.

“Call it off,” he begged.

“What?”

“Call it off. Please.”

“Why?”

Because you are mine.

He wanted to tell her. To explain.

But did he deserve her? All that light and goodness? Perhaps, pretty boy Dorian was indeed more appropriate.

“Because,” he began and then heard a car pull up behind him.

Steps.

He didn’t turn around.

“Elain.”

“Dorian.”

Her face lit up with a smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Just let me grab my bag.”

When she disappeared, Azriel turned around at last.

Dorian was good looking, tall, thin. Young. Looked like a kid, though Azriel figured that he wasn’t much younger than him. But Azriel’s lived about 540 years by now…at least that’s how it felt, and Dorian—Dorian probably had many girlfriends, many friends, and daddy’s money.

He was about as interesting as a bag of beans.

They stared at each other.

Azriel didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t care about anything, other than this is what Elain chose. This Dorian may end up holding Elain’s hand. Perhaps going in for a kiss. That sensuous weak mouth may touch Elain’s perfect lips—the lips that Azriel only dreamt of kissing. And what if it went further?

What if,

No.

Elain was not a ‘first date sex’ kind of girl. Never. Not his Elain.

“Treat her well,” he growled a warning.

Dorian blinked.

“What?”

“Treat. Elain. Well.”

“Who are you?”

“Consider me her brother-in-law.”

“Oh. Okay. Alright. Sure, man. Yeah.”

Fucking intellectual powerhouse.

“I am one of many,”

“Many what?” Dorian asked in confusion.

“Many brothers-in-law. And they all look like me. Some are even bigger.”

“Ready?!” Elain chirped.

“Um, yeah,” Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth.

Azriel finally gave up and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Have fun you two,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. I’ll see you at Rhys’s pool party on Saturday,” Elain acted like everything was normal.

“Sure. Bring Dorian along,” Azriel jerked his chin. “We’ll be delighted to have him.”

Elain

“He is a charmer,” Dorian finally exhaled once they were inside the car.

She grunted in response.

“Does he have enough tattoos?” he started to reverse. “Oh, look, a Ferrari,”

“It’s his,” she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing quickly at the unmoving figure under the awning.

“His? What is he? A drug dealer?”

“Dorian!” she snapped. She was so on edge, she sat on her shaking hands the moment she buckled up.

“Sorry. Sorry. But really, do you want me to,”

She interrupted,

“What? Are you offering to beat him up?”

“I mean,”

“Dorian. He is a Navy Seal,” she said bluntly. “His bicep is the circumference of my head. His buddies are all pushing 6”7 in height and are all former Navy Seals. I am just saying. You aren’t taking him on.”

Dorian didn’t feel the need to disagree.

Azriel

Elain was his home. She was his happy place. His joy.

Her smile made everything better.

When she touched him--his fingers, his cheek—that touch carried more sensual promise than anything he’d ever experienced. And he’d experienced plenty.

Azriel’s only brush with love was when he was 18 and it was right before Morgana fucked Cassian, lost her virginity to him and got pregnant by him. He wondered if that’s what fucked him up, turned him off love for this past decade. Ploughing through endless bodies felt good, though he was usually left with the feeling of residual emptiness and longing. But he accepted it.

Elain though. He didn’t plough into Elain. Never even so much as seen her breast. And yet, his head was filled with her. Images, both erotic and mundane floated through his brain constantly. Elain’s eyes lighting up when he called her ‘baby’. Elain tasting a pastry, in her own special way, sometimes dipping her finger into the cream, and driving him wild. Elain reclining her golden head on the seat of his car, eyes closed. Elain being a little drill master when it came to arranging flowers, absolutely unperturbed by the idea of ordering Rowan and Cassian and Fen around.

That Elain was offering her smile, her time, her attention to that pretty prick Dorian was just intolerable.

If he could, he would actually climb the walls. But Azriel couldn’t climb walls, even if parkour-loving Fenrys would probably teach him how. Therefore, he went back to the shop, where Nuala was just packing up for the day.

“I need your car,” he demanded.

“We are in a garage,” she reminded him reasonably, but nevertheless tossed her keys to him. He caught them with one hand and said, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me like fifty…but who is counting?”

Nuala didn’t know why he needed her car, but she did know that he was beyond pining, at this point. He was in full love mode. As in LOVE. Capital letters, heart palpitations, sleepless nights, acting-like-a-drug-addict LOVE. Who would have thought? Not only that Azriel would fall in love at all, but that it would be with Elain.

Azriel got into Nuala’s ordinary Acura, drove to Elain’s apartment, and kept vigil the very same way she told him he would.

At this point, he didn’t care at all. He sat and waited in his shadows. Waiting like this—he learned this level of patience back in the Navy, during his recon missions—suited him, and his personality. Lorcan and he could sit like this for hours. Days. They weren’t bothered at all. Cassian and Fenrys would whine, complain and bounce like little children.

Shadows were his friends, as they’d always been, since he was a boy and hid from his abusive father. They protected him then, and concealed him now.

Finally, at an acceptable, and slightly boring, 11:23 pm, Dorian’s generic Audi pulled up.

There was no way that either of them would spot him, or assume that he was around.

Dorian opened the door for Elain, and she stepped out. They talked. She smiled. Then laughed.

It all grated on Azriel’s nerves. Go inside! He wanted to shout to her.

Then, Dorian made a move. Azriel tensed, when the pretty boy reached his hand out and ran his knuckles over Elain’s bare shoulder. The hand stopped entirely too close to her breast, as he squeezed her upper arm, holding her close. If Azriel sensed even the tiniest expression of discomfort from her, he’d be flying out of the car in a snap.

They talked some more, that gross hand still resting on Elain’s arm. But then, she opened her arms and Azriel grimaced. No way. No way was she going for a kiss.

And thank all the gods above, but she only hugged him, and not a close hug either—but that awkward, butts-out, shoulders pressed together weird hug. Something males typically gave each other, so careful to avoid any penile interaction. Then she walked to her building and gave Dorian a little wave. He hopped in his car and drove away.

What a prick. Didn’t even wait for her to get inside.

But she stood still, door unopened, keys in her fingers. And then, she peered into the darkness. A long, penetrating gaze. Aimed right at him. Like she saw through the shadows. She looked and looked, and he melted in the shadows, into the darkness of the car.

And then she flipped him off, and walked inside.

Elain

Piled into Lorcan’s Range Rover, it was Elain ad Elide, Lorcan and Connall in the car.

It was a nice day for a pool party, for a long drive to the Hamptons, for enjoying the sunshine.

Elain was having none of it.

She hated this idea to begin with—pool parties—which were full of too-rich and affected young people, prancing around in skimpy underwear. The women too perfect. The men, full of unreasonable expectations.

Feyre and Morrigan liked this crap, Cassian too, Aelin—certainly.

All the people with their perfect bodies and big hair and bigger personalities.

This Range Rover was like the car for outcasts.

Lorcan looked like he wanted to be at a pool party as much as he wanted to have a rectal exam. Connall, she was sure, would just sit by the bar and nurse drinks all day long. Elide would always find an escape with Lor, and the two of them would huddle together and make snide comments about the attendees to each other.

Elain sighed.

She was such a stupid, inexcusably dumb, fucking idiot.

“Do you know why Az isn’t coming today?” Lorcan looked at her in the mirror.

“Oh?”

She bit inside of her cheek, stifling a pathetic cry.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Azriel decided not to attend, but she still harbored hope, somewhere inside of her that he would. That they’d be able to talk. That he’d…

Forgive her?

“No, I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Did you have a fight or something?” Lorcan’s strange black eyes looked at her like they were scraping the edges of her soul. It wasn’t the most comfortable of feelings.

“No.”

She spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence. Even Elide didn’t try to shake her out of her stupor.

As expected, the party was ridiculously over the top.

There were throngs of people milling about, all in various stages of undress. Firm, golden flesh gleamed in the sunlight.

There were three bars—one for beer, one for cocktails and one for everything else. An ice cream station. A s’mores station. Wagyu beef sliders. Lobster hot dogs. Jamon Iberico. Wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano.

Deep down, Elain was grateful that she’d never be this wealthy.

She was happy with her flowers, her shop, and she was considering opening a pastry shop down the road. And then Azriel had his wonderful garage, but successful as it was, it wasn’t on the Darling level of wealth…And that was alright. It was perfectly enough, too much even,

She stopped.

She should’ve just told him. Everything. A long time ago. But the intensity of her own feelings towards him frightened her, and then…she fucked it all up.

She meandered absently around the premises, listening to Feyre’s and Nesta’s screeching from the pool, where both were perched on the shoulders of their respective lovers, whacking each other and others with long plastic poles. Mor and her new girlfriend were making out passionately in a hammock. Fenrys was swarmed by a bevy of busty beauties. And so on…

She was feeling foolish and exposed in her pink bikini, wishing she had a wrap or something. Her body was no worse than all of these other girls’, but she couldn’t help but compare herself to them. They were confident. Exciting. Entertaining. They flirted and laughed loudly. They had sparkly teeth and giant lips.

She didn’t know how to flirt, and wasn’t glamorous or polished like them.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Without a drink?”

A man sidled over, his bold eyes roaming about her body, assessing.

“I am fine, thank you,” she made to get away and walk towards the pool, but he thrust an insistent hand in front of her, holding a drink.

“Come on, sugar. Join me.”

Sugar?

And then, there were four of them. Five.

None were threatening, but being surrounded by so many men, while basically naked was outside of Elain’s comfort zone. They were joking, laughing, chugging their beers. She didn’t know any of them.

“So, who are you?” asked one of them.

“A guest.”

She angled her body towards the pool, trying to sneak past them.

“A guest? We are guests too! Nice party,”

“It is. Pardon me, I have to go,”

“But why?”

One of them caught her hand in his and pulled lightly, grounding her in place.

“Excuse me!” she attempted to withdraw her hand, but he didn’t budge. They herded her a little closer to the house. A sixth man approached, carrying a little tray with tequila shots.

“Where do you got to go, baby?”

Another hand slipped down her back and brushed over her butt, making her jerk.

“What the hell?” she hissed, but her indignation was met with amused smiles.

“Such a pretty girl, all alone. Come, join us,”

“I am not alone!” she snapped angrily.

“Oh no?”

“And who are you with?”

“My fucking boyfriend!” she lied, a little scared now.

“Oh, a boyfriend?” teased one. “And who might that be?”

“Do we know this boyfriend? Where is he?”

She looked around desperately, and then lied again, “He is inside. And coming back, soon.”

Laughter.

“Ohh, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you for an hour, and there is no boyfriend.”

“I think I need to go,”

“But why!?!”

They goaded, “Tell us about the boyfriend?”

“His name is Azriel Bagarat,” she blurted out.

More laughter. Challenging, condescending laughter.

“Really?”

“Mr. Fancy Garage is your boyfriend?”

“Good one! I almost fell for it.”

“Azriel Bagarat-I-date-a-new-girl-weekly makes for a bad boyfriend, honey,”

“You aren’t exactly his type.”

Tears threatened to pour out of her eyes, and she was horrified by her body’s reaction to the taunting.

She threw, “and what type is that?”

“He doesn’t go for squeaky clean girls like you.”

“Maybe it’s an experiment!” laughed one of them. “He is into all sorts of fucking kink. Maybe he is wetting his cock in some virgin flesh,”

“Are you even legal?”

“You look awfully young.”

At this point, Elain was not above screaming for Lorcan, or Rowan, or anyone else. Her looking weak and pathetic was the least of her concerns.

For a moment, the teasing and the laughter died down. One of them exclaimed, “Oh hey. There you are!”

Fuck. Another one.

The scent hit her first. The sharp, intoxicating smell of his expensive Armani cologne. She’d recognize it anywhere. That hint of cedar and a chilled night air. That was him. Her home.

And then, the familiar dark arm slipped across her stomach, tugging her firmly to his front. Another hand slid to her throat, laying on it, but not squeezing. He held her tenderly, close to him, possessively.

“I missed my girl,” he whispered, his gravelly, husky voice so familiar to her ear it sent a shiver down her spine.

Why couldn’t it be like this forever? Her in his arms? Forever?

“My gorgeous girlfriend always brings all the boys to the yard,” he chuckled. And then, to Elain’s utter delight and pleasure, he placed a warm, open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

She shuddered.

He’d never kissed her. Never intimately. Never kissed her like this.

His. She was his. And he just marked his territory.

It was glorious. To be kissed by him was something that she’d dreamt of and here it was—unexpected, sensuous, surprisingly erotic.

His thumb stroked the side of her throat, and then he leaned in and kissed her again. Same spot. Her bare vulnerable throat, her pale neck, his for the taking. She had no control of the situation, and she loved it.

“Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company, gentlemen, but I’ll take it from here.”

Not so brave anymore, in the face of this towering mass of muscle and tattoos, the men sheepishly offered him a shot, which he knocked back and then even attempted to high-five him, though he drew the line at that.

As they scampered away, Azriel did not release Elain from his embrace. She just stood there, with his arm around her, her body pressed into his almost-naked body and all she wanted was to turn around and peek. Or have him kissed her again. She really, really wanted him to kiss her again.

He did not though.

Finally, his arm fell away and he stepped back, causing a sorrowful sigh to erupt in her chest.

She turned around. His face was unreadable, as always, and though she picked out his little tells and signs of emotions now, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” was all she could mutter. He didn’t answer. “I didn’t think you were coming,”

“No need to talk,” he cut her off. Then turned around and added, “feel free to leave with Lorcan or Cass.”

He was walking away when she called out, “Wait. Az. I want to talk. Please,”

“No,” he said simply.

She ran after him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“Az, please, I need to,”

“It’s Azriel to you,” he corrected bluntly. “You don’t get to ‘Az’ me,”

She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes.

“Okay…okay,” she begged. “Azriel, I want to explain, please,”

“You don’t always get what you want,” he threw back.

She paused, but then added,

“But sometimes, you get what you need.”

A tiny smile twitched on his lips. But he schooled his face into neutrality and without turning to her, said,

“If you must tag along for the rest of the day, pretending like you are my girlfriend, it’s up to you,” he shrugged indifferently.

She didn’t care. At least he didn’t send her away. At least, she could be near him, and with time, she’d thaw his anger.

She followed him silently, like dog. Trying to be inconspicuous, but she stayed at his side, even if they didn’t talk and he continuously ignored her. It allowed her time to ogle his incredible body, which she did with relish and without shame. If he was going to be nasty to her, she at least would feast her eyes on all that muscular gorgeousness. Those Cadre men—they were all stunning, at least when it came to their physiques. Azriel, though, was a little more stunning than the others. Only Fenrys, perhaps, was at the same level of attractiveness.

They went to the bar and she followed him faithfully, not letting him out of her sight. He glanced at her, sighed, shaking his head with annoyance, but Azriel being Azriel, he ordered her a mojito, while he drank Sipsmith London Gin and tonic, and after a while, thrust the drink in her hand and muttered, “I am going swimming.”

She took it and sat on a chair, stiff-backed and patient, watching him.

When he emerged from the water, she was waiting for him with a fresh drink.

“Your tattoos look like wings.”

He rubbed a towel over the black and blue tattoos on his shoulders and arms and looked at her.

“Your tattoos,” she said again, watching his wet body and the markings on it come alive on his skin. When he was in the pool, and his arms rose and fell in the water, they looked like wings. “They look like wings. Bat wings.”

“Is that a compliment?” his voice was still cold, bored.

“Yes.”

She handed him his drink and then took his scarred hand in hers. He made to pull away, but she squeezed.

“You are my boyfriend,” she reminded him. “Would be strange if you didn’t want to hold my hand.”

He had no choice but to grip her hand back,

and fuck if it didn’t feel nice.

Two days, and he was going nuts without that little hand. Two days, and he’d missed her touch like it was his life’s necessity.

And then, she gently rubbed her thumb over his own.

“Stop that,” he ordered.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Elain,”

“Azriel,”

“It’s not going to work,” he warned.

She shrugged, “we’ll see.”

They took a few more steps, her thumb still stroking his fingers, and then he stopped abruptly.

“What do you want?”

She looked up at him and said, voice surprisingly firm, “I want to get into your car and drive home with you. I want to cook you dinner. I want to hold your hand. That’s what I want.”

“And what do I want?”

“You want the same thing,” she assured him, unusual confidence in her voice and on her face.

He watched her, unblinking, but she did not balk from his assessing gaze, did not step back. She just clutched his hand like life depended on it. His jowls twitched and he bit his lip, before says, “go and put some clothes on. We are going home.”

“No. Come with me,” she tugged him with her. “I don’t trust you.”

He smiled, at last, and her heart fluttered with joy at the sight of that magical smile.

They found their clothes, threw them atop the bathing suits and as soon as they were dressed, Azriel took her by the hand and led her out to the parking lawn. It was a Maserati Ghibli today, beautifully embellished with subtle pinstripes. No one would dare do this to their 90K car, but Azriel did. And it looked stunning.

The drive wasn’t comfortable.

He still wasn’t speaking to her and she just sat there, for an hour or more, in silence, hands on her lap.

Finally, once they began approaching the city, Elain asked, “where are you taking me?”

“Home,” was all he said, his first word since they got in the car.

She thought and said, “I don’t want to go home.”

His voice mocking and obsequious, he asked, “Please tell me, Elain, where should your personal Uber take you? Would you like a coffee? A snack? A walk in the park? A trip to the library? Should I deliver you into Dorian’s loving embrace?”

“Stop it,” she snapped at him, all red and angry. “Stop with all that!”

Azriel plowed forth, ignoring her command, “where was he today, by the way? Why was I stuck rescuing the damsel in distress? Where is brave Dorian?”

“Nobody asked you to rescue me!” she lied, suddenly realizing that maybe, that kiss meant nothing to him. That it was all for show.

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling that situation very well,” he decided dryly.

“You know,” she folded her arms on her chest, “do take me home.”

“Good.”

Once they entered the city proper, Azriel fought the traffic aggressively, swearing under his breath more frequently than usual, obviously intend on getting rid of her as soon as possible.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t break through. Couldn’t get to him, not around the walls that he’d constructed around himself. She thought that she could, but she was wrong.

Finally, they were coming towards her block.

The silence was stifling. Unbearable.

“Why did you do it?” he blurted suddenly.

She looked at him, but before she could offer any explanations or excuses, he continued, not looking at her, “Was I not enough? Was he better?”

“He is nothing,” she managed, desperation tinging her voice, her whole being. She reached out to touch him, but he jerked his arm away.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Nothing? Why would you do this, Elain? Was I not enough? Too weird? Too brown? Too low-born? Too fucked up?”

Elain stared at him in horror. She was numb. Words failed her.

He was shaking his head.

There was true sadness, dejection written on his face. Devastation.

“I was falling in love with you, Elain,” he said so softly, she barely heard the words. “For three months, I’ve been falling in love with you. I’ve loved everything about you. I knew that the hammer would drop…One day, it would drop because it’s not like this could ever be,” he made a wide gesture with his hand.

He stopped the car next to her house.

“But I thought that it would be me. That I’d fuck up somehow and you’d dump me. Which would be…expected…”

He sighed, his breath so ragged it sounded like a sob.

“But I didn’t expect this. Truly. Though looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t?” he shrugged. “That’s what Mor did—the only other one I thought that I loved. But we were young and stupid, so…” he was looking out the window, seemingly talking to himself, not to her anymore. “But now I am almost thirty and for once, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this one time, I’d get what I want.”

Elain was weeping silently, fat tears pouring onto her hands, dripping off her face.

“I wanted you more than anything, Elain.”

Elain. Elain. Elain.

She hated that he called her Elain.

She hated that he didn’t use his usual endearments with her, that she was no longer his ‘baby’ nor his ‘love’. She wasn’t his ‘gorgeous’ or his ‘beautiful’. She was just Elain.

There was no warmth in his voice. Only some kind of hollowed emptiness, instead of the usual teasing smirk, the undercurrent of humour and love, of tender softness that he always used with her. Only with her.

“You can have me,” she managed finally through her sobs. “You can ha--…”

He finally turned his head and looked at her, that gaze dark and pitiless.

“I am not sure I want you anymore. We’ll coordinate the wedding situation and we’ll be civil to each other, for Feyre and Rhys’s sakes. Goodbye Elain.”

She sat there. He waited. Then, with a groan, he got out and went to open the door for her.

As she stepped out of the car, she begged one more time, “Azriel. Please. Please just allow me the opportunity to talk to you,” she wiped her face, with her fist.

It destroyed him completely.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, as he tracked her movement, that childish, simple, raw flick of her fist over her eyes. It wasn’t the modelled, reserved, dab-the-eye practiced move that you saw on reality shows, the fake tears, the faux sadness.

This was Elain; sorrowful, devastated, begging.

“Please,” she pleaded again.

“I asked you to call it off,” he reminded her. “I begged you. You didn’t.”

She choked on a sob.

“You threw it in my face, Elain. This random man, whom you also led on, by the way. Led him believe that you were interested. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I am too old for this…Allow me the opportunity to just deal with this break up—or whatever it is—however I can. We both need to move on.”

He’d never left a crying woman on a sidewalk.

But he’d also never been in love before. And his heart had never been broken like this.

********************

Azriel

Nuala Gennaro has been trying to reach her boss for three days, to no avail.

He didn’t respond to texts, or to calls. He didn’t show up to work. He wasn’t at the garage, at the tattoo shop, or his design studio. He didn’t seem to be home either, because she drove by his loft a few times and the windows remained dark.

She had keys to his house, but that was a violation of privacy that she didn’t feel like engaging in just yet. Was this an emergency? He gave her the key for ‘emergencies’. Was this one? A healthy, 29-year-old handsome man disappearing for three days didn’t seem like an emergency, but still, Nuala was concerned.

She was going to give him one more day, and if he was still AWOL then she’d begin to worry.

Azriel was responsible. Whatever was happening in his life typically did not reflect on his work ethic. Besides, he was usually so guarded and seemingly unemotional, it was hard to say if he was affected by anything. Nuala had met him in high school—a beautiful, quiet, mysterious boy who looked like a fallen angel and who seemed unusually confident and astute for his age.

They reconnected after he and his brothers returned from the Navy. He was darker and quieter than she remembered, and hardened in his manner and bearing, and had a haunted look in his eyes which worried Nuala for quite some time. She’d been apprenticing as a tattoo artist and they’d met to discuss her joining his venture. She wasn’t sure if this whole garage/restaurant/tattoo parlour for rich people thing was going to be feasible or even realistic, but Azriel believed in the concept and somehow, got her enflamed by his passion as well. They’d slept together over the years, but even if she would have wanted more, he wasn’t willing to give it to her. Azriel went through women with the determination to conquer, mild interest and lack of follow up. But he never gave any of himself to them. Pleasure—yes. Self—no. So, Nuala had decided—staying with him and in his life, in his business, as his protégé and associate was more important than having him as a lover, even if he was by far the best lover she’d ever had.

The only thing that did seem to affect him—deeply, powerfully—was Elain Archeron.

Nuala didn’t think that it would happen. Didn’t think that Azriel was a man to fall in love so passionately, so completely, and even if he was denying it to himself, Nuala knew him well enough to know the truth. And whatever happened between him and Elain, approximately a week ago or so, truly devastated him.

Prior to his disappearance, he operated as if he was in some sort of fog. He answered questions, he gave instructions and directions, he did whatever was expected of him—met with clients, held meetings with his car suppliers, negotiated deals—but his heart was not in it. His beloved business was no longer his priority, and that confounded Nuala, for she had never seen him like this before.

She arrived early, earlier than usual, because she needed to get crackin’. Without Azriel, things seemed…tighter…more difficult. She’d never noticed it, but somehow, he carried this business, made it seem easy, and she falsely believed that it was a walk in the park. Gods, it wasn’t! It was busy, and difficult, and required constant attention and decision making, and reports only piled on her desk—financials, inventory, guest lists, requests, specs. It was endless.

Azriel’s office, a glass cube perched at the top of the building and overlooking everything below, the entire operation, was very dimply lit this early morning. Cassian installed one-way floor to ceiling windows in the office, so no one could look inside, but Azriel was able to see everything, if he so desired.

Nuala climbed the industrial-style stairs and opened the door without knocking.

At first, she thought that there was a fire. The office was entirely engulfed in smoke, but before she could hit the alarm button, nauseatingly pungent stench of tobacco assaulted her nostrils.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes, and rushing to open the outside windows. She left the door open as well, to encourage some sort of ventilation.

“What the hell,” she muttered again, finally making out Azriel in the dimness, who was sprawled on the leather sofa, in jeans and boots and a black t-shirt, his arm hanging listlessly to the floor, a cigarette between his fingers. On the floor, an almost empty bottle of Jameson’s and an overflowing ashtray, stuffed to the brim with butts. Tom Waits’s insanely gravelly, bourbon-and-tobacco-soaked voice filled the space as well.

“Wow,” she crossed her arms on her chest. “Wow.”

“Why are you here so early?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Funny thing—my boss disappeared for three days. Four days, actually. No word. No text. No call. No email. No warning. No idea whether he is dead or alive. So yes, it’s made for some early mornings for some of us.”

No answer.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and said nothing.

“What the fuck, Az?”

“Like you said,” he shrugged indifferently, “I am the boss. I don’t have to report to anyone.”

Nuala bit her lip, but did not retort in the way she wanted to retort.

“Where were you?” she inquired calmly.

“Vegas.”

“Vegas?”

“Rhys’s Bachelor Party.”

“Oh.”

“I won money. It’s somewhere,” he glanced around absently. “Give it to some charity…”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

She didn’t push him. But added, “you can’t smoke here.”

“It’s my shop,”

“Even though. State and city regulations.”

He put out his cigarette compliantly.

“It’s 5 am. When did you start drinking?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.

He gave a lazy glance and shrugged,

“Technically, I didn’t stop drinking…It’s been a few hours…”

She was shaking her head.

He stared into the ceiling blindly, wordlessly.

Nuala didn’t know, but she also knew. So she took pity on him.

“Az,”

“I’d like to be alone now.”

“I will leave you alone,” she promised. “But…” she let out a whoosh of air, preparing herself. “Elain,”

He didn’t react.

“Elain is downstairs.”

To that he did react. He sat up so quickly, she didn’t track the movement with her eyes.

“I found her on the steps, outside,” said Nuala. “She looks like hell. I barely recognized her.”

“Why is she here?” he asked stupidly.

“I think you should probably ask her that. She wouldn’t come inside,” Nuala explained. “She said that she’s been sitting outside since 4 am, hoping to catch you.”

But Azriel was already out the door, sprinting down the stairs, making Nuala gasp, as he took three at a time, and she feared that he’d fall down on the concrete floor and break every bone in his body.

It was only five in the morning, and the streets, even NYC streets, were empty.

It was drizzling, a summer thunderstorm about to erupt.

Elain was sitting on the doorstep, arms wrapped around her knees, huddling into herself in the morning chill.

“Elain,”

She jumped up and turned to him.

He never saw her like this—wrecked. Utterly devastated. Wilted.

His lovely flower girl, his little rose, his darling beauty—wilted. Instead of her usual colouring of pink and golden, caramel and honey and cream, she looked black and white. Like everything was leeched out of her, every spark, all joy, each remarkable hue.

They did not greet each other. She just looked at him, and,

“I’ve hurt you,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady, the tone firm. “I know that. And you can leave and discard me, and you have every right,”

Azriel just stood there, looking at her, unable to get enough. Thinking that there was a possibility that this was going to be one of their last conversations. And that possibility was unacceptable to him. It was intolerable.

The rain began to fall.

Azriel moved under the awning, angling his body so she would come and stand under it as well, but she didn’t move.

Steady droplets pounded the pavement, giving off that fresh smell of wet asphalt. The air was heavy and humid and felt unsettled, like it was preparing for a torrent.

“But know this one thing,” she continued, staring at him, unblinking, eyes brimming with tears. “I fell in love with you on Saturday, May 9th, at 7:14 in the morning. I had loved you every moment of my life since then. I will love you every moment of my life until I die. Nothing will ever change that. I don’t speak to you as some besotted, inexperienced girl, who is smitten by a handsome man…I speak to you from my soul. You have my heart, Azriel. Every broken and sad piece of me, you’ve managed to put together with your beautiful, scarred hands. I will never ask for anything of you—not even a word back, but I needed you to know this. I want you know that I’ve never loved anyone, no man, no being, not my sisters or my parents, as much as I love you. All my joy, my peace, my dreams are connected to you. You are the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last when I fall asleep—and then I dream of you. I don’t care if you know this, but I’ve built up my whole life around you in my head, all my fantasies are about you. All I want is to love you. That is all. Not very ambitious, I know,” she wiped the tears that were flooding her face, mixing with the rain, “but I can’t think of anything that would ever bring me more happiness, more satisfaction than to love you. And…” she choked a quiet sob, “if you don’t want me—that is alright…I want you to be happy. And if I don’t make you happy, then, so be it, but,”

Azriel couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t contain his bursting breath, his aching heart. Every bit of him felt electrified, wild, untamed.

He grabbed her, his arm pressing her soaking wet body to him, the rain pouring over them, and she trembled and sobbed next to him. Such indescribable hope in her eyes. That maybe, just maybe, it would all turn out like her fantasies.

He cupped her wet, pale face in his palm and murmured,

“You want me?”

Her trembling fingers traced his cheekbone and she nodded mutely.

“Say it,” he groaned.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Say more,” he begged. “Say everything.”

“I love you. I choose you. I want you.”

He soaked it all up. Every breath. Every word. Every emotion on her face.

“Well,” he muttered, “if we are keeping score…then I fell in love with you on Tuesday, May 5th, at 4:47 in the afternoon.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching at him with desperate hands, as if fearing that he would disappear. Turn around and leave her.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

He was exactly where he wanted to be. Yearned to be all his life.

“First glance, baby,” he lovingly caressed her face, “first glance. Love at first sight.”

She kissed the tips of his fingers.

“You are my home, Elain,” he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, her cheek pressed to his chest, his hand cradling her head, “my favourite person in my life. With you, all things are possible. Sometimes, I feel like I can fly. Like I’ve grown wings and I hear the song of the wind. But I think that it’s just your voice in my head. You won’t leave, right?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “No. Never.”

“Because this week,” he shuddered, “it’s like I lost a limb…There was this phantom reminder of you, always within me, and yet, you weren’t there. I couldn’t reach and find you next to me. I’ve never felt such emptiness,” he brought her hand to his chest and lay it on her booming heart, “there was nothing here,” he pressed her hand closer, and she felt the steady beat, “empty…You weren’t with me, and there was nothing left.

“I think I’ve been in love with you—forever. I don’t even believe in past lives or other worlds, but sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for eternity.”

She raised her face to him, surprise and awareness in her red-rimmed eyes,

“I feel the same. Az, I’ve always felt the same thing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, “when we held hands the first time, when we just met, I recognized your touch. I knew your scars. It was all familiar to me, like stepping back into my own home, after a long absence. Reacquainting myself with something that I already loved.”

He cupped her face in his hands and asked,

“May I kiss you?”

“You have to kiss me,” she smiled a happy, luminous smile at him. “I’ve waited for a long time for you to kiss me.”

Azriel smiled, and looked up, rain drenching his face and their bodies.

“Are we really going to do this? In the pouring rain?”

She was grinning, smiling happily, nodding, “All the cliches in the world!”

He clasped her jaw in his hand, wrapping his other arm tighter about her.

“I loved when you kissed me at the party,” she admitted, a little breathless.

“Yes?” he murmured and then dipped his head, and gently pressed his lips to her throat.

Elain shuddered against him, her breasts, nicely full, round and soft pressed tightly against his chest, and she sighed her pleasure.

“Like that?” he whispered against her cold, wet skin, and she half-moaned, nodding. So he kissed her neck again, on the other side, raking his teeth gently along the warm, pulsating vein. He kissed along her collarbones, tender and sweet, but with acute intention. Her breasts moved against his chest, their shirts nor her bra providing much of a barrier between his skin and her firm, swollen nipples.

Up her throat he went with his lips, kissing softly, until he pulled away for a moment, their breaths mingling, warm next to each other. He tilted her face just so, to have better access to her full mouth, and then kissed the plump lower lip. She clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, the rain forgotten, the world encapsulated in his mouth, in the loving pressure of his lips against hers.

Elain looked irresistible. In his arms, where, let’s face it, she belonged, with her cheeks finally, finally taking on the familiar rosy blush.

Azriel, all 6”4 or “5 of the dark, bestial sexiness of him was wrapped around her. The low, sensual purr that he emitted turned into something more primal, hungrier when his mouth moulded into hers. The base, animalistic attractiveness of him, the bronze arms, the thick markings of his tattoos all over his skin, slithering like shadows, was almost too much for Elain to handle all at once, and she moaned, loud, and desperate against his lips. He brushed his nose against her cheek, and then nose to nose, and she was so stupidly needy for him that she struggled to stay upright. He brushed his fingertips over her lips, squeezing them between his and her own, and she licked on the pad of his thumb, laving some of the scars with the tip of her tongue.

Gods, this man could kiss.

Brutal, savage and noble--all amalgamated into one indescribable, unforgettable experience. Hungry and knowing, agonizingly slow, he devoured her mouth like it was some succulent, exotic fruit that he’s been craving. His lips explored her thoroughly, unhurriedly, tasting and savouring, caressing and worshipping. It was she who slipped her tongue inside his mouth, tentatively at first, but then gaining in boldness and confidence, especially once he sucked her in and stroked it with his own. He tasted of something masculine: alcohol, maybe, deep and rich and smokey, and tobacco, certainly, which, surprisingly, she enjoyed, but also something sexual. If Elain ever thought that she could taste passion, this lazy, indulgent sucking of his tongue on hers was exactly that. He groaned into her mouth, low and hot, and then licked on her tongue, with sensual playfulness which she loved.

She was hot in his arms, against his towering, heated body, and even the pouring rain couldn’t cool her off. The slabs of his abdominal muscles pressed into her belly and she was growing positively addicted to having him so close to her, his massive strength enveloping her so nicely, cushioning her against him. Nothing in her life has ever felt so wonderful, so sublime as Azriel felt in her arms.

Their kiss went on and on, heady and glorious, with him exploring every bit of her mouth with his tongue and lips, his hands caressing her body unobtrusively.

“Gods, I want to kiss you for eternity,” he moaned, tearing himself away from her lips at last.

She was panting, glassy-eyed, in love. He squeezed her face between his palms, looking down at her, her happiness, the unabashed joy in her eyes.

He’d finally made someone happy.

“Okay,” she agreed easily.

He smiled and kissed her again, then again, his lips creating a certain magic between his mouth and her skin and their bodies.

Elain had fought for him.

She didn’t give up. Didn’t shrug it all off. Didn’t leave in anger or panic. His absence meant something to her—perhaps, meant more than he could understand. He knew the misery of not having her in his life. It was only a week, but it was a week of pure hell. Now, he assumed that it wasn’t only he who felt that gaping chasm in his heart. She, for some inexplicable reason, loved him. Of that, he was certain.

“Now, I think we’ve satisfied any girl’s quota of romantic cheesiness,” he decided and she laughed, slapping his bicep lightly. He kissed her softly, “and I am taking you inside,” he said.

Elain only now realized that her feet haven’t been touching the asphalt for the duration of the kiss. She was literally floating aboveground, in his arms, in the throes of their first kiss.

The cheesiness quotient has been achieved indeed.

“Will you kiss me more?” she asked, as he swung her in his arms and carried her inside the shop.

“I am confident that I will never stop kissing you,” he assured and made his way up the stairs, to the office, clutching the dripping mess that she was in his arms.

She’s been here before, but he brought her straight into the attached bathroom, which was appointed outlandishly, and with a nice shower too.

“Get in there,” he ordered, “now. Before you catch a cold because of your love for kissing in the rain,”

She giggled, kiss-drunk and toed off her soaking wet converse that smacked limply on the tiled floor.

“But what am I going to wear?”

“My clothes, obviously,” he shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine, because naked is just fine by me. Actually, preferred,”

She snickered, but looked at him, a little uncertain, and he rolled his eyes and muttered, “yes, yes, I will leave! Don’t worry. Though you know, I will eventually see everything anyway. So your modesty is misplaced on me.”

Azriel was correct. A hot shower was perfect. Despite it being late August, standing under pouring rain wasn’t as much fun as they made it seem in the movies.

The door opened and he came in, “here is some stuff for you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, probably a little sultrier than she intended, and he winked, “Nice ass!”

“Ugh, stop looking!” she croaked, but he only laughed.

“You are the one with the bare butt!”

Then, he scratched his chin and bit his lip, making no move to leave.

“Az!” she exclaimed, blushing, but also kind of … intrigued.

“This is a very, very, very nice ass,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. Her blush only intensified, when he said, “the things I am going to do with it. Mmmm,” he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, as if contemplating what he will be doing with her butt and then finally walked out, shaking his head.

When Elain emerged from the bathroom, with her hair wrapped in the towel and wearing Azriel’s t-shirt and shorts, she found him in a leather chair, sipping coffee. He’d also changed and his hair was mussed and damp, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, resting on a leather stool.

“There is coffee for you,” he jerked his chin towards a marble coffee table that had a basket of pastries and two large cups of coffee.

He marked everything.

How she looked in his clothes, which were much too big on her, yet cozy, though the shorts that she wore were hilarious, reaching below her knee.

How she brought him his coffee first, before taking her cup.

How she sat on the stool, by his feet and crossed her legs, before giving him a croissant and biting into her own.

“Have you warmed up?” he asked, sipping his coffee. Chugging gallons of coffee American style wasn’t his thing—he preferred quick, small espressos, but this giant cup did take the chill away.

She nodded.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

She tensed right away, and he said, “All is forgiven, I swear. “

She eyed him suspiciously, nevertheless.

He smiled at her, and added, “But...I think that I need to understand what happened? Did I do something to,”

“No!” she exclaimed immediately. “No. It was nothing you did. Never think that it was you,”

“Alright,” he said calmly. “Then what was it?”

She didn’t look up from her cup, running a finger over the rim.

“Talk to me, love,” he encouraged softly.

“You’ve consumed me, Azriel,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “From the moment I saw you, you’ve consumed me. And I guess…” she sighed, “I was stupid…a stupid, stupid person because I didn’t know,”

“What?”

“Whether I was infatuated, or in love with you. So I thought that maybe, if I expose myself to another man, even in some minor way, I might be able to tell what I feel,”

“And? Did you?”

“Dorian…” she swallowed nervously, “he is a nice guy. He is in Law School with Nesta—that’s how I know him. When he asked to go to dinner, and I said yes,”

She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out from her eyes,

“And I felt nothing,” she admitted, her voice broken somehow. “I could only think of you. The entire time, I could only think of you and I knew that it wasn’t fair to him…”

Azriel agreed, “probably not”.

“And I knew that I’d made a colossal mistake… But,” she set her cup on the floor and squeezed her fingers. “I…”

She halted. Said nothing else.

Azriel waited.

“What?” he probed, sensing that there was something she wasn’t telling him. He reached for her, but she only shrunk into herself.

“Elain, what is it?” he pressed.

She blushed and murmured, “promise me you won’t leave me, if I tell you.”

His brow furrowed, “Please,” he begged, “tell me what’s going? You are legit scaring me right now.”

“You won’t lea--,”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I am not leaving you, no matter what. But are you alright?”

She pulled her hair from the towel and it spilled over her shoulders, half-obscuring her face. He reached and tucked the wet strands behind her ears, so he could see her face.

“Talk to me, baby,” he urged gently.

She exhaled and then said, looking straight at him,

“I’ve never been with a man, Az.”

He looked at her and then blurted, absurdly, “Like a virgin? But you are so hot!”

She couldn’t help and burst out laughing.

“I guess not hot enough,” she shrugged, a bit more relaxed about the situation now that he seemed relieved and smirking too.

He exhaled, deeply, bubbling his lips, “Phew…I thought it was something,” he shook his head, not able to express his relief. “Important…Something, I don’t know, serious?”

“What would be serious?”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted, “but certainly more serious than a hymen!”

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“And I appreciate you telling me,” he said seriously, kissing the inside of her hand, but then, that glint in his eyes returned and he asked, “so did you want the hunky Dorian to deflower you?”

She pushed at him with her foot and he fell back dramatically in his chair,

“Auuu, you are so unbelievably violent!” he complained, rubbing his side.

“I can be even more violent!” she threatened.

He was laughing, but then he caught her feet in his hands and squeezed them gently, holding them on his lap.

“So you didn’t have boyfriends in high school? In college?” he asked at last, genuinely perplexed.

She sighed and explained,

“In high school I was dating Luce,”

“You were dating a girl?” his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know,”

She started to laugh,

“No! Luce is a man. Lucien,”

“Oh…Oh. Every time you mentioned Luce, I just assumed he was a she.”

“No, he is my best friend. The closest friend I’ve ever had, besides maybe Nesta. We’ve always been close and then in high school, we began dating,” she tugged on her wet hair, “or rather, go on dates.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I didn’t know either—not in the beginning. But then, when we were juniors in 11th grade, he came out, to me only.”

“Ahhh,”

“Lucien’s step-father is really horrible. Like, awful. Physically abusive to all his sons, and always fancied himself this alpha male. So for Lucien to come out to him would have been suicide.

“We agreed that we’d continue our ‘dating’, until we graduate, and Luce was looking at schools only in California. As far as possible from here, from Beron.”

“And you were…okay with it?” he inquired, gently massaging her feet.

She shrugged, “I suppose I was. Luce and I had a good relationship,”

“But it was without any,”

“Intimacy,” she nodded. “I don’t know, I suppose it was enough…My mother had died recently and we lost most of our money, so I guess dating and boyfriends weren’t a priority, if I am being honest.”

He nodded with understanding.

“And college?”

“I had a boyfriend,” her voice wobbled a little, “but he…”

The heavy gaze that Azriel levelled at her told her that he already guessed.

“Sometimes,” she said, “when you are in the situation, you don’t see the warning signs,”

“Did he hit you?” his voice, so cold and menacing, sent a chill down her body.

She shook her head, “No. It didn’t get that far…Cass interfered,”

“Cass?”

“We’ve known Cass for at least a year,” she reminded him, “before he started dating Nesta. He spent a lot of time with us, at the house, because I think he didn’t want to part with Nesta,”

Azriel smiled, “No he didn’t. He wouldn’t stop talking about her for a year…I’d never seen him like that. First Rhys, then Cassian…Guess there is something special about these Archeron sisters,” he decided and stroked her face lovingly, smiling at her. She tucked his palm between her cheek and shoulder and kissed it.

“They do have a tendency to fall in love with the three brothers,” she agreed.

“Yes, they do.”

“Cass, he called us ‘his girls’—Feyre and I. Always asking after ‘his girls’, bringing us presents, doing fun things with us. And I came to love him so much,” she sighed. “And I know that he truly loves us too…But you know Cass—he is a no-nonsense kind of a guy. So once, he observed Graysen with me,”

“Graysen?” Azriel rolled his eyes. “That’s a horrible fucking name,”

She laughed,

“It matched his personality. But you know, on paper, he looked great. Handsome, good family, money,”

“So basically Dorian?”

Elain rolled her eyes,

“You are never going to have me live this down, will you?”

“Not for a while.”

“At least you are honest. Gray, he just…didn’t care, I guess? It was all about him. When I’d talk about opening my shop, it would just be a plain ‘no’. He’s put me down…” she sighed, “sometimes comment on my weight—I was either too fat or too thin.” Azriel flinched at that. She continued, “He’d tell me what to eat. What to wear. Where to go,”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

Then, he sat up straight in the chair and opened his arms to her.

“Come here.”

Elain, a bit unsure, and a bit rattled by the memories, moved towards him. He cupped her face in his broad scarred hands and said, “All in the past. Now, it’s just you and me.”

She nodded, gently squeezing his wrists. He leaned in closer and she nodded. His sort of power, the more aggressive and primal, and seemingly more dominant than what Graysen could ever conjure up, did not scare Elain at all. He beckoned and seduced her with that pursuit and challenge, but he did not frighten or oppress. It was similar to what Cassian possessed and how he managed to seduce Nesta with it, turned her compliant to his demand and instruction, or Lorcan with Elide. Azriel’s power, his seduction, were more cerebral, his affection passionate, but controlled. Elain could abandon herself to him, and yet she knew that she’d never be abused or taken advantage of, no matter how much control she relinquished.

This kiss was sultry and voluptuous, and it felt dirtier, heavier than their first one. He sucked her lips, is tongue softly grinding against her in a smouldering, almost smug rhythm. He fucked into her mouth steadily, and purposefully, rendering her completely breathless in his arms almost instantly, forcing all thoughts of previous loves and heartaches out of her head. She made a tiny, strangled noise deep inside her throat and squeezed his wrists harder.

“Tell me things, baby,” he muttered heatedly against her lips, thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

She smiled, “what things would you like to hear?” He kissed her softly, lips pecking on hers playfully, and said, “all the things…all the good things that you told me before,”

“That I love you?” she asked simply, looking at him with earnest, undimming desire.

“Yes,” he groaned, pulling her closer to him, until she was straddling his thighs, her legs naturally falling on either side of him. A desperate moan escaped his lips, as Elain licked on them with the tip of her tongue, before he demanded, between kisses and caresses of his tongue in her parted mouth, “more,”

“I love you. I love you,” she breathed, then panted, “you are mine…I am yours. Forever, if you’d like,”

“I’d like forever,” he agreed.

She pulled away, her soft, lovely face serious,

“Az,”

“Elain,”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, and he grinned, nodding. She sounded absurdly solemn about this, like she was signing a business contract. “I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend,”

“Alright, babygirl, I will be your boyfriend,” he nodded easily.

“No jokes.”

He then said in turn, “But you’ll be mine.”

She nodded.

“In every way,” he added, in a tone that did not allow space for much argument. “Body,” and he lightly ran his knuckles against the side of her breast, and she nodded. He added, “but I want more,”

“What do you want, Az?”

“Love,” he said simply.

She kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

He waited.

“I chose you, Azriel, the moment I saw you. When my heart dropped at the sight of you, and when everything fell into place. I don’t mind choosing you for the rest of my life, if you have me,” she murmured shyly.

“I will have you,” he agreed, her admission making him swallow hard, a thick glob of air lodged in his throat. He might have cried, if he weren’t so happy. His flower girl. His.

He looked and looked, and considered something. She waited, silent. Silence was always a friend between the two of them. Silence was easy and unoppressive and welcome. It allowed them space, and yet they remained together in that mute, mutual understanding. While he was thinking, she took his hand and softly kissed each scarred fingertip.

“I am calling on my bargain,” he declared suddenly, and stroked her head.

Confused, she scrunched her face and muttered, “what?”

He grabbed her behind in his strong hands and somehow, managed to rise up, with her clutching at him. His nose burrowed into her ear and she squirmed, giggling, when he grunted, “what a nice little ass!”

“You seem to like it,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

“I love it!”

“Now what about this bargain?” she reminded him, a bit concerned. “What are we doing?”

“Whatever I want!”

“Az!”

“Lainey.”

He headed for the door, with her in his arms, and she screeched, “I don’t even have shoes on!”

“You don’t need shoes where we are going,”

“Azriel!”

“Why are you so fussy?” he mused, smirking, as he made it down the stairs.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you. All I promised was that it’s not going to be ‘bad’ whatever that means.”

She sighed, shaking her head, muttering under her breath. He, in turn, very much enjoyed her clutching at him, her body in his arms, her wet hair swiping over his arm. She looked very cute, if very ridiculous in his clothes, and frankly, he was too elated, too disbelieving that this was even real, to let her go. He held her and nuzzled at her neck, at her face, sometimes returning to her beautiful mouth.

He carried her through the still-empty premises, though waiters at the bar and delivery people in the kitchen were starting their day. When they saw their boss carrying a woman, who frequently visited him here in the past few months, they pretended not to notice, as if this was a normal affair. In fact, no other woman ever came here, to visit him. He’s never been seen with a woman, never said that he had a girlfriend, even if women seemed to lose their minds in his presence. But until this one—absolutely not the type of a woman he typically attracted—he never allowed anyone to get close to him.

Azriel made his way into the cavernous insides of the building, at last entering the tattoo shop that he had on premises. It was elegantly outfitted and bore his usual aesthetic—restrained, modern, striking with its use of black, white, and splashes of cobalt.

Elain looked around, when he set her down and pointed out, “I’ve been here before.”

He nodded.

As she wandered about, looking at various lithographs and prints with unique tattoo designed, she finally stopped abruptly and whirled to him,

“No!”

He was laughing under his breath.

“No!” she exclaimed again.

“No what?” he winked, sitting down on a stool, and patting on a leather recliner beside it.

“You…” she fumed. “No!”

He tsked, “A bargain is a bargain.”

“Azriel!” she stomped her foot.

He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at her, “Elain.”

“I am not getting a tattoo!”

“You most certainly are. Stop being a wuss and come here.”

“I am not going to,” she insisted.

“You know,” he notified her conversationally, as he started to prep his equipment, “a shitty little Bagarat tattoo is like $800 bucks,”

“Congratulations. Give it to someone else,” she offered, scowling. “Maybe someone would like a sleeve for twenty grand!”

“I won’t give you a sleeve. Jeez, you’ll probably faint at the first prick,”

She huffed, “I will not!”

He shrugged.

She pressed, “I will not. I am not afraid of needles and I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Lots of talk, babe, no action,”

Stomping angrily, she crossed the open space and challenged, “do you even know how to tattoo?”

“Cass and Rhys…” he winked. “And whenever Rowan decides to add to his collection…Or Gavriel,”

Those were some of the finest, most intricate designs that Elain’s ever seen.

“You did those?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“They are beautiful,” she whispered.

“Will you trust me?” his voice softened and he extended his hand to her.

Elain sighed and then slid on the lounge chair. It was comfortable. She was nervous.

“What will it be?” she asked. “May I see it?”

Wordlessly, he pulled a piece of paper from a folder, but then did not give it to her. She waited. He suddenly seemed uncertain, almost shy.

“Az,” she said gently, “may I see it? I am sure it’s beautiful.”

He swallowed and then explained, “I traced it the first day…evening…When we met, and you were here, at the garage. I,” he exhaled and then looked at her, “anyway…I was overwhelmed, I guess. I fell in love with you and all I could think of was you.”

The words warmed her up, and everything in her softened at his nervousness, at his admission.

“I want it,” she took the paper from him.

“It’s just for you,” he clarified. “It’s unique to you. I needed to quiet my brain and capture the essence of you, and this was it,”

Elain looked at the drawing. It was smaller than she expected, and rendered masterfully—an absolutely exquisite flower cradled in an embrace of two wings.

He swallowed tightly, and then said, “It’s called On the Wings of Desire.”

Without saying anything, Elain pulled up the shirt that she was wearing, just up to her chest. He looked down at her, expectantly.

She put her hand under her left breast, where her heart was and said, “there. I need it there.”

He nodded, remaining silent.

She saw that this was important to him, some ritual that he desired for her to go through, some sort of marking. That’s what it was. It dawned on her, at last. This was his mark, on her. He was going to do it himself, put a part of him, of his creation, of his work, not just on her skin, but within her blood, into her.

She clasped his hand and his eyes flew to her, a shadow of apprehension and anxiety in them, probably as much emotion as he’d be willing to show. He feared that she’d changed her mind.

“Az,” she licked her lip, suddenly nervous to request this of him. “Can you,”

“What?”

“Can you do it on you as well?” she proposed quietly.

He, it seemed, was unable to verbalize what he needed to, so she helped him, “Same spot, alright? Across your heart. So you know that I am always with you, as you are with me.”

He nodded vigorously, clearly relieved and absolutely in love with her proposition.

“Who will do it?” she wondered. “Please don’t ask me!” she laughed.

He smirked. “Nuala. She will do it. Only Nuala or Rowan tattoo me.”

She nodded and then relaxed back into the leather.

“No crying,” he said.

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Kind of weird that you are this sensitive to pain, but okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

He was laughing.

“I thought only Nesta had a big mouth like that,” he said, as he prepped the skin and pulled on his gloves.

“Mistake number one,” teased Elain.

“I am seeing that now,”

He then said, “Okay, I may accidentally brush against the boobie,”

“How accidentally?” she chuckled, while he pressed the outline into her skin. Then, the needle began its wheezing and Elain winced, as the first prick of the needle stung her skin.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” it was more painful than she expected, and she figured that the spot that she selected was probably not the best and would hurt more than an arm or a leg, but she was set on it.

“Absolutely, totally accidentally,” he lied. “You are the one who chose the spot,” he pointed out.

Elain was a trooper. She did not make any hissing noises or any sounds at all throughout the tattooing. The shading was the longest and most painful part, and even then, she remained composed and only winced a few times.

“I am sorry,” he murmured repeatedly, especially when a bit of blood seeped onto her skin.

“Prick your finger,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Prick your finger,”

“And?”

The soft doe-eyes blinked at him a few times, and she said, “I think you know what to do.”

So he did. He pricked his finger and mixed his blood with hers.

Nuala offered to tattoo ‘No Regerts’ on Azriel’s chest, if Elain so desired. She considered it, while Nuala explained that Azriel was now at their mercy and they could do whatever they wanted to him. At the end, he walked away with only a small tattoo over his heart.

It was about 8 am when Azriel and Elain left the garage. The sun was shining and there were no remnants of the previous storms. It was like it never happened. But it did happen. Everything happened.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, slinging his heavy, muscled arm around her shoulders. She’s been clutching at her side the whole time.

She shook her head no and looked at him. He smiled and then kissed her.

“I love you,” he murmured suddenly. Elain’s face broke into a loving smile and she reciprocated by kissing him back. “Let’s go home.”

#la dolce vita #elriel fanfic #elriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #elriel fanfiction #elain fanfic #my writing #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #sjm books #azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #elain

102 notes · View notes

lunarastrobabe · 3 years

Text

Leon Kennedy x F!Reader: The Missing Piece (Pt 2)

“Leon, come on, let’s go out. We haven’t spent time together in so long.” You groaned, holding his hand and trying to pull him from the couch where he was sitting, working on some reports from the previous outbreak you both had survived. Yet again.

“I have to get this report finished [Y/N], you know that.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling tired and drained, he had been cooped up in the apartment all week and he needed to get some sun.

“Come on baby, you gotta get out sometime.” You slumped into the spot next to him on the couch, slinging an arm around him. You planted a kiss to his soft scratchy cheek, which made a smile appear on his face. He closed his laptop and slid it off his lap and onto the oak coffee table, moving into a comfortable position.

“Okay, okay, fine,” He let out a chuckle and looked at you through his bangs that covered his beautiful eyes. You moved his hair out of his sight and they sparkled at you, feeling a wave of love hit you every time he looked at you. “Where is it you want to go?” He asked, sinking into your touch and leaving a kiss on the palm of your hand.

“I was thinking we could go get some coffee and then go for a walk on the beach. Considering how sunny and warm it is today.” You said, smiling at him as he pulled you closer, breathing in his natural scent and his minty breath.

“Sounds like a great idea, love,” He planted a kiss to your lips before tapping your legs to get up. “Let’s get going.” He got out of the crease that he left in the couch and grabbed his wallet and his keys, sliding on his shoes. He always looked so handsome even if he did look exhausted from not getting much sleep. Nevertheless, he always made time for you.

The car ride to the coffee shop was full of laughs, smiles and sneaky kisses at the red lights. Pulling up to the cafe getting a huge whiff of coffee, sweet pastries and the flowers that surrounded the building. Pushing the door open, letting the little bell go off at the top of the door, you went to go figure out your order, Leon definitely needed some serious caffeine.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom,” He said, kissing your cheek and giving you his wallet. “Order whatever you want, I’m paying.” He left with a smile on his face, flicking the hair from his eyes.

Just as you were about to order yours and Leon’s drinks, you noticed someone or something tap your shoulder. It wasn’t Leon, you shook off the thought that it could’ve been a zombie or a licker, remembering your past with Leon in Raccoon City. ‘You’re being stupid [Y/N]. Zombie’s don’t tap your shoulder like humans do. They eat you instead.’ You thought to yourself, giggling at the little comment in your head. Turning around you see a guy, he had dark hair that was spiked up with a ridiculous amount of wax, he was tall, handsome, very tanned from the sunshine and had hazel coloured eyes.

“Can I help you?” You asked kindly, wondering why a random stranger wanted to talk to you, but you thought, ‘maybe he’s just being polite’.

“Sorry, you’re [Y/N], right?” He said pointing to you, a smile on his face. You nodded in response, “Yes, that’s me. But, who are you?” You giggled nervously, noticing the awkward tension between you two was unbearable.

“It’s me, Derek, from high school remember? We used to cause chaos together with the professors.” Your mind had that light bulb moment, because of the suppressed memories from Raccoon City and the events leading after that that you had went through, you completely forgot about your crazy teen years and your old friends. This guy. Oh man, this guy was the ultimate popular jock, all the girls fell for him, honestly, you can’t even imagine how many girls he has slept with. He always seemed to love the attention he got from women, because of his good looks, his tanned skin from being in California for so long, the swimmers body. He was never your type, too predictable. Instead you were just close friends. Ish.

“Oh my god, hi! How are you?” You asked surprised and giving him a hug, a hug that lingered for too long, then pulling back to look at you.

“I’m-I’m great! It’s been a long time! You want to go sit down and catch up?” He gestured to an empty booth near the window.

“Sure! I just gotta wait for Leon to come back.” You said pointing over to the bathroom not realising Leon was standing behind you, watching you and your friend talk. From a distance he raised an eyebrow wondering who was chatting up his girl. Shoving his hand in his jean pockets walking over and snaking an arm around your waist pulling you close, a little tighter than usual, but you thought nothing of it. His eyes narrowed at the tanned man, a couple years older than you. Jealousy was already filling his body, burning sensation in his chest.

“Oh hey you,” You smiled looking up at Leon. “This is Derek, an old friend from high school.” You said introducing them to each other. You could tell they didn’t like each other already, the tension could be cut with a knife through butter. Leon wasn’t known for competing for a woman, but when it came to you, he gets protective, he gets jealous and it’s sometimes infuriating because when you get jealous about him and Ada’s past, he just brushes it under the rug.

“Hi sweetheart,” Leon planted a kiss on your lips then turned to your friend who was watching, trying not to laugh. “Hello. Derek.” He said gritting through his teeth in a fake smile. Derek just smiled, giving you his new phone number. “Call me sometime, it’ll be fun.” He winked and said goodbye to you, ignoring Leon as if he wasn’t there. You took the piece of paper sliding it into your back pocket. Leon looked pissed off, his shoulders raised. The waitress calling you over for your coffee’s, you noticed Leon looked uncomfortable, something was bothering him and you didn’t have a clue what the problem was. You just assumed it was his exhaustion catching up with him. Sighing you passed him his drink and took a sip of your own, the toffee flavour hitting your tongue giving you a sweet sensational feeling.

“Is everything ok Leon?” You asked, taking his hand in yours, his hand was clenched into a fist but relaxed it when you touched his skin, his shoulders lowering. Pulling him to an empty booth you sat down, crossing your legs over you turned your body to face his. He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, especially when it was something so petty.

“Mmhm.” He mumbled, his leg bouncing up and down, sipping his coffee but not looking at you.

“Leon, baby, what is it?” You leaned forward to see if he’d look at you. He exhaled slowly, letting out a deep breath.

“It’s him.” He said hoping you’d realise who he was talking about. Your brows furrowed in confusion. He rarely showed jealousy unless it was someone who he really had a huge problem with.

“Derek?” You leaned back in the booth, taking another sip of coffee with a surprise look on your face, peering at him over the coffee cup.

He shrugged, “Maybe ..” in a quiet tone, scratching the back of his neck, hoping you wouldn’t get mad. You cleared your throat, a little irritated, only because a year ago, you and Leon had split up for a while because Ada was still in the picture.

“Oh Leon, I-, seriously?” You groaned. “He’s just an old friend, nothing happened in the past with me and Derek, and even if it did, it’s old news.” Hoping to reassure him and calm him down. It didn’t work. Luckily no one could hear you two speaking due to the loud, but fun music from the speakers in the shop.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” He spoke quietly, swirling the coffee around with a little wooden stick. “I mean, that wink he gave you too?” He rolled his eyes. Now he knew how you felt with Ada and his history with her. You felt bad for him, you felt sympathy for him, he just wants to be loved, truly loved.

“Alright,” you sighed, you wanted to cut him some slack, he has been under a lot of stress and it’s not his fault he’s a little worried. “I can understand how it makes you feel, remember when I felt that way with you and Ada?” You reached your hand up to his face and softly stroked his stubbly cheek. Your touch always make him weak at the knees. His heart skipping a beat every time you touched him. “But I can promise you, I wasn’t even going to call him. Why would I want to regain a friendship with somebody who only wants to get into my panties?” You laughed a little.

“That’s how you met me isn’t it?” Letting out a small laugh with a smirk forming on his face.

“Mmkay, I see your point. But I fell in love with you, there’s a difference. And you’re always my number one.” Pushing his bangs out of his eyes. A pink, rosy, colour appeared on his cheeks.

“I love you too.” He put his large hand on your thigh and caressed the fabric of your jeans with his thumb, pulling you closer to his body and put his left arm around your shoulders.

“So, what kind of panties are you wearing today?” He whispered in your ear.

You were very lucky to have him.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #resident evil #re vendetta

159 notes · View notes

limitlessgojo · 3 years

Text

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 6)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Special Grade

Next Chapter: Bird of Flame

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

We are finally past the introductions and getting into the bulk of the story🥰💕 excited for this to unravel.

Chapter 6: Speed of Sound

You had a physical and cursed energy examination along with the second years the next day. Much like when you had your height and weight measured at the clinic. But this time, it was your power, speed, stamina, defense level, and flexibility with and without your cursed technique that they were measuring.

“Ugh, it’s so windy out today.” Mai complained. The sun was really bright as the four of you first years stood there.

“Y/n.” All of you turned to look at the source of the voice. You smiled brightly upon hearing him. “It has been a while.”

“Noritoshi senpaii~” you skipped your way towards him with a huge smile on your face. “How have you been?”

Noritoshi was always busy, with clan affairs, missions (now that he got recommended for grade 1 and is enroute to a semi-grade 1) and studies that you only had a short time to say hi whenever you passed by the other in the hallways. But he always secretly looked forward to seeing you.

He nodded his greeting to the other first years before turning to smile down at you as you came up to him. “Not too bad. Hope you’ve adjusted well to campus life?” he murmured, eyes softening.

“I’m okay, don't worry about me. Shared class today, this is my first time. I wonder how it will go?” You excitedly said.

“The usual, you might find it boring. Ah, and I’ve heard that you were given the title Special Grade. Congratulations.” He said.

“Is that something to be celebrated?” you asked while tilting your head to the side. “Thank you though.”

He mimicked you, tilting his head in the same direction and leaning forward so that your eyes were both still in line with each other’s, “It’s proof that you’re strong and that’s also a good thing.”

You hummed in thought. “I don’t really care about rankings to be honest. I just need to be strong enough to protect the ones I love.”

Noritoshi’s eyes slightly widened at that. He was about to speak when he was rudely interrupted.

“TSUCHI CHAN! You owe me a fight.” Todo senpai boomed with Momo sighing tiredly beside him. You jumped about 4 feet into the air at the sound and Noritoshi protectively held a hand in front of you again. “That’s enough Todo. It’s still early in the morning.”

“A fight, or else I will reveal who your ideal type is to everyone here.” He grinned.

Oh no he didn’t. The winds picked up around you as your cursed energy flared dangerously. Everyone except Noritoshi took a step back from you.

You looked up at him with the coldest eyes you have, “You promised you wouldn’t senpai. But I am not backing down from a fight. Don’t cry too badly when I bury you 6 feet underground.”

“There it is! Her dark side.” Miwa cried out. “You’re gonna die senpai.” But Todou just laughed. “I knew you were interesting the moment we met Tsuchi chan. It’s settled. A fight later after class.”

“Todo’s gonna die later. I look forward to seeing it.” Mai yawned nonchalantly as Mechamaru just nodded. Momo just laughed as she settled in beside Mai.

Soon Utahime called you all to attention and you went on with the activities. You were competing with Todo for almost every measurement (with the use of cursed energy of course. You were not so strong without it).

You just laughed at yourself as you found out you had the weakest physical punching power among the first years. Yep, you rely too much on your cursed energy to back you up.

You had the highest score though when you used your cursed energy. You warped the space around your hand in a spiral motion, the wind picking up around your fist, before you propelled yourself to punch the target. BAANG! It was pushed a number of meters back further than Todo’s target.

Todo just clapped. “Well done.” And the entire time, Noritoshi was closely monitoring you, staying by your side and asking questions about your technique.

At that, you tugged on his sleeve and he smiled and bent down for you. You told him quietly that you would tell him more about it later when you’re alone. His eyebrows raised, but his smile widened, “Thank you for that. I don’t mind telling you about mine too.”

The others were just silently watching you both out of the corner of their eyes.

“Mai chan, wanna bet as to when those two will get together?” Momo whispered. Everyone else except the two of you heard her.

“Depends on what you wanna bet on. But I’m willing to bet they’ll get together in the next maybe 4 months or so.” she smirked.

“3 months” Miwa piped up quietly.

“Maybe 2 months lol.” Mechamaru said.

“No. They might take… a few weeks. 3?” Todo said seriously.

Utahime cleared her throat out loud gathering all of your attention. “Last activity. Running laps. This track field is 400 meters long as you all know. Finish 1 lap. First without then with your cursed technique. Nishimiya and Tsuchimikado flying is permitted.”

You perked up at that and clapped your hands excitedly. Then stopped and thought about it remembering your father’s words:

“ ‘You don’t have to max out your abilities. We keep our clan’s abilities as much of a secret as possible to prevent any information leakage that may be used against us. Remember to use your technique wisely. You’re the strongest in our clan, sweetheart.’ You nodded, ‘Okay papa.’ ”

So God speed mode of a Mach 4 is out of the picture. Mach speed 3… maybe out. ‘No I can limit it to just under the speed of sound.’ you thought determinedly.

You zoned out the next hour until it was time to run with your cursed technique. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.” Noritoshi put a hand on your back to support you.

You quickly shook your head “I’m fine, no worries.” He didn’t look like he believed you but let you go ahead.

“Tsuchimikado. It says here on your report that you can move at mach speeds.” Utahime spoke. FUCK. Oh well. You turned to her with the stiffest smile on your face as she realized you didn’t want the information disclosed.

You took your starting position, still determined to keep it under half the speed of sound. “Ready… go!” You whipped around the entire trackfield in just under 3 seconds.

“Tsuchimikado. 2.4 seconds.” You nodded and jogged back beside Miwa who gave you a high five. “That was sooo cool, you need to let me fly with you next time.” She excitedly said.

You laughed. “I’m not the best at holding people with me when I move at high speeds. But slow flying is fine.”

“Why don’t you go faster?” Todo asked. Everyone quieted down as you turned to him. “I have a feeling you've been limiting your output. You’ve obviously been holding back this entire time, are you not taking it seriously? We are here to challenge ourselves, there is no need to hold back.”

Your eye and finger twitched. “That’s not it.” This man was amazing at pushing your buttons. But you sighed as there was no reason to hide it anymore. “Utahime sensei can I-”

“Go ahead. When you’re ready.”

You took your starting position again. You could push Mach 5 if you wanted to, though just above Mach 1 should be enough.

But you can feel Todo just silently egging you on from the sidelines. And it honestly worked. “Start!”

There was a loud BANG! You were back in the starting line in less than a second. The only proof of your movement was the smoke and dust rising above the tracks.

“I am so sorry, but I didn’t catch that. I physically can’t. That was less than a second. Your speed please?” Utahime called out. “Mach 2.”

You stepped right up to Todo with a challenging glint. “Prepare yourself for later.” He just huffed out a proud smile, then you stood aside with Miwa and Noritoshi.

“Was that, just now a sonic boom?” asked Noritoshi. “No it was my ringtone.” you deadpanned. The others choked a laugh out at that.

He turned to you with a pout, but you just bumped his hip with yours and laughed “It’s called sarcasm Noritoshi senpai~” He quietly chuckled along, which he was surprised at how easy it was to do so whenever he was with you.

You all finished up. Momo was also pretty fast, going at 10 seconds around the track. Noritoshi senpai blew you out of the water to be honest. His record was 35 seconds on foot. How. That was over the world record for men’s running.

You noticed a red marking forming over his eye and remembered seeing it for a bit when it came to the strength measurement test earlier. He was just a bit behind you, Mechamaru and Todo in terms of power.

And Mechamaru and Todo were largely… disproportionate to him, being way bigger and bulkier. But he could somehow manage.

“Are any of you going to spar after this? If so I will be supervising.” Utahime sensei called.

“We will.” Todo senpai motioned between the two of you. Noritoshi surprisingly spoke up too, “I also wanna have a go against y/n if that’s fine with you.” He turned to you with a concerned look. You just smiled, “Of course it’s fine Noritoshi senpai!”

“Okay, try not to break anything, limit the damage here on campus please. I will be calling a close if it gets too bad.” Utahime warned.

“There's no need for that.” You smiled to yourself.

Author's Rambles: Mach Speed (AKA Supersonic speed) is described as a speed greater than the speed of sound. Mach X means that the speed is X times greater than the speed of sound. A Mach 5 would be categorised as Hypersonic speed^^. O/C uses her Psychokinesis to move her forward as fast as she can.

Blood Bound Chapter Masterlist

44 notes · View notes

zedwards · 3 years

Text

MOVIE DATES WITH STRAY KIDS

stray kids x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: intended for male reader, but can be read as gender neutral; my first fic 👉👈 im nervous; lowercase aesthetic; does “bastard” count as a swear word..?

i hope you enjoy this little gift :)

bang chan

he likes romantic comedies

tbh being chan’s s/o would feel like a romcom of its own

since he doesn’t like crowds, your movie dates together usually wouldn’t involve actually going to the movies

instead you’d probably both opt to stay in for the night and watch a movie on the couch

under multiple blankets

in each other’s arms

hugs and cuddles

with the occasional kiss on the top of your head

it’s so soft

it’s chan :)))

he does the little claps at the end of the movie

because happy endings ^–^

y’know those awkward scenes where the main couple meets for the first time?

he likes to point out which character you were most similar to when the two of you first met

“i didn’t know you were in this movie!”

“you look so different! i could hardly recognize you!”

he’s such a dork

all your movie nights would end in one of three ways:

1.) you falling asleep in his arms

2.) him falling asleep holding you close (yeah not really, this man doesn’t sleep that much T_T)

or 3.) you both make it through the movie, and one of you says something like

“this is nice...i wish we could just stay like this”

and so you both (in theory) fall asleep right where you are

either way, chan is the best boyfriend and neither of you know what you did to deserve each other

lee know

he’d get you to go see a horror movie

even if you protest, he’d manage to convince you somehow

pokes fun at you every time you get scared

during a suspenseful part in the movie, he’d suddenly put his hands on your shoulders and shake you (lightly) out of nowhere, just to startle you

and he’d have to stifle his giggles because your reaction is just too priceless

absolutely relishes in how you never let go of his arm

like ever

seriously, his arm might as well be an extension of your body at this point

he may act like he’s annoyed

but he loves it

cuz he knows it’s because you feel safe with him

and if you hide your face in the crook of his neck

he’d get this look on his face...

something between an evil smirk and an amused grin

why? because his plan is working

plot twist: the whole reason he chose to see a horror movie with you was so that you would cling to him

surprise!! >:]

but even if you catch on, he’ll never admit it

tsundere

“did you even see any of the movie?”

you just kinda grumble in response, still latched onto his arm

“i can’t believe it... i so generously paid for your ticket, only for you to hide your face the whole ti- OW!”

you jab him in the side with your elbow give him a “love tap” :)

but it’ll take more than that to get him to stop teasing you about it

he’s a cocky bastard but you love him to death for it

seo changbin

superhero movie!!!

like something from the mcu

seeing him get so excited/invested in the movie??

wholesome

but he might get a little too excited

in other words, going to the movies with changbin is an...interactive experience

meaning that he talks at the movie

not to the movie, but at the movie

like...he talks at the characters on screen

as if they can hear him

honestly it’s kinda cute

but occasionally you have to remind him to keep his voice down

“HE TRIED TO TELL YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE STONE”

“shhhh alright calm down a bit-”

“...AND NOW YOU DEAD”

“changbin i love you but please don’t get us kicked out of the theater”

10/10 would have his arm around you throughout the movie

even if his arm goes numb, he’d refuse to let anything stop him

“changbin, you don’t have t-”

“CUDDLES.”

lowkey feels like a pillow

bc he beefy

on very rare occasions he might fall asleep during the movie

if he does end up dozing off and you catch him in the act, he’d deny it profusely

he likes to spontaneously slip his hand into yours :)

and lace your fingers together :))

you’re holding hands now :)))

his presence is just so warm and fuzzy and you make each other so happy

hwang hyunjin

THIS MAN

the funnest(?) most fun bf in existence

he’s definitely the type to try and smuggle outside food into the theater

he insists that he’s inconspicuous about it

and he tries to be

but he’s not :)

“uh... hyunjin, why are you wearing two hoodies?”

“i uh... i’m... cold?”

“so you’re sticking bags of microwaveable popcorn in between your sweatshirts...to keep warm?”

*visibly sweating* “i can explain...”

ok ok

so y’all seeing a comedy

why?

because HIS LAUGH OMG

it’s so bubbly and contagious

so naturally, you’d both be laughing up a storm at the back of the theater

and sometimes it’s because of the movie

but most of the time it’s because of the side comments the two of you keep making to each other

and it doesn’t help that he keeps making these ridiculous observations about the characters in the movie

“what’s up with that guy?”

“what about him?”

“why is he built like a refrigerator?”

about halfway through the movie, you both reach that delirious state where literally anything and everything becomes funny

even if it’s not supposed to be funny

...especially if it’s not supposed to be funny

the two of you? lowkey hyenas

long story short, you’re both asked to leave the theater not even two hours into the film :)

han jisung

action!! movie!!

finishes the popcorn within the first ten minutes of the film

that is, if he doesn’t scarf it all down during the previews

he talks through the entIRE THING

he’s always got something to say

it’s like watching the director’s commentary version of a movie

but instead of the director talking about the film-making process

it’s jisung muttering nonsense in your ear

sometimes pertaining to the movie

and other times...

“hey did i ever tell you about the time i saw a seagull eating garbage?”

...yeah, other times it’s...not

either way, you don’t mind

because you aren’t really paying much attention to the movie anyways

you’re too busy admiring your boyfriend

how could you not?

the way he’s on the edge of his seat, giving the movie his full attention...

the light from the screen flickering dimly on his face, highlighting his gentle features...

you’re the luckiest person in the world, no doubt

his eyes light up whenever something particularly cool/badass happens in the movie

but he also gets startled by the explosions every now and then

when that happens, you just look at each other for a moment

and then burst into a fit of giggles

“stoooppp!! it was loud, ok??”

you just hum in response and rest your head on his shoulder

y’know that thing he does where like...

he’s giggling, but he has something he wants to say, so he keeps trying to talk?

but his words keep getting cut off by his own laughter?

yeah... that’s what he’s doing

he’s adorable

lee felix

animated movie

a firm believer that you’re never too old to enjoy cartoons

he never lost that child-like energy/enthusiasm, which is part of what makes him such a gem

so of course, when the new disney movie came out, he knew he had to go see it with you

he would definitely load up on snacks from concessions

if you don’t stop him, he’s gonna be buying two giant things of popcorn and at least five different kinds of candy

and when he walks back to you after paying, he’d just smile brightly from behind the mountain of junk food in his hands like

“snacks :D!!!!!”

seriously though, try to keep track of how much popcorn he eats

bc he might overeat and get a stomachache :((

obviously he can take care of him self, cuz he’s an adult

but like

he loves when you look out for him

because he knows just how much you care about him

sunshine boy :((

y’all already know how much of a cuddle bug this man is

so of course that means lots of cute, affectionate gestures during the movie

skinship

holding hands

you resting your head on his shoulder

and him resting his head on top of your head

and most importantly SNUGGLES

snuggles are a must

for him, movie dates are just an excuse to be extra touchy with you

even though he never needs an excuse to get cuddles whenever he wants

because c’mon

it’s felix

what are you gonna do, say no?

kim seungmin

murder mystery film

tends not to talk all that much during movies

he’d just be so completely engrossed in the movie that he’d forget about his surroundings

but that’s not to say he won’t hold your hand or drape his arm over your shoulders

every now and then you can catch him leaning forward in his seat

with his mouth slightly ajar

it’s so endearing

but if for whatever reason you want to get his attention...

heh...

yeah, good luck with that

you’d have to maybe give his hand a lil squeeze to get his attention

and at first he’d just turn his head in your direction, keeping his eyes glued to the movie

but if you gave his hand another squeeze, he’d snap out of it

“psst...seungmin”

“mm.”

“hey, seungmin?”

“huh? yeah?”

“i love you”

if that doesn’t make his heart SWELL—

his dazed expression would quickly shift into one of pure elation and fondness

he might not respond verbally

but he’d gently bring your hand up to his lips

press a soft kiss atop your knuckles

and then lower your hand again without letting go, turning his attention back to the movie

but that bright smile of his would never falter for even a moment

he loves you too

so so much :)

yang jeongin

another one for romantic comedies

he likes it when there’s a little less “rom” and slightly more “com”

and so do you

because it means you get to hear his laugh more

oh god...

his laugh

the little giggles in between the short gasps for air...

so cute

“no. i’m not cute.”

he is very cute

probably won’t initiate any skinship

but if you do, he will absolutely go along with it

sometimes he’ll nod off in the middle of a movie

and then wake up during the credits, completely disoriented

“where am i”

“you fell asleep”

“huh??”

“you drooled a little on my shoulder, you goof”

unlike hyunjin, he’s really good at sneaking food into the theaters

like really really good

almost to the point that it’s scary

usually people try to sneak in popcorn or candy or maybe soda

well not jeongin

“hey, you want some?”

“what the- HOW DID YOU GET A BUCKET OF FRIED CHICKEN IN HERE”

“:]”

he’s not telling

like or reblog if you enjoyed ^^ feedback is always welcome and very much appreciated!

158 notes · View notes

joshuas · 3 years

Text

pick-up lines 101

♫ pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

♫ genre: college/university student!au, slice-of-life, crack (the entire concept), fluff

♫ word count: 10.4k

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ summary: A continuation on from the Chan drabble - an utterly ridiculous fic, where Felix and the reader (who unenthusiastically) go to literal extremes to break the two up, whilst falling for each other along the way.

♫ a/n: The second addition to my Christmas oneshots! Enjoy this high-key chaotic fic! I’m sorry that it’s 10k - I think I got a little carried away (╥﹏╥). This drabble is entirely fictional, please do not take any of Felix’s actions to heart (because he’s a sweetheart and we all know it).

♫ fyi: Reader 1 (Chan’s lover) is often referred to as “Mariah Carey/playlist lover” just to be gender neutral!

♫ skz christmas oneshots: 1|2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

“Let me get this straight... you want me to help break up Chan and... what’s their name- Mariah Carey lover, just so that Chan can give you pick-up lines again? Even though you’re the reason they started dating?” You leaned back against your chair, raising your eyebrows at the boy in front of you. “Well. Yes. And... Mariah Carey lover? You seriously don’t remember their name?” Your friend, Felix, raised his eyebrows. “All I care is that the person is now identifiable to me. Names are so arbitrary.” You dismissed nonchalantly. “Okay... but will you help me?” Felix turned to you with puppy dog eyes. “You know puppy dog eyes don’t work on me but whatever. I’ll help.” You got up, placing your books in your bag as Felix swiftly helped you clean up. “Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He draped his arm around your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing as the two of you exited the library. “Oh, I think I do...” You muttered as Felix excitedly explained his long-winded and elaborate plan to ‘save Chanlix’.

“C‘mon Chan hyung. It’ll be fun!” “I don’t know, Felix... wouldn’t Y/N be third-wheeling?” You observed the situation in front of you, casually eating your fairy floss as Felix looked to you for help in his mission to convince Chan to do a ‘how well do you know your partner?’ challenge at the local Christmas fair. “I don’t think Y/N really cares. Come on, hyung. If you’re not doing it for me, do it for the prize!” Felix pleaded with Chan. “The prize being... a book of ‘pick-up lines to keep your relationship fresh and interesting!’?” Chan raised his eyebrows at you.

You shrugged your shoulders, “He’s been your friend longer than mine.” “See! Y/N’s so unbothered. Please, hyung. I’ll do anything.” Felix pleaded. “...Alright. Let’s line up.” Chan reluctantly followed an excited Felix, as you trudged slowly after them.

The line was ridiculously long. Taking you half an hour to get to the front of the line, you were just about done with Felix’s antics. As Felix handed in the answers to the two questionnaires, Chan’s phone buzzed. Quickly typing a reply, his face lightened up as he waved someone over.

“Hey, Felix, I hope you don’t mind but I think I’ll partner with umm... my beloved on this one. And hey, Y/N’s here, so you can get that awesome prize with them!” Chan patted Felix on the back, his partner *cough cough* beloved approached him, pushing him lightly for being so “cringy”. Felix nodded, slightly devastated, forcing a smile as Chan and his partner walked past him, taking a seat with the other contestants. Mulling over his thoughts, Felix paced the floor as you watched more and more couples sign up for the contest. His features lightened, and as if struck by an amazing idea, he pulled you towards the sign up desk, “Do we really have to do this?” You groaned as Felix signed you up, determined. “Even though this wasn’t supposed to happen, I have just been presented with the perfect way to show Chan that I’m better than his significant other.” You looked at him confusedly, “How... are you going to do that, exactly?” “By winning.” He said, tone as if he were stating the obvious, “So, get your game face on, Y/N. We’re going to wipe the floor with them.” “Totally...”

The game was heated. You were utterly confused as to why people were so fiercely competitive to get a book of pick up lines. Don’t these people have anything better to do? “And now we have Bang Chan! Would you please come to the stage with your partner?” The MC’s voice rang out clearly across the stage, snapping you out of your reverie. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Felix lean forward, anxiously tapping his foot. “So, like all the other contestants have done, I’ll ask a couple of questions and we’ll see if your partner’s answers match with yours on the questionnaire. However, you can only win if both of you are able to answer as many questions about each other correctly.” The MC explained for the billionth time as Chan flashed an encouraging smile towards his partner. “Hey, Felix? Haven’t they been friends since childhood? How do you even expect us to have a chance?” You asked, doubtful. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I have a plan.” Felix reassured you, his eyes glued on the couple on stage. Oh, great. “First question! Ooh this is interesting. If Chan wasn’t studying music currently, what would he be doing?” Before anyone could answer, Felix yelled from his seat, “He’d be an actor or an athlete. He’d also be a kangaroo, if he could be... which I don’t really understand since they’re literally a pest species.” “Correct? Regardless of whoever answered, the points go to you guys.” The MC chuckled, slightly confused, as Chan and his partner tentatively high-fived each other. “Next question! What is Chan’s favourite season?” The MC looked pointedly at Mariah Carey playlist lover. As they opened their mouth to speak, Felix sighed loudly, “This is too easy. It’s Autumn, obviously.” You turned to Felix, embarrassed, as heads turned towards where the two of you were seated. “GeT rEaDy, Y/N. We’Re gOinG tO wiPe tHe fLoOr wiTh tHeM.” You mocked, imitating his earlier statement. “You do realise that if you keep answering the questions, they’ll end up winning. If I remember correctly, you wanted to beat them, not help them.” You hissed, annoyed at his impulsiveness. “Plans can be slightly altered. It’ll work out.” Felix shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. You pinched the bridge of your nose, Honestly, this boy only runs off two brain cells. To think of the lengths he’d go to just be told pick up lines from Chan. You’d think that he was fighting to the death for his beloved... “Haha... another point to the couple. Honestly, you guys won’t have to do anything to win at this point.” The MC pointed out awkwardly. “Let’s move onto the next question. This is easy. What is Chan’s favourite hobby?” The MC’s smile faltered as Felix stood up, everyone directing their attention towards him once again, “He loves to play sport!” You sunk low into your seat, pulling the hood of your hoodie over your head as you avoided the heavy gaze of the other contestants and other onlookers. Tugging Felix back to his seat, he slowly sat down as the MC looked at the two of you and Chan and his partner confusedly, “Ha... maybe the two of you should have partnered up.” He pointed to Chan and Felix who was adamantly glaring at the bewildered couple. “Right, so another point to the two of you. Let’s move on...” The game continued, Felix answering every single question as you cringed at his eagerness... until it came to Mariah Carey person’s turn. From then, he sat in stony silence, glaring at the couple as Chan answered every question correctly.

“Onto our next couple! Y/N and... Felix.” You sat down in the seat opposite Felix on the stage, mentally running through everything you know about him. “First question! Remember, it’s important that the both of you answer correctly, in order to win. What is Felix’s favourite colour?” You exhaled in relief, okay. These questions are kind of reasonable, “Black.” “Correct! Ooh, looks like Chan’s going to have to look out!” Your answer streak continued, with you answering the questions almost immediately. They weren’t too ridiculous (which you hadn’t expected, considering Felix). Eventually came Felix’s turn, “Alright, Felix. Let’s hope you know Y/N as well as you do Chan.” The audience chuckled at the MC’s comment as Felix flushed awkwardly (the boy was finally embarrassed istg). “Looks like the two of you were on the same wavelength! What is Y/N’s favourite colour?” An awkward silence filled the stage as Felix looked at you with utter panic. You shook your head in disappointment. Surely. Surely he kno— “Uhh turquoise?” Turquoise???? This boy. Honestly. “Incorrect! What a shame. Let’s move onto the next question.” As the game went on, awkward silences patterned with the MC’s new favourite response of ‘incorrect!’

“It’s a real shame that you and Chan weren’t partnered together.” The MC patted Felix’s back sympathetically as you headed back to the contestants whilst Chan and his partner collected their prize, Chan cracking the cheesiest of pickup lines on his very much embarrassed significant other, “You know, my shirt’s so soft. Do you know what material it’s made of? Boyfriend material.” “Oh my god, Chan, stoppp.” As the crowd dissipated, you stood, beckoning Felix to walk with you, “I thought you wanted to win.” You said dryly, as Felix turned to you, defensive, “How am I supposed to know the intimate and in-depth details of your life?” “Favourite colours are hardly intimate, and generally friends are supposed to listen to each other, and talk to each other about their interests?” You raised your eyebrows. He sighed in defeat, “You’re right. I’m sorry. How about we grab a hot chocolate and you can tell me all the answers to those questions.” He held out his hand to you. You looked at it questioningly, slowly taking it, interlocking your fingers with his, ignoring the fluttering of your heart, “I know you’re only doing this so that I can help you but I’m far too hungry to care about your motives.” “Of course not. It’s just also the perfect time to talk about our next course of action. Amongst talking about you, obviously.” “Sure...”

Impatiently tapping your foot as you waited in line to ‘confront Chan’, you turned to glare at Felix who was seated in his car just outside the cafe. Taking out your phone, you texted him, [10:38] Remind me again of what I have to do and why I’m doing this? [10:40] (Felix) You really don’t remember?? [10:40] to be fair, it’s an elaborate plan... [10:41] (Felix) fine. Basically you have to approach Chan hyung and give him a pick up line. Then I’ll walk in, and he’ll use it on me, and all order in the world will be restored. As to why you’re doing this... you’re doing it because you looooooooove me 😌 [10:42] More like haaaaaate but whatever. wouldn’t it seem like I was hitting on him?? [10:43] (Felix) 😭 😭 you wound me with your words, y/n. We all know that I’m your favourite person and you’d do anything for me. It should be fine. [10:44] I could leave this cafe and never talk to you again [10:45] (Felix) No!! Y/N pleaseeeee do this for me. I’ll ✨ love ✨ you forever ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Ignoring the skip of your heart at his text, you rolled your eyes, Get a grip, Y/N. This guy clearly only has eyes for a certain pick-up lines guy. [10:46] nobody wants that. I’ll do it because I’m a good person. Please revoke your hearts. [10:47] (Felix) Neverrrrr ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ [10:47] (Felix) oh! You’re up in line!! Go! You got this!! Steeling yourself, you smiled as you approached the counter Chan was working at, “Hey, Y/N! How are you?” Chan greeted you cheerfully, dimples on full display. Ahh too bright. My eyes— his smile’s too charming. I kind of understand why the whole playlist thing went well. “Heyyy Chan! I’m good. How do you brew?” You laughed awkwardly, internally cringing. “Oh, I’m brewing good too. Can I get you anything?” He grinned at your pun. “Uh— just a latte for me, thanks.” You panicked, stating the first thing you saw on the menu. “One latte coming right up. So, how’s Felix? I haven’t seen him since the festival. I know he really wanted that pick up line book.” He looked at you, his eyes slightly guilty as he started the espresso machine. You could say that... “Yeah, he’s been taking it... pretty hard. How have you been finding the book?” You asked. “The book’s pretty cool, actually. I’ve come across some pretty great pick up lines. Oh! There’s this one where—“ You cut him off as he poured in two teaspoons of sugar, regurgitating the pick up line Felix had forced you to practice repeatedly in the car beforehand. “I have a better one- hold the sugar, please. You’re sweet enough for me.” Ughhhhhh. Ugh. That was— ugh. I should start apologising. Chan’s eyes widened, his expression similar to a deer caught in headlights, “I— Wow! You’re just full of creativity, Y/N. Look at you, two pick up lines in one morning. I’m going to have to use them on my partner, now.” He laughed awkwardly. “No!” You interjected. “No?” You took a deep breath, “You can only use them on your best friend.” “Is this like one of those ‘repost this chain or you’ll die in 13 days or something like that’ things but in real life?” Chan questioned, confused. You turned around, not-so-subtly beckoning Felix to come into the cafe. “Haha... what??? Oh and just to be clear, I wasn’t hitting on you, so can you please continue putting in the sugar?” “I know. It’s pretty obvious that you have feelings for— Oh hey Felix! I— oof!” He stumbled backwards from the impact of someone— oh it’s his playlist lover, wrapping him into a hug. “Hey. What’s up?” He released them, looking at them concerned. “Nothing. I just missed you today.” “Oh that reminds me. Y/N told me these epic pick up lines. I have to use them on you...” I mean. They are best friends... You looked apologetically at Felix who stood, his jaw clenched, passively fuming as he observed the couple from the door, “Felix, I’m really sorry that your plan failed again.” You patted his back sympathetically. “It’s fine... we just have to come up with something more attention grabbing!” He nodded resolutely, leading you out of the cafe. “Wait— I left my coffee!” “There’s no time to lose, Y/N. I’ve already come up with our next plan.” Oh no.

The next phase of the plan was... extravagant to say the least. Felix hadn’t told you much but seeing the long to-do list he had written out... it was a bit much. Approaching the art department, you knocked on the door of the workshop whilst Felix strode confidently past you. Upon hearing the knock and Felix’s footsteps, a brown-haired boy looked up from what looked like it was supposed to be a sculpture but was really just a blob of clay, “Minho hyung... my man! My bro! What’s up?” Felix clapped the boy’s shoulder. You shook your head in disgust, Why is he so cringy? The boy - Minho, narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “What do you want, Felix?” “Why do people always assume that I want anything? What if I just wanted to hang out with my dearest friends without any motives except for showing my appreciation for you guys being in my life?” Felix raised his hands in surrender defensively. “Hell would have to freeze over for that to happen.” You hummed, Minho snorting at your comment as Felix clutched his chest in mock offence. “Well, as you can see, no one buys your sentiment, so tell me what you want.” Minho sighed. “You both wound me with your verbal warfare, but... I actually need a favour.” Felix stated tentatively. “A favour?” Minho raised an eyebrow. “I need you to make me a life sized present.” He said seriously. Do you ever look at someone and wonder what on earth is going on in their head? Yeah, there’s no point on doing that for Felix. Nothing can explain what goes on in there. “I need to what? Why?” Minho looked at Felix, incredulous. “That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know. Look, all I need you to do is find a human-sized box and decorate it with wrapping paper and whatnot. Just make it look like a present.” Felix explained, slightly impatient. “...why me?” Minho asked, reluctant. “You’re an art major, right? This’ll be in your ballpark. I give you full creative liberty. Just make it look as pretty and realistic as possible.” Felix clapped Minho’s back, waving as he exited the workshop. You gave Minho an apologetic glance before chasing after Felix. “...but I’m an accounting major.” Minho sighed, defeated.

“Y/N, Minho hyung just dropped off the present! Come look at it!” Felix called from the foyer. The two of you were currently “house sitting” Chan’s apartment. Technically Chan didn’t ask you guys to, since he was only going away for a day. However, Felix insisted on it, using the excuse of ‘watering Chan’s plants’ to execute his plan. Chan doesn’t have any plants. Ignoring Felix’s poor attempt at a cover, Chan let Felix do whatever but gave clear instructions to not break or burn anything. Wandering over to Felix, you gaped at the... present in front of you. On the floor, in front of you, was literally just a human-sized cardboard box (that was falling apart, the clear sticky tape holding the corners together by a thread) with random Christmas wrapping adorning the sides of it, alongside a lid (with breathing holes) and a bow on top. Minho must be a modern art student or something, because this is... interesting to say the very least (no offence to modern art students/artists - love y’all). “It’s so beautiful!” Felix fussed over it, his eyes sparkling with excitement and awe. Of course Felix would like it. I guess art truly is in the eye of the beholder. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re going to do with that?” You crossed your arms over your chest staring pointedly at the box. “I’m going to hide in this present until Chan hyung comes back from his hometown tomorrow morning at nine on the dot. Chan hyung will see this mysterious package in the living room and his curiosity will force him to open it, revealing me! I’ll give him a pick-up line, he’ll laugh and we’ll both live happily ever after.” “Not to rain on your Disney princess movie parade but I don’t think you’ve thought any of the logistics through. How are you—“ “Y/N, stop. Let a professional work their work. Don’t worry, I’ve figured everything out.” He waved his hand dismissively, picking up the box and beckoning you to grab the other side. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you need help. Or food.” You warned.

“Just sit still! Stop moving! Otherwise I’ll duct tape your hands together.” You waved the duct tape roll threateningly as Felix fidgeted in the box. On the way to the living room, the box had decided to collapse in on itself as you had expected. Felix, being Felix, was distraught, causing you to be here now fixing the box up with duct tape as Felix sniffed sadly at its unfortunate demise. “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t! How would I be able to eat?” He surrendered, eyes wide. “That’s for you to figure out and for me not to care about. Lucky for you, I’m not that cruel.” You stuck the last piece of tape on the box, dusting your knees as you stood, helping Felix move closer to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. “Okay, so this is where I leave you.” “You’re leaving already??” Felix pouted, your heartbeat quickening, He really wants to hang out with me? No... He’s probably just worried he’ll be bored. “It wasn’t really at the top of my Christmas wish list to spend Christmas Eve with a man stuck in a life sized present waiting for his friend to come home so that he can give him a pick-up line. I also wouldn’t dare ruin your future moment with Chan. You have your phone, right? Call me if you need me.” You sighed, grabbing your keys as you stuck the lid on Felix, he let out a muffled “bye” as you left the apartment.

“Y/N? Can you pick me up? I’m scared.”

“Y/NNNN I’m bored. Come over.” “Tell me what you think of this pick-up line...” Swiftly deleting the 40 voicemails Felix had left you overnight, you rolled your eyes, a small (but uncontrollable) smile forming on your face at his dramatics. Okay, you were kind of fond of Felix’s theatrics. Not that it matters, though. You sighed, rolling out of bed. It was a bit tiring - having to foster feelings towards someone that doesn’t feel the same way. Just be a good friend, Y/N. That’s all that matters right now. Your phone buzzed, the caller ID showing Felix. You sighed, picking up the phone, “He—“ “Y/N? You need to come. Like now.” Felix whispered hurriedly. “Why?” You raised your eyebrows at his urgency. “Why? Chan hyung was two hours late. He came back at 11 instead of nine. And guess who he came home with?” “Playlist lover.” You answered instantly, getting ready to pick him up. “Exactly. And y’know what they’ve been doing for the past hour and a bit? Making gingerbread and being a ridiculous, annoyingly cute couple. So now I’m hungry and... I really need to go to the bathroom.” He whined. “Can I just say that you really did not figure out the logistics in this plan.” You pointed out. “Logistics don’t matter when it comes to friendship!” He whispered dramatically. “Whatever. Look, I have a plan. You just need to trust me on this one.” You said, pulling a ‘disguise’ out of your closet. “Somehow that doesn’t give me comfort because normally I’m the one who makes the plans in this relationship.” “And look at how that turned out for you. I’ll see you in a bit!” You hung up on him, grabbing your car keys and heading out.

Dressed in the daggiest of outfits (lots and lots of flannel and a low cap), you knocked on the door to Chan’s apartment, revealing a floury Bang Chan and his even more floury significant other, “Y/N, is that you?” “Huh—“ you cleared your throat, deepening your voice, “uh, no. I’m their cousin. Hence, the resemblance.” “Okay... how can I help you, then?” He asked, his tone uncertain. “Oh. Well. I was hoping that I could inspect the place. I’m... your new landlord!” You exclaimed, recalling the notice you had seen around the complex. “Oh? Of course! The notices did say that you were coming for inspections.” He ushered you in, showing you through to the living room. Your eyes landed on the ‘present’ in the corner of the room. I need to get them out of here somehow. “Oh! I think I can smell something burning. You might want to check that out. Could you also point me towards the bathroom?” You asked innocently. “Ah! Of course. It’s the first room to the right in the hallway.” He gestured towards the hall as he and his partner ran to the kitchen. Rushing over to Felix, you grunted, dragging the box as quickly as you can into a room that resembled a studio. Grabbing out a pocket knife, you tore through the duct tape, lifting the lid as Felix scrambled out of the box and to the bathroom, shooting you a relieved smile. This boy. Honestly, why does he do this to himself? Hearing footsteps approaching, you panicked, hopping into the box, closing the lid on you. “Why are you in the box?” Felix approached, drying his hands hurriedly. “I thought you were Chan...” You awkwardly stepped out. “It doesn’t matter anymore! Let’s go!” He whispered hurriedly, heading towards the door as you pulled him back. “Well... you can’t come out the front with me...” you scanned the room, your eyes locking on the window in front of you. Felix followed your gaze, terror filling his eyes, “Y/N! I can’t do that! It’s so high!” He clung to you as you pushed him towards the window. “We’re literally on the ground floor. The height difference between this window and the ground is probably at half your height at most.” You flicked his hands off you, as he slowly sat on the ledge of the window as you opened the window, the cold air greeting you. “No! Y/N, I can’t do it. It’s too—“ His protesting cut off as you lightly pushed him, causing him to stumble off the ledge, tripping and falling to the ground as he landed on the thick snow outside the complex. Instantly, he lay down, yelling incoherent dramatics. Holding back your laughter, you chucked the present box next to him and shut the window, “Merry Christmas!” You re-emerged from the hallway. Somehow Chan and his Mariah Carey playlist lover were looking worse — icing adorned and everything. Oh my gosh. They’re that cliche fanfic couple that make a huge mess when cooking together. How disgusting. “Thank you for allowing me to use your bathroom. I’ll be heading out now.” “Really? What about the inspection?” Chan questioned, eyes wide. “Oh everything’s fine. Okay, bye!” You started towards the front door as Chan blocked your exit. “Wait! We just wanted to give you these gingerbread cookies. You basically saved them and we felt bad that you had to work on Christmas.” He handed the cookies to you, his tone pitiful. “Oh. Well if you insist, who am I to refuse?” You waved at them as you left the complex just as someone dressed in basically the same outfit as you approached their door, “Excuse me! Mr Bang Chan? I’m your new landlord. I came for an inspection?” They yelled, as your eyes widened in horror, bolting as fast as you could out of the complex. “I like your outfit, by the way!” They yelled after you. You caught up to Felix as he waited outside your car. “Now do you have faith in my plans?” You crossed your arms over your chest, still slightly out of breath. You thought back to the narrow escape you had with the actual landlord, Gosh, literally the first time someone compliments me for my fashion sense, it’s when I’m trying to dress up like them unintentionally. “If I say yes, will you give me a cookie?” “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, hey Y/N and Felix. Thanks for taking care of my house whilst we were away. I’m glad to see that nothing broke or burnt.” Chan brought Felix into a bro hug thing as you handed his partner a basket of gingerbread cookies, entering the Christmas-themed household. “It’s not like you weren’t about to burn the house down by yourselves.” You muttered. “Hm?” Chan looked at you expectantly. “Oh! I said... I didn’t burn the gingerbread.” You pointed at the basket of gingerbread. “You know! That’s so funny. We nearly burnt down the house a couple of days ago with our Christmas cookies.” Chan and his partner laughed nervously. “We know.” Felix blurted out. You elbowed Felix, panicked. “I see you still have your decorations up.” You said quickly changing the topic, taking in the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and the tinsel adorned shelves. “Yeah, well we wanted to have a Christmas party but both of us went home on Christmas and it’s not illegal to have Christmas decorations up two days after Christmas.” Chan explained, handing you both mugs of eggnog. “Actually, it is. But I’ll put up with your offence.” You smirked, sipping at your eggnog. “Thank you for your everlasting generosity, Y/N. Now, you two should go and enjoy the party.” Chan clapped your backs, pushing you and Felix into the party scene. “So... what’s the plan?” You turned to Felix who was observing the couple. “Honestly, Y/N, this is my last shot.” He sighed, exhausted. “Okay... and what are you going to do?” You looked at him, concerned at his sudden dampen in mood. “I’m going to give him a pick up line.” He said triumphantly. “Um. Haven’t you been trying to do that the entire time?” You questioned, confused. “And this is the last time I’m trying that. I’m going to give him one so that he’ll be left with no choice but to fall on his knees, weeping huge tears of regret as he struggles to give me one that matches it’s sheer brilliance.” He explained (dramatically). “Sure. Come find me when you’ve had the happily ever after we’ve all been waiting for.” You shot him a quick smile before moving off to talk to playlist lover.

Soft jazz versions of classic Christmas songs played as people departed from the party.

Walking over to the hallway, you stopped, looking at a dejected Felix leaning against the wall.

“How did it go?” You said, tentatively approaching him.

“What can I say? He’s in love.” He sighed defeatedly.

“Let me guess, he used it on playlist lover?” You asked bluntly.

He nodded dejectedly.

You sighed, steeling yourself, glancing up at the mistletoe between the two of you,

It’s now or never, Y/N.

“I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.”

A shocked silence fell over the two of you as you stumbled to recover your dignity.

“I—“

“Say that again.”

“Huh?”

“The pick up line. Say it again.”

“...I must be a snowflake. Because I’ve fallen for you.” You muttered.

“That... do you mean that?”

“Well. Yes. In a sense because I’m not a snowflake. That’s just weird. Why did I say that? I also don’t think anyone that only liked you as a friend would go to such lengths to help salvage a friendship you don’t really need to salvage. Look, obviously the dynamic between you and Chan has changed since he got a girlfriend. But hey, if you feel the same way, I could be the Chan to your Felix. In a romantic manner, obviously... perhaps as your partner?” You looked nervously at the ground.

“You really like me? After everything I put you through?” He asked, incredulous.

“Although it was extremely ridiculous, it was entertaining... and we got to spend time together.” You quietened your voice for the last part.

“Well, we must both be snowflakes because I’ve fallen for you too.” He lifted your chin, eyes interlocked with yours.

“That was really cheesy.” You murmured.

“Hey, you’re the one that used it on me first.” Felix defended.

“Mmk. Well. For this to work you need to—“ He interrupted you, capturing your lips with his briefly.

“Did that make up for it?” He stepped back, breathless.

“Th-that was cheesy too.” You stuttered, shocked.

“Well, our relationship hasn’t exactly been cliche until now.”

“Ah yes, kissing under the mistletoe. It’s almost like the ending of a Christmas classic movie.” You sighed.

“Almost?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“Minus the pick up lines.”

“Yeah, well you’re roped into this now. You’ve given me the expectation that you’ll give me a pick up line every time you see me.” He smirked.

“No. I refuse.” You grabbed your bag, waving at Chan and his partner as you exited his apartment, Felix on your heels.

“Three a day?”

“One.”

➳ part three? | masterlist!

130 notes · View notes

heyitsdoe · 3 years

Text

Dearly Devoted | Charlotte Katakuri x OC Chapter 3

Words: 8.9k

<- Chapter 2

A loud knocking at the door awakened the giant Princess, who'd only managed fits of restless sleep throughout the night. Nerves prevented any sort of valuable rest, producing cloudy visions of scenarios of what the day might bring. None of them were particularly positive. Groggy eyes blinked away the light that filtered in through the bedroom window now that morning had arrived. Why did it have to be so bright so early?

"Princess! We must begin getting you ready for the ceremony!" A female voice exclaimed from the hallway outside, knocking a few more times for good measure, as if her banging up to this point hadn't already roused Yuna from sleep. "There is no time to waste in bed!"

Right. The wedding day. Yuna had been hoping for a less startling beginning to the morning, but she supposed none of this was going as expected. Smoothing out the worst of her seafoam-green bedhead and pulling her sluggish limbs from underneath the covers, Yuna swung them out and stood on the soft carpet, walking over to the door and mentally preparing herself for whatever bombardment she was about to be subject to. Her experience with the seamstresses the night before left little doubt that a plethora of people were waiting in the wings to swoop in and overwhelm her with whatever they were here for.

To her shock, the door opened to welcome a lone woman-very short even by average standards and a set of extra arms below the first pair. The tiny blonde-haired woman looked up, holding oversized towels and several products for the bath with incredible ease. She gave a wide smile, holding up the items in her hands a bit. "Good morning, Princess! How did you sleep?"

"Truthfully, not very-"

"Well, a nice hot bath should wake you up!" The woman chirped with glee, stepping past Yuna to enter the bedroom with her things. "We mustn't take long, many preparations are underway for your wedding today. We don't want to be late!"

Yuna gave a tired sigh, both from exhaustion and the growing realization that 80% of her sentences so far had been interrupted before she could finish them. How frustrating. Not to mention, a bath would simply drain her energy further given her devil fruit ability. "Alright."

Following after the tiny attendant, who lead her into the guest room's connected bathroom, Yuna watched as she set the items on the counter and went to draw the shallow bath built into the floor. The water was hot and steaming even as it came out of the spout, the water rising much quicker than she would have expected.

The small woman began sectioning out the products she'd brought with her as she waited for the bath to fill, before looking up at the much taller woman curiously.

"You will need to...undress for the bath, Princess."

"Right." She muttered with a blink, realizing that she was supposed to actually be doing something instead of just standing there like a child. Her fingers went to fiddle with the edge of her nightgown sleeves. "I'm sorry, my mind is elsewhere."

"That is why I am here. To make sure we don't fall behind schedule." The woman said with a happy smile, clasping her two sets of hands together. Then, she looked up at Yuna seriously, taking her addled thoughts as nervousness. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. "And don't worry. The seamstresses already let us know about the bandages. We've been instructed not to ask or comment on them while we prepare you for the wedding. It isn't our intention to make you uncomfortable, so please don't be nervous about such a thing."

The Princess' face grew hot, fingers clenching. She stared down at the woman's face, seeing no trace of judgement or disgust. The seamstresses had broken one of the two promises they'd sworn to, but Yuna could see that it was done out of concern for her own comfort rather than in the sake of gossip. At least, she hoped that was their only reasoning for it.

"Who is 'we,' exactly?"

"Just those will be preparing you for the wedding. Your secret is safe with us!"

"Thank you." Yuna whispered, unsure what else to say. Her emotions were a mixed bag of being touched by the sentiment and mortified that so many unknown people were aware of what was hidden underneath her gown without her consent.

The tiny woman's smile returned in full, bright as a shining sun. "Of course!"

Yuna slowly lifted the nightgown over her head, depositing the garment in the basket beside the bath. By this time, the bath was filled. Her attendant quickly turned off the water and gestured to the products now lined along the bath's edge. "There are scented oils you may use to your liking, other lotions and such, but please don't take long. The hairdressers and make up artists will arrive in half an hour to start getting you ready."

"Ok."

"Would you like assistance with the bandages?" She offered, but Yuna shook her head.

"I'll manage by myself. And...could you please see about getting me fresh ones?"

Happy to be of service, she nodded. "Right away!" With a spring in her step, the woman turned in place and left the bathing room. Yuna swallowed back her nerves, knowing she didn't have a lot of time to dawdle, and began peeling away at the white cloth secured around her body.

With practiced ease, the yards of bandages fell away to the ground, some portions smudged with dried blood. Her skin grew chilled when exposed to the open air. The pile on the floor grew, until the last coil slipped from her wrist. She looked around for a trash can, and picked up her discarded rags. Pushing it as far down into the can as possible, she hoped that the cleaning staff wouldn't ask any uncomfortable questions later down the line.

Yuna eased into the prepared bath with a sigh. The heated water felt glorious on her skin. The accompanying fatigue from being submerged was nearly ignorable from how good the temperature felt. What's more, she didn't have to worry too much about drowning in the bath, as the shallow depth and smaller width prevented her from unintentionally slipping underneath the water.

It was a small time of respite from what was sure to be a hectic day. The calm before the storm. Yuna relished every second she could in peace and solitude. Once her attendants began getting her ready, she highly doubted there would be a moment of quiet until later that night. And at that point, she would be expected to accompany Katakuri to his home...wherever that may be. He was supposedly a minister of one of the islands, but did he live in the castle?

A sudden terrifying thought made her still as she worked the lid off of one of the scented oils. Did Totto Land expect consummation of marriage on the wedding night? Seiiki Kingdom did not practice such an archaic tradition, and Big Mom didn't seem like the type to care about such a thing. Totto Land as a whole was very eccentric and informal, generally. But one never knew.

She knew nothing of Katakuri, and based off of his behavior when they'd first met, she highly doubted he would be willing to spend much time bonding at any point during the ceremony today. She'd be sharing a bed with a complete stranger, and perhaps expected to engage in such an intimate activity with him. Such a thing would require her to remove her clothing and display the bandages. Or underneath even those...

Yuna shook the thought from her mind, telling herself that she could confront that terrifying situation if it came to be. But for now, she could do nothing but soak in the lovely bathwater and dread the events that were to come.

Her limbs felt heavy and all of the energy was drained from her body. If she wasn't careful, she would fall back asleep just soaking in the water, but the overhanging time limit kept her alert and awake enough to see the rest of her bath through. Her attendant returned not long after with a small first aid kit gripped in one of her four hands.

"I wasn't able to get this without a nurse seeing me, so if anyone asks, you accidentally got pricked by the seamstresses' needles!" She explained with a wink and a grin, setting the box on the bathroom counter further away. Yuna nodded her understanding. "There's only a few minutes left for you to bathe, I'm afraid. We don't want to run behind schedule."

"I understand."

"Would you like me to leave while you dry off and apply the bandages again?" The woman offered, and Yuna paused before responding with a long sigh.

"No need to make a complicated process out of this, I suppose. You already know about them. What difference would it make if you see underneath?" The Princess decided with reluctance, wondering if she would regret this decision later on. But in the essence of time and simplicity, she could bear this temporary discomfort. "Besides, we don't have much time as you said. Having help will get it done faster."

"As you wish."

Yuna realized that she hadn't even bothered to ask this woman's name, and felt incredibly rude for it. She had been so kind, and part of her thought that this whole thing would feel less uncomfortable if she actually knew who she was.

"What is your name?"

The blonde's brows shot up, not having expected the question. "Oh! I am Minette. I should have introduced myself earlier, but I wasn't sure it mattered."

She nodded, committing it to her memory. "Well, Minette. I'm sorry in advance for what you'll see."

With that, Yuna rose from the bath and grabbed one of the towels that lay waiting on the edge, wrapping herself with it as best she could. Her arms and legs were still left bare, and Yuna was impressed with Minette's ability to not stare in a way that made her cower in on herself. Her patient smile never slipped, and her eyes gave no indication that she was disturbed by the sight of her naked body.

It did a lot to ease her nervousness.

Yuna was dried, rewrapped in bandages, and sat in the chair before the vanity in record time. Minette had made the bandaging process much quicker given her extra sets of hands, but Yuna's nerves were on edge the entire time, unused to having someone help her do that part of her routine. So far, so good, though.

The two women in charge of doing her hair, and the two in charge of her make up all arrived at the same time minutes later, fretting about the guest room as they prepared to make her beautiful for the day. Minette was still present, waiting for instruction and smiling happily from a nearby chair as she watched the two hairdressers begin taming her seafoam-colored locks.

"What is Seiiki like?" The tiny woman suddenly questioned, her four arms settling on her lap as she sat in her own chair further away. "I've heard people call it a sanctuary."

"It is. We help escaped slaves lead a new life after their captivity." Yuna explained, wincing as one of the women pulled just a little too hard on the comb through her hair. "My father has always tried to make it as peaceful and prosperous a place as he possibly could."

"Well, any good leader tries to do that, darling." One of the hairdressers said with a chuckle. "That doesn't make it very unique, I'm afraid."

"Of course." Yuna conceded the point. "We simply keep our citizens pasts in mind, and try our best to make sure we are always considerate of that when passing policy and laws. He is no tyrant king, is what I mean to say.

"The people are kind and caring, and many seek artistry as a means of expression. Seiiki is filled with many talented artists and musicians, and we frequently have concerts or plays performed in the Royal Theatre. There are festivals when the trees turn a beautiful orange and red in autumn. It's lively and good fun."

"It sounds like a wonderful place." Minette chimed in, smile never fading. "A paradise just like Totto Land... I didn't know such a country existed."

Yuna tried to explain that Totto Land and Seiiki were entirely different places, but the two make-up artists sitting in wait for her hair to be finished both laughed between themselves before she could get a word out.

"No place is like Totto Land, silly Minette!"

"And even if there was, everyone knows better than to leave."

The women all laughed together, perhaps some hilarious joke that Yuna didn't know the context to. Yuna was forced to sit still, her hair being yanked in all sorts of directions as it was combed and treated with more hair products from their little bag. They certainly weren't gentle, but at the very least skilled.

Makeup was next once her hair had been teased into beautiful, wavy curls that framed her face. Yuna's face was attacked by their various creams and powders, brushes swiping across her skin with practiced ease. The Princess was more or less forced to keep her eyes closed during this portion of her makeover, not wanting to get anything in them. The scent of the powders nearly made her sneeze.

Their constant bickering didn't help dampen her nerves of coming out of this looking like a clown.

"A natural look is what we want."

"Natural? This is a wedding day! Bold and dazzling is what we want!"

"No, no...red is too harsh for her skin tone. And her hair! It sticks out to much."

"Well, we don't want her looking washed out! Everything is pastel this, and pastel that. We want some color, my darling."

"A darker brow will set this bring this whole look together."

"We want a roasted chestnut color, not a charcoal black! Step aside, I'll do her brows myself."

Yuna decided that butting in with her own preferences or opinion would do nothing but upset both artists, and elected to stay silent in her chair. With luck, their two drastic styles would meet somewhere in the middle and look alright. Surely Big Mom wouldn't allow her to look ridiculous walking down the aisle. Right?

Finally, after what felt like ages, her face was left alone and she felt the space occupied by the two make up artists in front of her become vacant. They'd stepped back, and one of them gave a quiet chuckle.

"Open your eyes, my dear."

Tentatively, Yuna cracked one eye open, then the other, and gazed upon her reflection in the vanity's mirror. She blinked, impressed with their skill and how everything had come together. Her brown eyes were accentuated with dark lashes and a swipe of green eyeshadow. Full lips were colored a subtle red, not too striking to draw attention from her face, but not too light as to blend in. It was a little more than Yuna typically applied on herself, though for a special occasion as mentioned, she supposed it made sense to do so.

"It looks wonderful." Yuna complimented, tilting her head back and forth to see her face from all angles.

"Well of course, it does. We aren't amateurs." The second artist gave an eye roll, as if such a suggestion was absurd.

"I'm sure Katakuri-sama won't be able to take his eyes off of you!" Minette chipped in from her own chair, a dreamy smile brightening her expression.

Yuna had her doubts, but felt it would be cruel to dampen the mood, if only for the other womens' sakes. She returned Minette's smile with a small one of her own. "You may be right."

Several harsh knocks once again banged on the door, and the familiar team of seamstresses burst through without waiting for entry.

"The bride must dress!" The head seamstress announced. "Please leave the rest to us."

With nods, the hairdressers and makeup artists packed up their things and left in a hurry, more than happy to allow the seamstresses to finish up getting the bride prepared. Yuna was ushered out of the chair and made to stand on the platform from the night before.

The room was abuzz with women once more, though four of them were already taking her finished gown off the mannequin and dragging it closer to her. Yuna's eyes didn't know where to settle, and so were constantly tracking different people, before settling on the head seamstress who approached her with a serious expression.

"Will the bandages remain?" She gestured to Yuna's body with curiosity.

Her fingers clenched. "Y-yes. They will."

"I see. Adjustments will be made." Was her only reply, before turning and helping the four women gather her gown together.

Yuna felt leagues better once the fabric covered her bandage-wrapped skin. Having her secret exposed for others to see was a never-ending anxiety in the back of her mind. It was necessary to get through the wedding process, but it didn't mean she had to like it.

The Princess stood straight as they laced the back of the gown up, all the way to the back of her neck. Custom fit to her body, the whole thing fit snugly and comfortably. The others fluffed out the dress so that it was on full display to make sure nothing had come apart from the night before. As if Yuna would have tampered with it in any way.

Her eyes closed, letting them do their work and taking a deep breath to steady her beating heart. With the full ensemble together, reality was catching up to her at a breakneck speed. This was her wedding. Her special day. Well, it was supposed to be. It didn't all that special at the moment.

An itch began to build just behind her nose, but she held back the desire to cry. So much work had been done on her appearance, she didn't want to ruin all of the work that had been put into it. And she had a feeling everyone would be able to tell that she'd been crying, no matter how hard she might try to hide the fact.

"You look so beautiful, Princess..." Minette's reassuring and quiet praise made Yuna open her eyes. The small attendant stood to the side in front of her, her hands clasped together with evident tears in her eyes. Her smile was dazzling. "I've never seen a bride so enchanting."

"How many weddings have you assisted with?" Yuna questioned, more so to distract herself than wanting to know an answer.

"Oh, maybe a dozen? Big Mom has many daughters!"

"Then surely I do not compare."

"Nonsense! You have the grace and serenity that I would expect of a Princess, and truthfully, most of the Charlotte daughters are...well, harsh, if I had to say." Minette gave a little laugh, stepping aside as one of the seamstresses ducked under Yuna's dress to make whatever adjustments they needed to the underside. "I respect them very much, but they make for very unorthodox brides."

"Hmm." Yuna responded, unsure what else to say.

"There. It is finished." The head seamstress concluded as she nestled the veil into her hair, and all of the women stepped back to see their handiwork.

Yuna caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and had to admit that she did look like the picture of what a bride should. The white veil covering her face, coupled with the stunning white gown...she was wedding ready on the surface. All that was missing was a bouquet of flowers to hold.

In her chest her heart hammered a painful beat, aching for the absence of her father and brothers. Denji would have teased her for the primness of her appearance, followed by Genji's incredulous reply that there was no need to be rude. Her father would have gazed upon her with fondness, and told her that she reminded him of her mot-

"Our job is finished." The seamstress continued in a loud tone, gathering up their things and taking the now-empty mannequin with them. "Minette, please escort the Princess to the chapel. Mama would like her to wait there before the ceremony begins."

A sudden thought came to mind. "My retainer-"

"He will be sent to the chapel as well."

And with that, the team of women disappeared again, leaving her and Minette standing in the middle of the guest room in silence. Yuna forced herself to take a careful breath, fingers clenching the edges of her wedding gown's white sleeves. This was all too much...

"Breathe, Princess. It is almost time for the ceremony, and we don't want you passing out from shock." The attendant's hand placed itself against the fabric around her leg, noticing the strained expression and her tense shoulders. "Follow me. I'll bring you to the chapel, and you'll be able to sit down for a moment in some peace and quiet."

"Yes..." Yuna said, slightly out of breath. There was no excuse for losing her composure now. So close to securing protection for her country, the Princess of Seiiki would not break under the pressure. Every challenge that presented itself here forth, she would undertake and overcome. Her fortifying nod followed after. "Yes, ok."

_____________________________________________________________

The chapel was silent, as Minette had promised. Blissful peace.

Yuna sat upon one of the pews at the front of the room, elbows on her knees as she leaned forward. The bouquet that Minette had handed to her before letting her have a few moments of solitude sat on the seat next to her. She glanced at it, trying to appreciate the colorful arrangement of flowers someone else had picked out for the occasion, but couldn't bring herself to care too much.

"Your vows are on a piece of paper in the bouquet." Minette had instructed, giving her an encouraging smile and a squeeze of her finger. Her tiny hand couldn't wrap around anything bigger on the bride. "You'll do great, I know it. And congratulations, Princess!"

Her eyes wandered to the podium that took up the center of the raised platform at the head of the chapel, overlooking where the congregation would have sat. The whole place looked so plain in comparison to the rest of Totto Land. It hardly seemed used. What was the point of a chapel if the wedding ceremony wouldn't be conducted in it? None of the residents struck her as the religious type either. When your life rested in the hands of a Yonko, she supposed it left little room for belief of a higher power.

The sound of a door opening made her glance back, nerves tensing her shoulders. But they fell in relief when she spotted Daigon slipping inside. The naval captain froze upon seeing her, before approaching with a cautiousness she hadn't expected.

"Princess..." He muttered, coming to stand before her and look upon the bride. The man was dressed in his finest uniform, the colors of their kingdom shown off with a pin on his chest. His normally unkempt, salt-colored hair was combed and trimmed. And while he wore a cologne to present his best, she could still smell the underlying salty stench that would always remind her of him. One might find it offensive, but she felt only a sense of comforting familiarity in this strange land.

His face was an open book, so unlike what was typical. The guarded, cynical man could barely suppress his wonder at the sight of the young woman before him. A hand slicked back through his hair, blinking a few times. Did he expect her to disappear?

"You, uh..." He began again, clearing his throat a few times to get rid of the huskiness in his tone. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." She replied, some of her nerves dampening with the warmth of his genuine compliment. Coming from him of all people, it meant more than she could describe. "I'm surprised you didn't come to my room this morning."

"I tried to, but...they wouldn't let me near your door. Said you were getting prepared and couldn't be disturbed." Daigon gave a shrug. "I figured causing a scene would have given you trouble, so I abided their terms."

"I appreciate it."

They both went silent after that, neither sure of what to say, until Daigon walked over and moved her bouquet to the side so he could sit on the seat beside her. His hand reached for hers, only managing to cradle half of her palm.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not particularly."

"And how are you feeling?"

"Terrified. Yet, calm." The bride frowned a bit. "I don't know how to describe it."

Yuna took a deep breath, before letting it all out in a huff. Her head shook slowly. "I'm so nervous, it takes everything in me not to shake or scream or cry. But at the same time..." She looked down at her hands. "...I know this is what I need to do. Like I was destined for it. I'll do my best to make Father proud, and all of the people back home. That alone is what's kept me together so far."

Daigon nodded but was unable to mask the expression of pain entirely. It was replaced with a sudden determination, and his eyes met hers directly. "Ask me to whisk you away back to Seiiki, Princess, and I'd do it. No matter how impossible it may be, I'd find a way. This may be your last chance to decide."

"Daigon-"

"My crew, they too would fight until their last breath on your behalf. If it meant you could return home, they would risk everything, the Emperor of the Sea's wrath be damned. So just say the word, and we'll burst out that window right there back to the ship." He pointed towards the stained glass towards their left. "This could all be a bad dream, an experience you can forget and never look back on."

Yuna stared at the window for a long time, before smiling quietly back at him, enclosing his hand in her palm with her other one. "We both know I will not ask that of you or your men. Big Mom's forces would strike you down as soon as we stepped foot outside of the garden. Seeing you lose your lives for me is not something that would bring me happiness. The cost of that freedom is too high."

The naval captain scoffed, clearly disagreeing, eyes downturned to the floor in anger. No doubt he blamed himself for being unable to find a way out of her predicament.

"I've made up my mind. I will go through with this wedding and protect everyone we love back home. This is a joyous day for the kingdom of Seiiki, even if it doesn't seem like it right now. So please do not be angry." Her hand squeezed his slightly, drawing his gaze upwards. "It's my wedding day, after all."

His expression hardened, but beneath the cracks she could see the struggle to keep himself composed. For a moment, his eyes took on a glassy appearance. "As you wish, Princess." He muttered.

Someone cleared their throat from behind them. Despite only having heard him speak a few sentences at most, Yuna could tell who stood in the doorway by his presence alone. Daigon swung his head to take in the sight of her groom, glaring his blatant displeasure at being interrupted, but she merely closed her eyes in preparation.

The time had come.

"The ceremony is about to start." Katakuri's deep tone explained, and she heard the naval captain low growl.

"It can wait. The Princess needs a moment to-"

"It's alright." She interrupted, garnering her companions attention. She flashed him another smile, this one feeling much more enthusiastic than what her emotions reflected. For his sake. "I'll be alright, Daigon. Please, make sure Father knows that. Denji and Genji, too."

He merely looked at her. She leaned down to envelope him in a hug, thankful for his presence up to this point. There was a very minuscule chance that she would see him again after this, if her experiences so far were anything to go by. Pulling back after a moment, she retrieved her bouquet from beside her and stood to her full height, making sure the veil was in place over her face.

Turning, she gazed upon her groom for the second time. Dressed in much more formal a uniform-though still retaining his fluffy scarf to hide his face-he was just as intimidating, if not more so, than before. His large build stood out in the fitted dress shirt and black vest. This one was buttoned, she thought with mild amusement. Black dress pants and shoes completed the look. Other than the odd accessory and the short, fluffy hair that came across as untamable, he looked as much a groom as she did a bride. A match made in...ah, hmm. Well, it was a match at the very least.

The thumping in her chest grew more pronounced, to the point that she worried he would somehow know. Despite knowing nothing about him, she got the impression that he was extremely observant. Those piercing eyes, and the way he held himself. Confidence like that didn't come from ignorance, surely. But her own determination tramped down the fear and kept it in check. Her expression kept deceivingly unaffected as she approached the man who would be her husband.

Katakuri looked down at her with his intense red eyes, flicking back and forth over her person, no doubt taking in her appearance just as she had done moments earlier. Whatever he felt about the end result was hidden behind his own blank face, though only being able to see the upper portion of it didn't help in the slightest. It would have been nice to know if he was repulsed or attracted to her. Was that too much to ask?

"I understand your mother does not appreciate tardiness." She found the strength to say, fingers tightening on her bouquet. "Shall we?"

His only response was a small nod. To her surprise, he offered her his elbow to take. Such a gentlemanly act from someone so aloof and distant. Her hand lifted and curled into the crook of his arm, feeling the strength of his muscle even through the fabric of his shirt. Yuna swallowed, telling herself not to get flustered.

Such a strong man her husband-to-be was.

Out of the chapel and down the main hallway he lead her, the distant sounds of music falling into her audible range. Her eyes kept straight ahead on the door that lead to the garden, where the ceremony would be held. There truly was no going back now. Measured breaths and even steps. No need to show them how terrifying this all was.

"You mask your fear surprisingly well." Katakuri suddenly spoke, drawing her gaze upwards. His own eyes were trained on the doorway, rather than her. It was like he could read her thoughts. "Can you keep it up in front of a large gathering of people?"

The words were almost mocking, but his tone conveyed a sort of curiosity more than anything. She supposed expecting him to compliment her on how she looked before the ceremony was too much.

Yuna let out a small breath. "Naturally. I've had years of practice."

"Hmm."

The conversation died away as the soon-to-be couple stepped out into the open garden together. Out of reflex, her fingers tightened their grip around his arm. If he noticed, which she was positive he did, he didn't react.

His description of a large gathering of people was a gross understatement. The main garden of Whole Cake Chateau was exorbitantly spacious, filled with smooth, orchestral music to celebrate the grand occasion. Round tables were placed to the left and right of the center carpet that Yuna and Katakuri would walk to reach the priest, and all of the seats were filled with the many guests that were in attendance. Hundreds of people. Thousands wasn't too far of a stretch, either.

Big Mom herself stood out starkly from the rest of the crowd, towering above and visible from anywhere in the venue. Her face was lit up with a blissful smile, watching the events unfold. Though, she kept glancing at the gigantic wedding cake set up not far from where she was seated. No doubt, that was the cause of her exceedingly good mood.

Not a single face was familiar. For someone used to diversity in a crowd, she wasn't prepared for the outlandish appearances of many of those closest to the aisle. The bride tried her best not to stare or let her gaze linger on any one person, unsure of who anyone was or their importance to Totto Land. Inadvertently angering someone who might make her life harder down the line was definitely not on her list of things to do.

She found it surprisingly easy to match pace with Katakuri. Even with 5 feet to his advantage, he kept their strides manageable for her shorter stature. So, he could be considerate, as well. A note she filed away for later.

Soon enough, they reached the dais where they were to be officially wed, Katakuri stopping them in place just before the round-bellied priest. He looked between the two of them with a small smile.

"With the arrival of the bride and groom...we may begin."

The music quieted on cue, and the priest began reading from the small book in his hand, voice loud enough for all to hear. Yuna's eyes never strayed from the book, trying her best to pay attention and not miss an important cue for when she would need to actively participate in the ceremony. But her mind was a swirling pot of nerves.

Katakuri's presence beside her was unmistakable. She knew he too faced forward without needing to look at him. If he even so much as glanced in her direction, Yuna would be able to feel it. As if the haki that he wielded with such ease was a physical extension of himself. What a sight the two of them must be, stone-faced and taciturn. What a dour pair.

Her bouquet felt heavy in her hands. A glance to her left confirmed that there were no bridesmaids to hand it over to. She didn't remember seeing any groomsmen to Katakuri's right, either. Her fingers twitched, nerves beginning to get the best of her.

Yuna closed her eyes for a brief moment, reminding herself that this was what she had decided, that she would make this all work, one way or another, and to live with her decision. No need to be so bitter. And if at all possible, Yuna swore to make things better for herself. And Katakuri. No need to be selfish in this marriage they would both be a part of. She opened them and schooled any cracks in her expression back into place, looking up at the priest.

"May we be presented with the rings?" The priest requested, turning and allowing Minette to step forward.

Yuna was pleasantly surprised to see her, and offered the tiny woman a brief smile. Minette returned it brightly, holding up a small box that contained hers and Katakuri's rings. They had to bend down to even get them, but it wasn't unmanageable. What's more, she reached for Yuna's bouquet, freeing her second hand to be able to go through the rest of the wedding unhindered.

Katakuri's ring was a simple silver design. It was unadorned, yet shiny, polished to perfection. Her own face reflected in the band of metal. As blank as the man she would slip it on to. How fitting.

"And now, the exchanging of vows." The priest announced, turning back to regard the couple, then gestured to Yuna. "If the bride will take the groom's hand..."

The couple turned to each other for the first time, forced to look at one another. Doing as instructed, she held Katakuri's much bigger hand in her own. Such a sensation was unfamiliar, but she didn't let the strange thoughts show on her face.

The vows they'd produced for her in the bouquet were so plain and generic, she'd already memorized them during her time in the chapel. Truthfully, they only served to irritate her, providing little sentiment and promising nothing of value to Katakuri as a person. How demeaning. Such hollow and empty vows felt disingenuous. It may be a marriage of political necessity, but that didn't mean she would allow it to be terrible. And any good marriage started with a good foundation. It would also show Katakuri that she would take this seriously, even if he did not.

Hoping her voice didn't come out as strained as she felt, Yuna lifted her eyes to look into his. They bored into her relentlessly. Hopefully, Big Mom wouldn't be angered if she went a little off script.

"I shall do my utmost to uphold your honor and my own, in danger and in safety." She saw his eyes narrow, realizing that her words did not match those he too had no doubt memorized for the ceremony. "Your burdens are my burdens. My victories are yours. I vow to further the prosperity of the Charlotte family, and my people of the Seiiki Kingdom, through this bond with you."

A low murmur went about some in the crowd, and even the priest gave a pause, unsure of what to do. Before anything could be done, Yuna slipped Katakuri's ring onto his finger, sealing her words in place and making it clear that she'd meant every one of them. He watched her silently, as if wondering why she felt the need to say such things, but his composure never slipped.

"And, uh...the groom." The priest continued, recovering from his surprise as gracefully as he could.

Yuna lifted her hand, allowing Katakuri to take it in his own. Her own silver ring was just as simple as his own, though topped with a pink gemstone. Her eyes tracked back up to his own, watching as he closed them for a brief moment, before meeting hers once again.

"Through this marriage, I vow to further the prosperity of Totto Land and the Charlotte Family." He recited without emotion, easing the ring onto her finger. His eyes seemed to dare her to challenge his lack of original vows, a testament to his opinion on this union. Well. She certainly hadn't been expecting him to be overjoyed to be married to her, but his blatant disregard for it all in general seemed...unnecessary.

Yuna and Katakuri's silent standoff through eye contact distracted them both enough to miss most of what words the priest had to say after the vow exchange, until he cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Do you, Onegama Yuna, take Charlotte Katakuri to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Charlotte Katakuri, take Onegama Yuna-"

"I do." He stated with impatience, jilting the ceremony again as the priest was not expecting the interruption.

"Ah...yes. Very good. Then by the power vested in me by the paradise of Whole Cake Island, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He shut his book and gave them both a strained smile, though neither bothered to look his direction. "You may, uh..."

Premature cheers from the crowd interrupted the rest of the priest's declaration, and Yuna was taken off guard when Katakuri simply turned to face the way they had come. He hadn't even lifted her veil. Hadn't even leaned in as if to kiss her. Her composure slipped enough to display her confusion.

She had anticipated differences in ceremony, but...the absence of a kiss seemed extreme. He nudged her to follow his lead and she reached up to take his arm as he lead her off to the side towards an empty table that she assumed was reserved just for them. The guests began to talk and laugh as the music once again swelled to life, bringing the celebratory portion of the reception into full swing.

As she was guided to sit in the chair beside her now-husband, Yuna's curiosity got the better of her. "Is it not customary to-"

"It is." He confirmed, his eyes fading from the red glow she was becoming accustomed to. "I refuse to show my face to anyone."

Her questions regarding the scarf were more or less answered then, silence overtaking her as she was forced to accept his explanation. She assumed since most of the crowd was his family, they too knew a concluding kiss wouldn't be part of the ceremony. Hence the premature celebration.

"I see." Was all she managed to say.

His reasoning wasn't a direct jab at her, per se, but Yuna couldn't help but feel insulted. He sat, unperturbed by the events that had just transpired, arms crossed with indifference as the party around them grew more boisterous.

When the cake was served, Katakuri didn't have any for himself, and Yuna tasted nothing but the bitterness of disappointment.

_____________________________________________________________

Late into the night, the party finally came to something of a close. That close being when Big Mom finally fell into a deep sleep amidst the remains of the cake she'd been eating. Many guests had passed out from too much alcohol or too much sugar at their tables during the past few hours, everyone too afraid to leave early and anger the Yonko.

The reception had much less been about the newly married couple than Big Mom herself. Many guests had provided her with gifts and tributes, barely giving Katakuri and herself so much as a glance. Yuna truthfully didn't mind too much, considering she knew no one in attendance and her emotional stability wasn't at it's peak in the moment. Katakuri didn't seem to care either.

When it was clear that Big Mom was out for the night, Katakuri finally rose from his seat, looking down on her with his typical blank gaze. "It is late. Let us return home."

Too tired to protest or ask the million questions on her mind, because she was exhausted as well, Yuna rose from her seat and followed after Katakuri back towards the hall they had originally emerged from. They stepped past unconscious guests, sprawled out at various points in the way of their path, and the remains of the huge party that had come to a close.

The softness of the grass beneath their feet changed into the tile of the castle floors, and he brought them both over to a large mirror set against the wall. Yuna frowned, unsure what exactly they were doing here.

"Brulee." Katakuri called into the mirror, arms once again crossed. "Take us through the mirrors to Komugi Island."

Not a moment later, the vision of a lavendar-haired woman appeared in the glass, and Yuna blinked in surprise. She was very witch-like in appearance, a diagonal scar marking the center of her face, overshadowed only by her pointed and slightly darker-colored nose.

"Of course, Big Brother." She responded, gesturing with a hand behind her, as if inviting them through. Though, she still took the moment to send a nasty glare in Yuna's direction.

"Take my hand." Katakuri suddenly said to Yuna, who looked down at his hand hesitantly. Though, she had no reason to distrust him at this point. She did as told, and a moment later, he was stepping through the mirror and pulling her along with him.

"What-" She started to say, but her breath was taken away as she passed through what should have been the solid surface of the mirror. The cold sensation that had accompanied passing through the threshold disappeared after a moment, and she found herself standing in a fantastically strange red and black checkered...place. It was too big to be a room, but the lack of open air meant they weren't outside. Thousands of mirrors dotted the oddly round and smooth walls, comprised of all sorts of sizes and styles. She didn't know what to make of all of this.

"This is the mirror world." Katakuri explained, no doubt noticing her confusion. "Brulee's devil fruit allows her to move throughout them as she pleases."

"Incredible..." She muttered, too amazed by the usefulness of such an ability and the remarkable zone that she'd created with it. Her words made her now sister-in-law scoff, though she wasn't able to completely cover up the redness that rose on her cheeks.

"You think this is impressive? I can do so much more!" She claimed, crossing her skinny arms over her dress-clad body. "This is barely a scratch on the surface."

"Which mirror will take us to my home?" He asked, cutting off his sister's blustering with a clear impatience.

Her attitude shifted to something much more pleasant, pointing to her right. "Over here."

She lead them towards one of the walls, and Yuna was once again amazed. She knew where specific mirrors were located? Out of all of these? What skill and memory Brulee possessed.

"This one leads to your home's main study." Brulee said, stopping in front of a oval-shaped mirror. Yuna peered into the reflective surface, watching as it suddenly shifted to be the scene of a darkened study.

"Thank you." Katakuri said, once again grabbing Yuna's hand and leading her through the mirror. The Princess wasn't even given time to register that they were traveling through again before she was dragged in between realms.

The mirror world was replaced by the study she'd caught a glimpse of. The change in light made her blink, but Katakuri was already moving away from her.

"This way." He said without looking back, and she followed where he lead her through the darkened home.

It was large, as she would have predicted. Not just in height, but in overall structure. Yuna marveled at how she could walk upright through every doorway they crossed, something she never could have managed back home. In fact, it hadn't occurred to her how much access Yuna had to the castle she'd stayed in and the place that would now be her home. Crouching and huddling low to avoid hitting her head on stone arches was a thing of the past. Having so many tall residents gave her a mobile freedom she'd never experienced before.

While not as fancy as the castle on Whole Cake Island or Seiiki, she could appreciate it's minimalist style.

Katakuri stood before a doorway at the end of the hall, turned to regard her for once, then turned the knob and entered the room.

It was even more spacious than the guest room she'd stayed the night in on Whole Cake Island, the bed a grand affair with a plush comforter and the fluffiest pillows she'd ever seen. A large window took up most of the opposite wall, giving a clear view of the main city down below. Yuna's brows raised, realizing that Katakuri's home sat on the top of a hill, maintaining it's distance but still in sight of the citizens to bring them a sense of reassurance that their minister was nearby and able to assist with whatever they needed. A very astute design.

Her eyes shifted to the left, where a large standing closet lay waiting open. And on the right was the entrance to their room's attached bathroom, elegant and simple. It was a beautiful room, though a lack of personal effects made it clear that Katakuri preferred function over sentimentality.

This would be her room now, too.

Movement drew her eye away, and she noticed that he began unbuttoning his vest. Yuna's mind purged itself of everything except the fear that he would expect many intimate things of her. Consummation of marriage...was a terrifying thought. With someone as large and muscular as Katakuri, she feared injury on top of insult from having to bare all of herself to him.

She'd procrastinated thinking about it, but there was no more time to push the issue. This was happening now, if it was happening at all. Her hands gripped the ends of her sleeves, staring up at him with clear discomfort. She began working herself up to ask the embarrassing question, knowing that it was better to be communicative than to assume.

He seemed to notice, and stopped what he was doing. In the dim light, the sudden flare of red from his eyes was obvious, but he closed them before she got a particularly good look. "Such an antiquated tradition. We are sleeping. Nothing more."

All at once the anxiety melted off her shoulders and she nodded her understanding, before moving off towards the closet to change out of her clothes. The door closed with a shut behind her, and Yuna looked to see what sort of clothing she had at her disposal to sleep in. Having even a scant moment of privacy to herself was reassuring at that moment.

She was pleasantly surprised to see long sleeved shirts and long pajama pants sitting folded in a pile on one of the shelves. Perhaps the seamstresses had put them here, or maybe Minette had. Whoever it was would probably remain a mystery, but she appreciated them all the same.

Pulling at the strings that held her dress together from behind her neck, it took many minutes of loosening and adjusting the laces before she was able to get it off. The white gown fell into a pile on the floor. Part of her wondered if it was something she'd want to keep, but she simply shucked it further into the corner, deciding not to care at the moment. Her mental and physical exhaustion were too much.

Checking to make sure the bandages had remained intact and secured, she slipped on the provided pajamas and emerged from the closet.

Katakuri sat in a large plush chair on the opposite side of the room, legs crossed at the knees and now sporting a pair of comfortable-looking lounge pants and a simple white shirt. Ever-present was the scarf that she'd never seen him without. His eyes had been closed, but upon her entering the room, they opened again.

"Which side of the bed do you prefer?" She decided to ask, figuring there was no perfect ice-breaker to beginning a conversation with him. "I have no preference."

"I will be sleeping here." He indicated in his typical deep tone, and she frowned.

"On the chair?" Did he assume her modesty went so far as to be unable to lay beside her own husband? "There is no need to-"

"It has nothing to do with you." He explained, expression never wavering. "I do not lay on my back under any circumstance."

Yuna had no idea what to say, never having heard of such a thing. The thought of sleeping while sitting in a chair for one's entire life? Absurd. Preposterous. Why have a bed if you would never use it, she wanted to point out. But he had already closed his eyes again and she was growing increasingly more tired the longer she stood there.

Yuna let out a small sigh, wanting to fight the ridiculous notion that he sleep on a chair, but turned in place and made her way over to the inviting bed. It was much too late, and the bed was calling her name in enticing whispers. Turning her back to where her husband now sat-she'd have to grow used to thinking of him as such- she covered herself with the comforter and settled in.

Sleep would not come for hours, and even when it did, Yuna only speculated the sorts of challenges this marriage would bring in her dreams.

Chapter 4 ->

#one piece #fanfic #romance #slow burn #arranged marriage #princess #devil fruit #eventual smut #multichapter story #katakuri x oc #whole cake island #charlotte katakuri #oc

21 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Ducktales Treasure of the Golden Suns Reviews: Wronguay in Ronguay (Paid for by Patreons)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to the genesis of magillicutty Ducktales with the second part of my months long look at Treasure of the Golden Suns, the mini series that kicked off the series. These reviews are a result of me hitting my first patreon stretch goal. I just did a LONGGG post outlining those here on tumblr so hit that up and help join my patreon so I can reach them and make some more moolah to help keep this my primary job.

So speaking of that job we’re back to The Treasure of the Golden Suns and the first chapter, while not bad, was a tad disappointing, especially since I really liked it on first viewing. So will the second chapter fair just as bad or be a massive improvement? The only way to find out is under the cut.

Previously on Ducktales: Donald shoved off with the navy leaving the boys with Scrooge, with both growing to care about one another... both out of nowhere

The boys ended up embroiled int he Beagle Boys theft of a wooden ship for a mysterious gentleman named El Capitan whose preferedd method of dealing with enterlopers.. was to use a chair like a lion tamer. After being falsely blamed for the theft, the boys ended up chasing the beagles to Scrooge’s candy factory, were vindicated and fought them off with Scrooge’s help , ending with the boys getting covered in choclate. while El Capitan escaped vowing to find the gold. Now knowing the wooden ship was a map, the family prepared to set off

And that’s where we pick up. The reporter from last episode comments on the beagle bust and while the Beagles are hauled off, with Burger asking if they have any milk after eating his chocolate prison. Because his only character trait is that...

youtube

The camera does linger on an impression the ship made in the chocolate... hmmmmmm.

Meanwhile we meet FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. As I said with Catch as Cash Can, he’s not BAD, just not NEARLY as memorable as the triumphantly insane 2017 version. He’s sitll a good villian and we’ll see why soon, he just has the unenviable task of competiting with a far more iconic versoin made decades later whose far more my type of bad guy. El Captian calls him and offers to make him the richest duck in the world, which he naturally is happy to hear him out on. El Captian as a character i’ll get into more.. but for now let’s talk about his weird fucking voice. For some reason, Jim is doing a Dr. Claw impression, to the point I thought this was Frank Welker. I will grant it’s better than a horrible latinx sterotype, and given the grand kishke and a minor character in this very episode, they were NOT above those, but its’ still just.. weird. He just sounds like he’s possesed with about 80 or 90 demons for no explained reason.

Back at the mansion, Scrooge and the Boys are both preparing to go after the treasure on the boat map: Scrooge is practicing vacuming it up using the pool and a sea safe vacum likely invented by Gyro, while the boys find the right coordinates to the treasure. Scrooge naturally.. is a bit of a dick about it, refusing to take them along despite them having found it, and saying they can stay with Duckworth. Duckworth’s response is about what you’d expect:

However before they can argue about this, there’s a bang at the door: It’s Flinty and here’s where the parts of this Glomgold I DO like, that do make him standout, if not as much sa his succesor shine: He plays scrooge, offering him 2 million for the Candy Factory. Naturally not realizing what Flinty’s getting out of the deal, Scrooge jumps at a quick and easy 2 million, since he knows it’ll cost MORE than that just to fix up the place. Flinty then proposes a contest: the two of them try to make as much money as possible from scratch in two days. No rules, no barriers, just whoever dosen’t have more money than the other by the end has to eat Flinty’s hat. Scrooge accepts.. but then realizes he has to eat crow and allow the boys along. With Scrooge sufficently blackmailed, the boys reveal where the treasure is: Ronguay, a made up south american county. Why they did so.. well just wait a second. And no it’s not just for the tile... but your close.

No we find out why as they take the cheapest flight avaliable to Ronguay, only for the boys their going the Wrong way to Ronguay.

Yeah I love a good pun but I draw the line at desinging an ENTIRE COUNTRY for a really obvious one. I have standards on this blog! Standards that include thirsting after Keith David , DBZA refrences up the whazoo and posting this gif of David Byrne at every given opportunity.

Look my standards are weird, but their still standards. I draw the line at making a stupid pun when there’s a rich number of countries in South America. I’m not saying Carl Barks was ever against making up a country, he probably did, could be wrong, but more often than not he did his homework instead, as did his succesor Don Rosa. It feels lazy to just make up a country when you really don’t have to and could’ve just found one with a massive rainy season for your children’s cartoon. It’s not hard. I mean it’s harder than now: now I could just google “what south american countries have torrental rains”.. but it’s not like you guys could’n’t just go to a bookstore and buy a refrence book or a library and rent one. I mean if they ran out of time to do anyresearch fine, but even for the 1980′s it wasn’t that difficult to at least TRY.

Regardless it turns out the pilot is a robot pilot.. who looks amazing but as it’s a flintheart glomgold company joint is purposfuly tring to keep them off path. Look they didn’t have to unplug the poor guy. I know what he wants.

So now on the right way to Ronguay our heroes lan only to find the locals all fleeing in terror of something. Scrooge heads in for suplies anyway and finds... a VERY racist sounding clerk. Seriously just to picture this.. picture say .. Michael Scott trying to do an mexican accent. You good and cringing? If not, adapt that to your doofus sitcom character or republican senator of choice There you go. You see my point. It’s not the WORST i’ve seen.. but only because I sat through the Rediculous 6 with my best friend, one of three, Cory, for a podcast we tried doing a year or two ago. I’ve seen Rob Schinder do this for an entire movie. In 2015 no less. So my threshold for HORRIFCALLY offensive is vast and deep. But this is still garden variety racist and should not have been okay then or now.

And it really SHOULD have the warning label on it. I’m fully in favor of the content warnings Disney started using, and it’s why I got so fucking annoyed during all the talk about it when it happend to the Muppet Show, ESPECIALLY when the republicans got a hold of it and accused them of “Canceling the muppets”. This is NOT fucking cancelation, this is a way to have the past there for posterity, while acknolding it sucked and was NEVER okay. It’s the best way to do this in my opinon, and it bothers me a LOT that a bunch of jagoffs coopted it and threw a hissy fit about Disney trying to do the right goddamn thing. And i’m also okay with leaving some media out. Disney + is a family platform. While keeping classic movies and shows on there with a proper warning is one thing, it’s another to not put song of the south or that episode of the muppets where the host later turned out ot be a pedophile on there. Some things just don’t have nearly enough worth to outpace the harm they can do. And it’s up to companies and consumers to figure out what fits where.

Anyways our heroes find a llama for transport and that the map is seemingly a dead end to the desert. But Scrooge is determined to press on... and while he does El Capitan and Glomgold are following him, though the two clearly don’t agree on whose in charge, or if El Captian sounds like dr claw or not. They followed with their own copy of the map taken from the chocolate.

As things progress the rain starts.. and our heroes find out via the JWG that this is what the citzens were all running from. They loose the llama, though are able to salvage some of their suplies it was carrying, and Scrooge nearly gives up to dispair. It’s a good, if sudden, character moment: Scrooge genuinely laments that he was worried one day he’d loose his step.. and stop being one step ahead of everyone. It shows some much needed vunerablity.. that beneath his boisterious and cantankerious usual personality he’s deathly afraid his age will eventualy mean he’ll have to stop..and having to stop adventuring and stop working and stop doing eveyrthing that makes him Scrooge McDuck is a fate worse than death.

Thankfully he dosen’t as via a figure on the ship, Huey, Dewey or Louie figures out, in a REALLY amazing twist, that the desert itself was the ocean: the ship that has the treasure simply sailed here and hid it. So while our heroes reflect, Glomgold decides to take them out NOW while he has the chance over El Captian’s protests, as the good captain only cares about the gold. But Glomgold is right.. from a villianous point of view at least. leaving them alive is a waste.. granted he does so.. in a way that makes my brain cry out in pain and want to run. He lights a stick of dynamite. In a torrential rainstorm.

I mean i’d expect 2017 Glomgold to try it and have it fail.. not to have the actually clever 87 version not only try something this stupid BUT HAVE IT WORK. THE FUSE LIGHTS. IT’S READY TO GO OFF. HE ONLY STOPS IT BECAUSE HIS MAP GETS EATEN AND THEY NEED SCROOGE’S IN TACT. JUST HOW DO YOU WHY DO YOU AUGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

Okay i’m.. i’m good now. So after that bit of nonsense and some taking my medication, our heroes take shelter in a cave. The grusome twosome try to sneak in while their asleep.. only to trigger the alarms the boys set up using their pots and pans, a “junior woodchuck alarm”. Clever little bastards.

The tables quickly turn though as Thing one and Thing Two trap our heroes in the cave.. as i’ts flooding. Scrooge has them press on in hopes of finding a way out, and it rises further and furthe ran excenelty tense scene. But eventually our heroes manage to find somewhere safe in time: the shipwrecked boat with all the gold. Scrooge even puts on a nifty golden conquestador’s helmet.

Naturally since we have minutes left in the episode the bad guys show up and have a gun... they never had before.

Regardless our heroes are lowered into the lifeboat at gunpoint as the ship goes out to sea and i’ts revealed el captain worked on teh ship as he knows the full manifest.

However both villians personal flaws end up doing them in: Glomgold’s need to gloat means he gives Scrooge a golden coin as he mocks him about winning the bet... only for El Captain to fly into an insane rage demanding he swim out and get it despite just how LITTLE he really needs the coin. He and Glomgold struggle over the ships canon, both no longer needing the other and eventually fire off a ball that capsizes the ship. El Captian seemingly drowns while Glomgold is forced onto the life boat with the McDucks.. and finds out he lost as while he and Scrooge both lost the treasure the coin he tossed scrooge means Scrooge still has made more money. So Glomgold prepares to eat his hat and El Captian prepares for vengance and to get his gold back.

Final Thoughts on Wronguay in Ronguay: The iffy bit with the store clerk aside.. this episdoe is easily the best 87 Episode i’ve seen. It captures the spirit of barks perfectly with plenty of intresting twists that kept me engaged the whole time, some great jokes, and two great villians who are done in soley by their own greed and neurosusi> it’s really great stuff and what I expected more and remember more from the 87 Series: top notch adventure in the barks style but wiht it’s own unique touches. While the pilot was a bit rough due to all the ground it tried to cover, this episode, now having the basic formula of the series pretty much set, is allowed to just be a fun, daring adventure story that brilliantly builds off the last episode but can be wholly enjoyed on it’s own. Hopefully this momentum keeps because I don’t remember being the fondest of the next two episodes.. and given that content warning I think we’re in for a rough time next month.

If you liked htis join my patreon, etc etc, I went into that mor eup top. Till All Are One, See you at the next Rainbow.

#ducktales #wronguay in ronguay #ducktales 87 #scrooge mcduck #flintheart glomgold #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #el capitain #duckworth #reviews #disney plus #the disney afternoon

11 notes · View notes

kerikaaria · 4 years

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 10

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff, angst

WC: 3k

Warnings: Injury (I don’t use much detail but just in case that would bother anyone), someone’s rude

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

“I already told you, I really don’t need all of you to help me move.” I addressed the seven eager boys trying to pile into the van with me and Sejin oppa. It was rather impressive that they all managed to be awake at 6 in the morning. “It’s basically just my clothes and a couple personal belongings and that’s it. At most just one, maybe two of you would be plenty.”

Well, that was a mistake to say. Now they were commencing a rock, paper, scissors match to decide who got to come with me. I shook my head and climbed into the passenger seat of the car, not bothering to wait and see the outcome.

I sighed as I looked at Sejin oppa who just chuckled. “Well, at least they’re excited,” he said.

“I think even that word is an understatement,” I replied. “They see me every day anyway, what’s so exciting about me moving next door?”

“Because they’ll be able to bother you literally 24/7,” Sejin responded. “And if you think they won’t, then you’ve got quite a surprise coming.”

“Is it too late to turn back?”

Sejin slowly nodded. “Looks like you’re stuck with them whether you like it or not.”

I turned my attention to the back door of the company van opening and saw Hoseok and Seokjin climb into the vehicle. I rolled down my window to address the five boys who would have to just wait for us to return. “We’ll be quick, like I said it’s only a few things. Now get inside before you freeze.”

We drove off to the college, where this would likely be my last time visiting – unless I were to go to pick up Jin of course. It felt a little bittersweet. I didn’t dislike the college, and even though I was not super fond of school in general, I liked what I was studying. I just found something I liked more, so I had to move on from it.

With the four of us, it literally only took one trip up and down to gather my belongings. The room was a single-person one so it was very small and couldn’t fit much, and I didn’t need many belongings in the first place anyway.

It was December 20th, college finals were all finished and the boys who were still in school were on their holiday break, so it was a good time for me to move into my new home. The boys were going to have a couple days where they could visit their families if they wanted to, which I was really happy to learn about. They all moved away from home to become trainees, so I could only imagine how much they missed their families. I knew I was really missing mine.

It was just as fast getting my belongings into my new home. And of course, as soon as we set the items down, the rest of the group entered through the doorway, carrying food with them.

“Guys”- I started.

“We have to have a housewarming party for you, noona!” Namjoon cut me off.

“We don’t have time for this, though,” I responded. “You guys have lessons in two hours.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it quick,” Yoongi responded.

“It’s tradition to eat some jjajangmyeon when you move,” Hoseok said. “We can’t let you move in without eating this with us!”

I sighed. “Okay, fine. We can eat this food together. But then I want to get my stuff put away, and you guys need to get to work so don’t think about staying long, okay?”

They agreed to my conditions as they placed the really delicious looking food on the table and the nine of us ate together.

After we ate, they took a look around my still empty apartment.

“Hyung,” Jimin addressed Sejin. “Can’t some of us just move in over here with noona? That way we're not as crowded.”

My eyes widened at his suggestion.

“Absolutely not,” Sejin responded immediately. “There’s only one bedroom here. And you cannot be living with a girl. It’s just not appropriate.”

“She is our manager though,” Taehyung chimed in. “It’s not like she’s some random girl. I wouldn’t mind living here with her!” He smiled.

“I want to live with noona, too!” Jungkook added.

I facepalmed and shook my head. Even if it were an option to consider, there was absolutely no way I was living with the hyper maknae line. Not that I didn’t love them, but that’d be like babysitting a bunch of toddlers 24/7, and without the help of the other members. Nope.

“Alright guys, time to go!” I quickly started to shoo them all out of my new home before more of them would say they wanted to live with me. As bad as I felt for the seven of them sharing a small room, it really would be bad if they lived with me and people somehow found out. I could just imagine the headlines about it now.

I got almost all of them out of my room, saying goodbye to Sejin as he left. But a very stubborn Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t leave.

“Jungkook-ah, why are you still here?” I asked him. Please don’t say you want to live with me again.

“I want to help you unpack.” He smiled at me.

“There’s not really that much, though.” I looked at the single suitcase, 2 boxes, and 1 bag of clothes sitting on the floor.

“Well, then this will be really quick, won’t it?” He said as he started opening up one of the boxes.

I sighed. “Well, just don’t touch the suitcase,” I said, giving in. It really was super sweet of him to want to help and since they still had an hour left before needing to go to the company, I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.

It took us a whopping 30 minutes to get everything in its place, and by the time we were done, you could still hardly even tell anyone lived here at all. I was not looking forward to what it would cost me to buy all the things I was missing, especially when I looked at my completely bare kitchen. But at least the room came with a television so I wouldn’t be super bored at home.

“Thank you, Kookie,” I said. “You’d better go back to your hyungs, you have to get going soon.” I placed my hands on the either side of his face and lightly kissed him on his forehead as a thank you. Ever since the birthday party they threw for me, these types of gestures started to become normal for us, at least in private. I wasn’t going to have weird rumors going around the company.

When I had first given Taehyung a kiss, it hadn’t gone unnoticed and the other two maknaes started to complain about wanting kisses too, saying I was showing favoritism. Although it wasn’t like I did this all the time - they became sweet gestures here and there. They were like my brothers and I was a person who enjoyed hugs and skinship, so I didn’t mind it.

Jungkook hugged me before saying goodbye and leaving. I told Bang PD-nim I didn’t need a full day to move and get situated, but he insisted I take a day off, so I technically didn’t have any work to do today. I still wanted to check on how the social media was going, though.

We opened both the YouTube channel and Twitter account for the boys this past week and started posting there. Sejin asked me to be in charge of keeping tabs on the posts, mostly because I needed things to do but also since it was my idea. I wanted to keep an eye on comments for now to get a gauge for what people thought, but I knew we probably couldn’t keep up with them sooner or later. The SoundCloud account would be opened in two days along with a few songs, but that was going through PD-nim mostly since he had to authorize any songs that were released.

There wasn’t anything particularly interesting going on with their social media, so I quickly got bored with nothing else to do. I decided I’d go to the company anyway and probably go watch one of the boys’ lessons.

Seokjin should be starting his vocal lesson right about now, so I could go listen to him sing, if he didn’t mind. He usually didn’t, he said it encouraged him to work harder when I enjoyed listening to his voice.

I made my way through the hallway leading to the vocal lesson room, when I heard someone talking loudly.

“WHAT? SERIOUSLY?!” They said. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, but I think I’d heard that voice before. “That brat is a full-time employee now?!”

I didn’t need to guess who they were talking about. Luckily, I was around the corner, so they hadn’t spotted me. They were probably standing at the coffee vending machine I knew was in the hallway. But that was the direction I needed to go, so I stayed planted in my spot.

“Shh, don’t talk so loudly,” a second voice said. “But yeah, I just heard that the president officially hired her. Crazy right?”

“I can’t believe it. She is going to do nothing but hold that group down, I swear,” the first speaker said. “She doesn’t even know her place. And the nerve that she had to think that she had better ideas than us, when it’s not even part of her job. Sejin better watch out because it won’t be long before she thinks she can just step all over him.”

Definitely the woman from the meeting. My gaze was glued to the floor as I heard them go back and forth a few times, continuing to talk about me. I closed my eyes and just tried to remember what Sejin told me about ignoring people like her, but it really was a lot easier said than done when you’re in the situation.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, so I jolted my head up to see who was there, scared that the people talking had seen me. But the hand was gentle, just like the person who looked at me with concern in his expression.

Yoongi stared directly into my eyes. He pushed my shoulders back with his hands to straighten my posture, then lifted my chin to keep my head high. He leaned towards my ear to whisper, “Ignore them. We’re going to walk right past them, together. And you’re going to keep your head held high, not sparing them a single glance. Their words mean nothing, and you’re going to show that to them.”

He looked at me expectantly. After a deep breath, I nodded and he led me around the corner. I felt my stomach doing flips, because I knew I didn’t actually feel as confident as I was trying to portray myself. But the fact that I had Yoongi next to me definitely helped, so I tried to focus on him and only him as we started walking.

Not two seconds after we turned the corner, they suddenly cut off their conversation. I glanced at Yoongi out of the corner of my eye, and he turned to me to offer me a small smile. But his expression quickly changed to his poker face. He tried pulling me behind him a bit, and I turned my gaze forward to see why.

The two were walking towards us, the woman who I definitely recognized from the meeting from a few weeks ago seemingly headed towards me. By the time she reached us I was almost completely behind Yoongi, but she still managed to “accidentally” spill her very hot coffee all over my arm and side.

I couldn’t stop myself from crying out in pain as I backed away from her on instinct.

“Oops, I’m so sorry,” she said, not even trying to sound sincere.

I could see Yoongi about to say something to her, so ignoring my pain, I quickly put a hand on his arm as if to tell him to stop and replied, “It’s fine. It was obviously an accident,” I said very blankly as I stared her straight in the eyes, making sure she knew that I knew that was a lie.

Before anything else could happen, I pushed Yoongi forward a bit so we could continue walking down the hallway. After turning the next corner and knowing they could no longer see us, I finally let go of the breath I had been holding back to let the pain I was in show.

“We have to get that treated right away, noona,” Yoongi said urgently as he eyed my arm up and down to examine the damage.

“I-it’s fine,” I stumbled out.

“No, it’s not,” he said, taking his jacket off. He carefully wrapped it around my shoulders so it hid my burn and the stain on my shirt, and he quickly but gently guided me towards their dance studio.

“Wait, why are we here?” I asked when we arrived at the door.

“There’s a first aid kit in the room, just in case we get injured during practice,” he responded.

He opened the door, urging me inside with him. “It’s a standard kit so it should have burn cream. Go sit on the couch,” he ordered while he ran to another corner of the room to find the first aid kit.

I did as he asked, thankful that no one was currently practicing here. He rushed back over to me and gently removed his jacket to take a look at my arm.

“Geez,” he breathed as he pulled out a soft towel from the kit to absorb any liquid that remained. I flinched and hissed at the pain from the touch. “I’m sorry,” he said as he carefully continued.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” I replied, doing my best to refrain from reacting any more.

After it was dry, he got out the burn cream.

“I can do it, Yoongi,” I said.

“No,” he insisted. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. Just let me do it.”

His tone had a finality to it, so I didn’t argue back. But as he started to gently apply the cream, I did find it in me to say, “I’m supposed to take care of you guys, not the other way around.”

He looked me in the eyes at my statement. “Noona, you being my manager doesn’t have anything to do with this right now.” He turned his focus back to my arm. “Right now, you’re my friend, and I’m taking care of you.”

Despite my pain, I couldn’t help but smile at that. After he finished dressing my arm, including gauze which didn’t feel very good against the injury but was necessary to keep the burn cream from rubbing off, his eyes widened for a second in realization. “Is your stomach okay?”

I looked at the stain on my shirt. “Um, I think so. I don’t remember feeling burning there. Let me check really quick.”

Yoongi turned around so I could lift up my shirt to get a better look. “No, it looks fine. The material must have absorbed enough of the heat.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, turning around just as I let my shirt back down. “You should probably go to a hospital to get that better checked out, though.”

“I’ll be fine,” I replied. “What could they do that you haven’t already done for me?”

Yoongi didn’t look satisfied at my answer, but responded, “Alright. I can’t force you.” He glanced at my arm and shirt once more, then grabbed his jacket sitting on the couch to hand it back to me. “You can borrow this to cover it.”

I smiled at him. “Thank you, Suga.” I put on the jacket, being careful to not agitate my arm. Then I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. “For everything. Thank you.”

He returned the hug, placing one hand on my head and the other on my back while resting his head on top of mine. “Of course, noona.”

We stood there like that for a moment until the door to the studio opened, revealing Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon.

“Well, that’s a unique sight,” Namjoon chuckled as we let go of each other.

“Hi hyung, hi noona,” Hoseok greeted. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “Nothing, really. We were just talking.”

“How did you get hyung to give you a hug?” Jimin asked.

“I bribed him,” I said with a smirk.

“Yah, that’s not true,” Suga retaliated. “I’m not heartless, I can give hugs.”

“Then can I have a hug, hyung?” Jimin walked toward him, his arms spread wide and big smile on his face.

“No,” Suga responded with a deadpanned look.

I giggled at the scene. “I’ll give you a hug, Jimin.”

“Yay!” He wrapped his arms around me tightly. He bumped the burn on my arm in the process, so I bit my lip to keep from reacting, but it only hurt for a split second. After he let go, I sat against the front wall of the room. “Well, since I’m here, I might as well watch your practice.”

Hoseok’s face brightened. He really loved having an audience to show off his skills to. “Wait, isn’t that hyung’s jacket you’re wearing, noona?” he asked, pointing at me.

“I have a song to write,” Yoongi said as he walked out of the room, keeping his eyes on me.

I smiled to let him know I was okay, then turned toward Hoseok. “I was cold, so he let me borrow it.”

“Bye, hyung!” Namjoon called to him as he opened the door.

Only a few seconds after he left, I got a text notification on my phone. It was from Yoongi. “Take care of your arm. Let me know if you need anything.” I smiled and went to put my phone away, but got another notification before it got to my pocket. “Oh, and no rush on returning my jacket.”

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged!

#BTS fanfic #BTS x reader #thebtswritersclub #If I Never Met You #IINMY #Manager!reader #Idol!au #jin #seokjin #suga #yoongi #j-hope #hoseok #rm #namjoon #jimin #v #taehyung #jungkook #fluff #angst

51 notes · View notes

cringeyvanillamilk · 4 years

Note

Who are your top ten favorite black clover characters and ships? Talk about them.

YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR A LONG TIME AND I’M READY TO DELIVER 1/2 OF YOUR REQUEST! I’ll post my top ten ships on your other ask~! <3

Sorry for the long text! I kind of went overboard with my explanations!

My Top 10 Favorite Black Clover Characters!

1 Asta

Before I got into Black Clover, I always heard a lot of negative comments about Asta as a character. “He’s too loud” “He’s extremely annoying” “He’s just a generic character”. After hearing so many of these types of comments, I was curious to see if what people said about him was true. And now that I’m up to date with the manga and seen every episode of the anime (except the recent filler episodes), I can confidently say, “WHO THE HELL WERE THESE GUYS REFERRING TO AGAIN???”. Like… hello?? I don’t know if maybe I’m just not that critical as a person, but I found Asta’s character to be quite endearing! People hated his voice but I thought it was pretty fine! It may be because I watched the dub, but even his Japanese voice isn’t that bad. Asta is just seems like an overall solid character to me! He’s not generic because he has a lot of quirks that makes him unique. One thing I noticed about his character was how family-oriented he was. You can tell by how he played around with other kids or comforted them that he has a lot of experience with kids! It’s honestly adorable how great he is with kids! And even though he grew up in an orphanage, he was able to find happiness as a peasant. I liked how he dreamt big even though he was starting from the very bottom. He didn’t have magic at all but he still had the determination to fight against all odds and strive to be Wizard King. Do you know how inspirational that is? And he’s not just doing it for himself, he’s doing for his family back at the orphanage! He said it himself, as Wizard King he’ll fix up the church and spread the message that it doesn’t matter if you’re a peasant or orphan, anybody can be Wizard King. Asta truly has a heart of gold because his goal isn’t just full of self-interest. I also like how he wants people to be held accountable for their actions. Asta is a very fair person and isn’t one to automatically kill the opponent to save the day. No, Asta wants these bad people to serve their time and make up for what they’ve done. Like??? Wow, Asta, you have a lot of mercy for a shounen protagonist. I think that’s what I love about Asta’s character. He represents hope for other people. And I’m a sucker for characters who fight for what’s right and not because of some heroic prophecy or selfishness.

This is where I list out random things I like about Asta’s character: Asta’s crush on Sister Lily is hilarious because it truly represents ‘fighting against the odds’ in a comedic way. Asta’s short stature is so cute, I hope he remains short for the rest of his life and grows to be proud of it. I really love Asta’s character design. He’s short, his ash blond messy hair is cute and unique, his sharp green eyes are beautiful, his shoes are two different shoes sewn together, and his fashion sense is simple yet nice to look at! A very distinct design! And his anti-magic and demon possession is a cool addition to his character! I’d gush more about him but I think this is already too much lmao.

2. Fuegoleon Vermillion

I’m going to push aside my thirst for this man and actually talk seriously about what I love about his character. I’m going to first talk about his character design. I really love how Tabata designed Fuegoleon. For one, I really love how he’s wearing eye makeup. I think it’s a unique family tradition for each of the kids to wear this distinct eye makeup no matter the gender. His eye makeup and burned symbol on his forehead really made him distinct from other characters! It’s subtle but visually pleasing! And ‘subtlety’ is a good word to summarize Fuegoleon despite how ironic that word is. When we look at Fuegoleon’s hair in comparison to his other siblings, his smooth hair tells us he’s more orderly and responsible but his curly bangs tells us that he isn’t completely cool-headed. His red eye makeup could also tell us that he has a fierce side to him, as if his eyes are glowing red with fire. And comparing his face with Nozel’s (both are around the same age), Fuegoleon looks older with his eye wrinkles, telling us that he’s more of an old soul and matured fast for his age. That and he probably overworked himself with a lot of responsibilities. His color scheme is also very attractive! He has a balance of warm and cool colors which makes him look… balance!

Now as a character, I really love the trope he represents! He’s the mentor figure for Leopold, Asta, and Noelle! For a character who isn’t part of the main cast, I find it impressive how impactful his words of wisdom was to the major leads. But it makes so much sense after all the things we’ve learned about Fuegoleon as a character! Fuegoleon has a lot of strengths as a character that I couldn’t help but fall for. Firstly, his debut of a character was short but memorable for me. During the Magic Knights exam, he was the only captain who passionately yelled about the rules of the next test. That was such a character defining moment because those few seconds perfectly described how intense and serious he is. He could’ve calmly announced the next test but the fire within him told him to jump up and yell those words with all his heart. The next time we saw him, we finally got to know him a lot better as a character and man did he win a lot of respect from me. Despite being a royal, he stood up for Asta when no noble did. He was the first noble to treat Asta fairly right away. In comparison to other nobles we’ve come across, Fuegoleon was a breath of fresh air! He wasn’t discriminating or condescending, which made him a lot more likable! I liked how he came from a privileged background but his sense of justice was still a 5/5. You just can’t hate this guy! His visuals are not only attractive but also his personality! He charmed me even more when he was the first to act and became a temporary leader for the other captains! His leadership, inspirational words, and fairness makes him an overall respectable character! I found him even more endearing when we saw his socially awkward personality. Serious + awkward are perfect combinations for a cute character. I also find his fire magic, salamander, and fire arm to be cool as well! He’s just a great character to me!

3. Finral Roulacase

Okay I’m going to try and not write too much like I did with Asta and Fuegoleon lmao. I need to chill-. Finral is the type of underdog character I always loved in anime. The character people don’t think much of at first but then they undergo a lot of character development! I liked how we saw subtle changes within Finral throughout the series and the resolve he gained as an older brother to Langris. His character arc was overall satisfying to me, especially during his final clash against Langris! Finral just has that good amount of light-hearted times (mixers, casanova wannabe personality, cowardly moments) and family drama! I would never expect a lot of depth in Finral based on his character trope but here we are. Finral is such a likeable guy. I just can’t hate him. I also like how he isn’t a perverted character. He just wants LOVE. Also his spacial magic? I love how unique it is! He’s a walking taxi but the fact that he developed a new magic spell to use it during combat is amazing! I also love how kindness is a big part of his character! A very peaceful libra~! I think what made him above Noelle was that I found his character to be charming ever since the very beginning! That and the fact that he can be considered the ‘underdog’ of the Black Bulls!

4.Noelle Silva

Oh Noelle! You beautiful and frustrating character! I’ll be honest, I had mixed feelings about Noelle when I first got into Black Clover. I was never a fan of overly exaggerated tsundere characters and so I would get frustrated with her tendency to act this certain way in the beginning. It was the true definition of slow burn but it’s through this gradual liking toward Noelle that made me feel strong and positive emotions towards her today. Slowly but surely, Noelle began finding her worth as a person and magic knight. All her life, Noelle was put down by those she called family and other noblemen for her lack of control over her magic. And it’s through this understanding of her backstory where I truly get why she wears that tsundere mask with other people. She can’t take a compliment normally because not only had she never been complimented before, but she grew up in an environment that taught her how she should act as a royal. She was bound to be unlikable at first, but it’s through a lot of character development and understanding where I found my love for Noelle. Noelle to me is how most shounen female leads should be. She has a crush on Asta but that’s not her entire character. She has internal struggles outside of her love interest and went through so much development that she became one of the most powerful young magic users in the series. Like the power ups she went through?? HOLY SHIT. The fact that she made me forgive her tsundere tendencies shows how great her character was.

5. Magna Swing

Man, I’m also a sucker for characters like Magna! I just love the delinquent with the heart of gold! Magna appears like your everyday punk but he really is such a good guy! It’s fun to see characters that subverts expectations and Magna is no exception! It’s small actions from this guy that makes him so likable! I really love how aggressive and uninviting Magna was in testing Asta only to heart warmingly accept Asta into the squad once he passed! He does this again when he makes fun of Asta for having a very small room but then tells Asta to send letters back home so that his loved ones aren’t worried! LIKE HELLO?? Why are you so lovingly contradicting?! Magna really tries to uphold his tough guy image but does sweet things right afterwards!! Magna’s character said never judge a book by its cover! I also find his loyalty toward Yami to be so sweet! He’s willing to gamble his clothes for this man and I call that DEDICATION. Magna is that ride or die friend that I’d love to have in real life. His interactions with other characters are also hilarious and his presence always brings a smile to my face!

I know I keep talking about character design but I can’t help it since Tabata’s character design is GREAT! Magna’s design… I LOVE IT!! He has the cliche leather jacket and skull motifs to bring his delinquent look together! And Tabata had to give him blue shades!! The perfect accessory to complete the look! I also love his hair style and color! Magna is this close to having a pompadour but stuck with a Mohawk look instead! I also like how his hair has two different colors! It tells me right away that people dye their hair in this world! Interesting information for subtle world building! Light gray and black is such an nice color combination, too! I like how he becomes more of a pretty boy when his hair is down! It’s a nice surprise~! And his most iconic character trait. HIS SMILE! I love anime characters with toothy smiles! We can literally count how many teeth they have- LDKAFJSA. Reminds me a lot of Totoro!

I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

6. Klaus Lunettes

Klaus… Santa Klaus… I think I may have a type because in my top three characters I’d date, he and Fuegoleon are up there together! Both are serious and high strung characters with a dorky side to them. These two truly captured my heart-! Klaus is overall a great character! Klaus is the straitlaced character who wants to be respected by others. Sadly nobody gives him that respect and I find that hilarious! I love how short-tempered he is despite how cool and collected he wants to appear to others! Everything about him is contradicting! His hairstyle and earrings are punk rock but his glasses clash with it. He seems disciplined and mature, but is the first to crack and get overworked by emotions. Klaus acts stern, but can be very protective and nurturing. His character did a literal 180 after Asta and Yuno saved them all from Mars. And when he gets worried over Asta and it always warms my heart!! Klaus is lowkey a tsundere but is actually subtle about it- wow! He’s so… comically dedicated. He doesn’t half-ass anything! Overall, he’s a solid character to me! I hope to see more from this nerd!

I’m just going to list out other things I liked about Klaus: I love how his character quirk is him readjusting his glasses. Like get some new glasses if they don’t fit you nerd. I bet he does it to look cool or something. Smh. I also love his outbursts! I mentioned that he reacts quickly and emotionally and I find these traits to be very charming! I like how he doesn’t make his worries towards Asta obvious. We only know this side of him through other characters! That’s so cute~!

7.Julius Novachrono

I deadass thought this man was shady af. I'll have to blame OP 3 and Tabata for clowning me like that but despite the initial suspicion, I really enjoyed his character! I really love how dorky and childish he is! I can never get tired of his fanboy moments in the anime! He's literally the strongest mage in the series but still gets excited over rare or unique magic! I also love how humble he is! He doesn't let his title give him a big head. Despite this quirky side to Julius, I liked how realistic and competent he is as well. He isn’t one to give hopeful answers to other characters. When he said in order to be Wizard King you must have merits, I respected his honesty. Having good morals isn’t all you need to be Wizard King and Julius made that very clear. When he killed off a few members of the Eye of the Midnight Sun, that’s when his character became more real to me. Julius has the experience needed to be a well respected Wizard King and his support towards Yuno and Asta made me like him more! Julius just has a lot of depth and I really appreciate that in a character! I found the path Tabata put Julius in to be very interesting to me! I’m actually glad he’s still alive but as a kid! The series isn’t ready to lose their Wizard King yet and there’s still a lot from Julius I’d love to see in the future! Julius truly brings a lot of humor and epic moments in Black Clover which is why he’s in my top 10 favorite characters!

I also love his character design! I think the short and blonde hairstyle with the royal king aesthetic is pleasing to the eye! He could’ve been a total snob like King Augustus but he strayed away from that trope! His name is similar to Julius Caesar in which represents his leadership and powerful authority as Wizard King, but subverts negative traits associated with Julius Caesar! Clever Tabata~!

8. Vanessa Enoteca

I’m going to have to shout out Vanessa’s arc for making her character be in my top 10. Like if it weren’t for the witches’ forest arc, she wouldn’t have made it in my top 10. I thought Vanessa’s character was a given for a shounen series where we have at least one sexy female character for fanservice, but I’m pleasantly surprised at how deep her character was! Who would have known that there was an actual reason for her to have a revealing design! I think it’s fine to have a character who wears revealing clothes for the heck of it, but I feel like Tabata went the extra mile to be pretty thoughtful about it. For one, she was always caged in (literally and figuratively) ever since she was a child. This backstory indirectly tells us why she wears such revealing clothing. That’s because it symbolizes her freedom as her own person. She went from the modest dress she wore when she was caged in to a sexy dress! I really understand this mentality!!

As a character, I found her lack of freedom to be very relatable. I also felt sympathetic towards her character when she didn’t receive healthy motherly love. I felt a lot of emotions for Vanessa and that made me appreciate her character more! I feel like her character started to leave a positive impression on me when she acknowledged Asta’s strength and determination as well as her helping Noelle as a proper older sister figure! Her arc solidified herself into my top ten when she gained the powers of red thread of fate because of her love for the Black Bulls. That power up shows how much she values the Black Bulls and it always makes me feel soft just thinking about it! Her magic ability is also pretty cool. Thread magic? There’s a lot you can do with that magic! I like how she had a prominent role of maneuvering Asta during the Veto fight, too. Vanessa is another female character with an incredibly strong magic power. It became so useful in so many moments in the series!

Other comments I’d like to say about why I like Vanessa is her sexy witch aesthetic. I think she looks very pretty and her color scheme is beautiful!

9, Charmy Pappitson

OH GEMINI QUEEN. I love you so. What I like about Charmy was how many times she surprised me. When I first saw her, she looked like she’s a kid but she’s actually 19 years old. What? Then when I saw that she was the glutton, I thought she’d be selfish with her food but then she shares it with others. Huh? Then I assumed she was a harmless character but then she knocked out that witch when she mistaken her for stealing her food with her sheep magic. Oh? And just when I thought I saw everything I needed to know about Charmy, it’s revealed that she was a dwarf and has food magic. HELLO? Like what else am I going to learn about Charmy?! She’s such an unpredictable character and that’s what makes her so fun to watch! The thing is, she still remains the same after all these reveals! She doesn’t really go through a lot of character development but these surprises make up for it! Charmy is overall a feel good character. She’s not one to be taken seriously all the time and that’s okay! She’s just there to have a good time! She radiates good vibes and I like how light-hearted Charmy is! She’s also pretty badass, too, so great combination!

10. Gordon Agrippa

And finally we have Gordon. Gordon. is. such. a. good. boy! There’s no bad bone in this man! He’s so dedicated and loyal to his friends! And it makes me feel bad that he doesn’t get the love he deserves in the canon story! Everything about him is so pure and soft! I love how he’s very quiet and mumbles a lot but the words he says are very sweet! I’d love to listen to his friendship speeches all day! Gordon is the type of guy I’d definitely want as a best friend. His quiet voice and my deaf ears aren’t a great combination but I don’t care! Gordon’s personality is perfect to me! I really hope we get to see more from him in the future!

In terms of character design, I absolutely love it! His goth aesthetic contrasts so much with his actual personality. I love the Marilyn Manson inspiration behind Gordon’s design. His character design is so distinct from other characters which makes him stick out like a sore thumb. This is random but I love how thick his lips are. The black lipstick and eye shadow also looks great on him! His nose is also cutely big!

Gordon is one of the best boi. No question!

#black clover #answered #THANK U FOR THE ASK BTW!#My top 10 ships will be completed soon....#I'm finally relieved though #I hope my thoughts make sense?

27 notes · View notes

dyke-remy · 3 years

Text

Live And Let Die, part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Words: 3505

The train cart was filled with silence. Remy looked at the dog tag, the dog tag which had belonged to Roman. They looked up at their husband. He was staring right through them.

"I- I'll call Q. He'll get us home" Remy hastily let out.

They didn't get a reply. Remus sat perfectly still as they talked to Q. He seemed to be looking at a ghost. Maybe he was dissociating, maybe he was reliving the death. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Eventually Remy got up and took his hand. They held onto him until the train got to it's next stop. Held onto him the long car ride to an airport. Held onto him the entire flight back to England. Held onto him until they back to their apartement at MI6. They knew he would break apart if they let go right now.

Remy was sure M would give them a break from missions. Remus was barely eating, much less sleeping. No one could except him to work.

And yet here they were, 2 days later in M's office. Remus actually sat in a normal position in one of the chairs which was so unusual it even made M uncomfortable. Remy sat in his lap with their arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

"-I assure you 009 that I would let you two have a break if this mission wasn't urgent. Trust me I would be very happy if you two disappeared from my sight for a while" M aka Deceit said. One of his pet snakes had made itself comfortable around his neck.

"Sure girl. What's so fucking important then?"

Deceit pushed a paper over the desk towards them "This. Your luck was in your favor 009. You brought back a document from Ron Stewart's, the man you killed, room on the train correct?"

"Girl I dunno. 75% of the time I'm just like running on instinct and iced coffee but yeah sure"

"Yes well this document talks about Stewart's company partially being bought by this company by the name of Vigur. I didn't recognize it so I asked Q to do some research and-"

"It's a vampire sex ring!" Remy guessed.

Deceit blinked at them "Close. No it's a new company, actually it hasn't even started yet. It will have an opening this week in Manchester. It's an energy company and apparently it's lead by a young new business entrepreneur. It's strange.....When Q looked him up there was nothing. No history, no photos, no educational records. Only a few articles about him and his dad and that he was the leader of Vigur"

"I didn't catch the name"

"Virgil. Virgil Viverno"

Remus suddenly moved his arms around Remy's waist so tightly their ribs hurt. He buried his head against their shoulder. His spouse' placed their hands on top of his.

Deceit looked at him varily. He really did want to let the agents go on a break, he wasn't heartless, but, well, they had a mission to finish, even if it had become an intricate one.

"I suggest you two infiltrate the opening of the company. Find any information you can because somehow this has to be connected to the killings of agents caused by....Jaws...To aid I asked Moneypenny to follow Virgil around a bit and take a few pictures so you two know who to interrogate"

Deceit called for Moneypenny aka Patton. He entered the office with a stack of photos in his hands before sitting down on the edge of the table and laying out the photos. It was all of the so called Virgil. He was sitting in a car far away in all of them so it was a bit hard to see but they got the basic gists of him having short unkept black hair and sickly pale skin.

"Aww Patty I didn't know you got to work out in the field" Remy commented.

Deceit arched his brow "Don't underestimate him"

"I might not be as good in combat as y'all are but I can be sneaky and take a few photos every now and then"

Deceit sent him an unusually warm smile "You did a good job"

Moneypenny blushed slightly "Oh shush you snakecharmer. I'm married"

Remy grabbed one of the photos and looked closer "Betting on him being gay so time for some guy drag. Just 'cause I'm like tots too lazy to get into womany attire. We'll infiltrate the party, I'll take him to his hotel room and look for anything about why this new stupid company exists"

They were quiet for a few seconds before adding with venom in their tone "Or why they murdered Picani"

Patton leaned over and patted them on their shoulder to comfort them. "Yeah it's a bit weird. I followed him around for quite a few days but he rarely ever left the house he was staying at. He never even walked around. Either he was at that house or he was driven directly to the company building. He never stayed there for long so he couldn't have been working"

"Mhm" Deceit began "It could mea-"

Remus slammed his hand down into the table.

"You're all ignoring Roman"

Patton paled a little. Deceit leaned back in his seat. They were all silent.

"I- I mean the dog tag it- it has to mean this- the company- Picani it must have something to do with Roman doesn't it- I mean- I mean- Maybe- Roman could be alive"

Remus looked around at them while holding the tag close to his chest. He didn't look mad. He just looked like a cornered animal, a hurt prey.

"Kiddo" Patton held out his hand, unsure if to comfort or reason with him.

"Killing a 00 agent is quite a big thing. I can imagine that someone would gladly take the dog tag and keep it with them as a souvenir if they'd been in the same building as where it happened. From your reports of what happened there is no chance your brother is alive" Deceit stated bluntly "It is of far greater importance to try and find this 'Jaws' guy before he kills any more 00 agents"

All of the air seemed to go out of Remus. His arms loosened around Remy. They tried to comfort him and whisper sweet nothings to him.

"M don't be so cold about it!" Patton exclaimed. "It's okay kiddo. I'm sure- Maybe- We-" He pressed his lips into a tight line and tried to think about anything positive to say. He gave up and moved to try and hug Remus at least.

Remus stood up from the chair so quickly Remy nearly fell down on the floor. He banged his hands down into the table and leaned close to Deceit. His furious brown, nearly red, eyes stared into Deceit's cold black ones.

"I'll capture Jaws and I'll drag him back here. I'll drop him right here on your bloody desk if that's what it takes to make you take me seriously. And then I Will find my brother! Even if it's just his rotten corpse!"

He stormed out of the room without another word and slammed the doors shut behind him.

Remus was driving a black ashton martin towards the company's building where the opening party was being held. He had on a black suit. Remy sat in the passenger seat. They had on a looser fitting black blazer with a white button up under and pants. They'd styled it with a necklace and a few rings on their fingers.

"Babe you don't have to like do this you know that right?" Remy asked while looking over to their husband "Like it's really understandable if you want a break from work or something right now with the whole Roman thing. I can handle it on my own"

"I have to.........If there's a small chance Roman is...is.....out there I have to follow up on.....And even if he's....even if he's...gone....I want to at least stop the people who...killed....him" He held onto the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white "I want to tear them apart for hours upon hours until they're begging me to kill them"

Remy took his hand and intertwined their fingers "I'll be right here beside you" They pressed a kiss to his knuckles "I'mma be cutting people apart as well!"

Remus sent them a tired smile "Mhm. Love you my rotten lil sunflower"

They scrunched their nose "Gross"

"Nu-hu! You're my dear maggot infested heart"

"And you're the human equivalent of a mad scientist's experiment going wrong"

Remus pretended to blush "Awww you're always at your A game with compliments"

"Somebody has to be"

They leaned in for a kiss before getting out of the car. The tall building had an elegant opening door made out of glass.

Remy held onto their husband's upper arm and leaned on his shoulder as they walked in. The entrance was a grand room looking outmost modern. The reception had been turned into a bar and there were cocktail tables here and there.

The opening party was mostly to establish connectioncs between CEOs and such. It was all fake smiles and empty talking between glasses of champange.

"Let's say we're here for my mom's company" Remus whispered.

"Oh yeah the super legal one with a brilliant name" Remy chuckled back.

"Don't you dishonor the name of Octopussy!" He did a dramatic pout "But we'll say we're from the hotel business side of the company and not the y'know jewel smuggling-"

"Or circus business"

"Or circus business yes"

They mingled among the crowd while looking for Virgil. It was ironic how Remy was better at talking about the Octopussy company than Remus was. He'd always been better at the smuggling part than the business part while it was the reverse for his twin. Roman had been chosen to become the full time leader of the company once their mom retired...well that had changed obviously.

Remy was in the middle of making up an elaobarate lie about Octopussy totally being besties with the owner of this company to some business men when Remus pulled them aside. He pointed over to a dark corner of the room.

"Holy shit!" Remy gasped while their eyes widened "That's a total heart-throb!"

"What- No-" Remus looked at them with a confused look before looking back at the corner.

Remy was looking at a tall, broad shouldered, muscular guy in a slick black suit. He stood near the corner with his arms crossed. They were practically looking at him with heart eyes.

"Awww babe are you trying to find me a date? He's just my type!" They said while holding onto their tall, broad shouldered, muscular husband wearing a slick black suit.

"Sorry darling dearest but I was pointing at Virgil"

Next to the muscular guy a skinny man was sitting by a lone table. He had on a black button up shirt with a purple hoodie over. There was a glass of soda in front of him.

Remy pouted "That's not as fun"

"You can try to flirt with him while you get info from Virgil" Remus moved his hand to their jaw and leaned their head up "You horndog"

"Shut up your bundle of bacteria" They teased back before leaning in to kiss him.

"A demon would be jealous of your horniness......because....y'know....demon horns"

"Girl I could walk into a public toilet and press my finger against the wall and I would get the same amount of filth on my finger from that wall as I would get from your skin"

Remus kissed them again "Love you"

"Love you too" They smiled into the kiss.

"Be careful. If I see you leave with Virgil I'll follow you and cut in if I hear anything fucked aight?"

"Got it gal!"

Their hands lingered together for an extra moment before they both willed themself to let go. Remy walked towards Virgil. They unbuttoned the top 2 buttons on their shirt, dragged up their shirt sleeves slightly and fixed their hair.

They didn't get to Virgil. The tall muscular man stopped them beforehand by grabbing onto their shoulder. They couldn't honestly say that they were complaining.

"Mr. Viverno doesn't wish to talk to any more strangers for the rest of the night. He's already had enough people try to manipulate him with sweet talking and business deals" The man, who Remy assumed was a bodyguard, said in a stern tone.

Remy sent him a cheeky smile "Aww girl I'm not here for some money talk or whateva. I just hate parties. I was forced here just as much as the next boytoy"

The bodyguard sneered at them but from over his shoulder they could see Virgil glancing at them. In the low light it was hard to see the details of his face.

"Theo it's okay. You can let him in"

Remy had a shit eating grin on their face as they gracefully sauntered past the bodyguard apparently named Theo. They slumped down on the seat on the opposite side of the table to Virgil. He seemed okay with just sitting in silence, Remy wasn't.

"I'm Diamandis. Remington Diamandis" They reached out their hand after saying the totally real and not at all made up name.

Virgil just stared at their hand "You already know my name. You wouldn't be at the opening if you didn't"

They leaned their elbows on the table "Yeah well introductions are always nice either way. Know whats not like nice? Parties. Fucking hate them" They lied.

He quickly nodded along "Everything is so....loud....there's so many peoples. I've never been to any sort of party or anything before but I already hate them"

"Impressive. If I could choose I would have tots been...." Remy tried to figure out what Virgil would react to best "Been staying in my room all alone like just calm no sounds. Sadly my daddy is like involved with this like octopussy company so I gotta be here" They saw how Virgil immediately tried to hold back a smile at the mention of the name "It's okay, you can laugh"

He covered his mouth with his hand while giggling "Sorry- Sorry it's just- that's a bad word"

"I'm aware. I've been looking to get a new daddy anyhow. Someone less boring who doesn't drag me to all these stuck up parties"

"....Through....adoption...?...Or...?"

Remy realized they were talking to an innocent lamb and quickly changed the subject "So you wanna buy us drinks? A fancy cocktail would sound nice right about now" They leaned their chin on their hands and moved closer.

"I uh I can't. Maybe some soda I dunno"

"What? You're waiting 'till marriage to drink or something"

Virgil glanced up at him "No I- I'm not allowed. I'm 15. Theo said-"

Remy reared back into their seat. The smug look on their face was instantly gone as they buttoned up their shirt all the way up. Now when they knew he was a teenager it was blatantly obvious. Suddenly they noticed the subtle acne on his face, how his arms clearly had had a growth spurt before the rest of his body, how he still kind of had baby cheeks.

"I'm sorry. You should have said- I didn't think- I'm sorry that's like tots gross of me- The lightning is really bad I couldn't see- Sorry girl" They babbled out.

"What are you apologizing for?" Virgil asked while tilting his head.

"I the adult here flirted with you- which is so disgusting and girl I'm like-"

Virgil looked like he was one step away from slamming his hands into the table and standing up "Flirting??" His eyes widened "That was flirting??"

"Indeed it was. I was close to punching you the entire time" Theo muttered while eyeing Remy.

"This is almost as cool and as when I got to try out a phone for the first time a few days ago" Virgil pointed over to Theo "He has a bunch of games on his phone. They're really fun"

Theo let out a ridiculously tired sigh "The games are just there for my kids I swear"

Remy zoned out of the conversation. The sheer weirdness of someone who apparently is a CEO 1. being a teenager and 2. not owning a phone had taken them right out. Every step of this mission seemed to make it weirder and weirder. It made their head hurt with unanswered questions.

"-my room?" Remy got forced out of their thoughts as Virgil asked them something.

"What?"

"Do you want to go to my room? I have a room on the second floor in case I ever need to stay over for the night. The place I actually live is quite far away from here" He fiddled with his sleeves "You said you would rather be in your room like ehhh being calm so I thought we could go away from all the loud people at least"

"Sure kid" Remy almost felt bad for how easily Virgil had done exactly what they wanted him to.

He got up and mumbled something to Theo before setting off towards the elevator. Remy blew Theo a kiss before waving goodbye as they walked past him. In response he gave them the middle finger, clearly showing of the wedding ring on his finger.

One short elevator ride later they were following Virgil through a long hallway. It was all cold grey walls and light that gave them a headache. It was quiet apart from the muffled sounds from the people on the first floor.

Virgil suddenly reached out and held onto the sleeve of their blazer. He looked up at them with big eyes "Have you ever touched snow?"

"....Yes-"

He held onto them harder and a smile played at the edge of his lips "Can you describe it?"

Remy was a bit taken aback by the weird question but shrugged and began to describe it. Nothing had been worse than the freezing winters with nothing but their mothers and a cheap sleeping bag to keep them warm. From the corner of their eye they caught a glimpse of Remus following them.

Virgil's smile grew wider the more they described it. His blue eyes looked at them as if they were the most knowledgable person ever. Before they knew they'd reached his room. It was mostly bare. Just a bed, a nightstand and a few boxes. The bed wasn't even comfortable as they sat down alongside the teenager.

They glanced around for anything important. Drugging a teenager so he fell asleep so they could search through his room made them feel really disgusting but at least it was better than knocking him out. Hopefully it would just feel like a quick nap. Hopefully they could hide the sleeping pill in some soda.

"Are you looking for something?" Virgil asked.

"Nah girl. Nothing. I was just-"

Remy turned back to look at him. His smile was gone and his blue eyes suddenly seemed cold. It felt like his gaze was piercing through them.

"Oh 009. You should have paid more attention" Virgil murmured.

Their blood ran cold at the mention of their 00 title. They tried to speak but realized their mouth felt numb. Their whole body felt numb and as heavy as lead.

"Do you seriously think Theo would have let you be alone with me unless he knew you were so stupid you wouldn't even care to look at the most important part of this room" He scoffed at them.

Remy fell back on the bed. Their eyelids could barely stay open as they looked up. Their eyes widened as they saw dozens upon dozens of spiders sitting on the roof.

"Ruthie is such a good girl" Virgil picked up a big black spider that had been crawling around on the covers. He patted her while talking "All it takes is a small bite from her and a human can be passed out for up to 6 hours"

Remy wanted to muster up the strenght to snarl an insult at least. Instead all they could do was fall asleep as their eyes rolled to the back of their skull.

Virgil's smile widened "Goodnight"

He let out a few more of his dear spiders crawl up on his arms. He threw the bed lamp down on the ground and let out a few fake muffled cries. It was too trick 009's equally as stupid partner to rush in.

And he did. Of course he did.

Remus stumbled into the room with a neutral expression plastered on his face. His eyes darted around the room but quickly landed on his sleeping spouse.

"Sorry! I was uh looking for the bathroom!" He threw out "Oh wow one of you is unconcious that's not good especially not while in bedrooms! Maybe I should stay"

Virgil looked at him as he was the biggest idiot on earth. A few spiders started to crawl up Remus' legs. He looked down at them and quickly shook them off before stomping on them.

"YOU FUCKER!" Virgil yelled. He shot up from the bed and closed his hands into fists. He nearly teared up at the sight of the dead spiders.

Remus took a step back and raised his hands "Hey kid I'm sorry but-"

He didn't say anything more. A harsh hit landed on the back of his neck. He immediately fell down on the ground.

The whole room was spinning. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Virgil moving to hug a person. He seemed to be lifted from the ground and spun around in the hug.

The last thing Remus heard before he passed out was Virgil happily letting out a "Jawsie!!"

#live and let die #sanders sides #not countdown #remus sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #intrusleep #resleep #remsleep #rem^2 #thomas sanders

3 notes · View notes

porcelineye · 4 years

Text

Commission for @fraulinekritzkrieg (Sniper x Fem!Medic OC)

Notes: I added an extra 200 words for you <3

A woman with red hair played the role of healing the other men. There was never a thank you or a god bless that got out of these old pricks, except for maybe Engie, but that was about it.

Sniper was a dirty old bastard, l had gone to extreme measures to peak at their Medics underwear. Every time he did it there was something new. He would tease her on the type of underwear she wore or make nicknames. “Aren’t you too old for bunnies,” The Sniper would torment her with these words. It couldn’t last forever right? Wrong.

Sniper had been telling the rest of the team about Maddy’s panties. The Medic eventually found out from the Scouts boasting and seedy commenting.

Maddy marched her way over to Snipers van, her light leather flats clapping along the dusty ground. She gritted her teeth, feeling more embarrassed than she had ever been. Everyone knew she wore Rabbit printed panties now. Before banging on his door, Maddy recoiled her fist and took a deep breath. She was a little intimidated by this man. He had never seen her riled up so much. Maddy pushed her hand to the door of his van and knocked lightly.

No answer. ‘Maybe he’s inside?’ Maddy thought, but yet again she banged her palm against the door one more time, harder than before. Before she could knock again, the door opened. “I heard ya’ the fir- Darl?” Sniper speared in the entrance, shirtless. “What brings lovely Miss Dottie to my quarters?” He smirked, leaning against to the side. “I wanna talk, Mr Mundy-“ “call me Mick,” he grinned, taking pride in interrupting her abruptly.

“Don’t call me that!” Maddy blushed. “How dare you tell Scout...and everyone else in the base!” She hissed, stepping up on the stairs.

“Whot do you mean?” Sniper chuckled, not taking her seriously enough. “STOP LOOKING UP MY SKIRT!!” Maddy yelled, tears welling in her eyes. Mundy was taken back by her aggressiveness.

The Sniper sighed and acted like he felt her pain. “Come inside, luv..” he moved away so she could come in. Maddy froze and looked up at him. “Why?” She asked. “I wanna give you a proper apology,” he stated, watching her come inside.

Maddy looked around the van. Jars were present, but they were clean and stored away neatly and none with piss in them. The walls had beautiful yellow and orange wallpaper in a funky pattern. Maddy studied the room some more. It smelled like lemon and wood, a very masculine smell for a masculine man.

“You like?” He said from the drivers seat. Maddy’s attention immediately went to him. “What are you-“ she was cut off by the van moving forward quickly. Maddy backed into the table, sitting down. “Sniper?!” A sense of panic in Maddy’s voice rose.

Sniper grumbled and continued to drive. “Where...where are you taking me!?” Maddy cried out. Sniper was silent. “Answer me, goddamnit!” She demanded. Sniper adjusted his revision mirror so their eyes were connected.

“That is for me to know and you to find out,” he gave a toothy grin. Maddy was too scared to get out of her seat, squeezed in the end of the table.

“I will tell Miss Pauling if you don’t let me go this instant!” Maddy spat quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

Sniper chuckled darkly. “Oh Darl, you wouldn’t wanna do that, trust me,” he smiled back at her.

“The last person who dobbed me in to my employer ended up at the bottom of the Great Barrier Reef,”

Maddy went cold. She gulped and stayed silent. She turned her head and looked out the window to see Mundy turning on the freeway.

“Please don’t hurt me,”

——

After a long tiring ride which spanned out for about maybe 2 hours which felt like 6 hours at least, Maddy felt the van stop, waking her up. She had been crying a little. Sniper didn’t hesitate and grabbed her by under her arm.

“I wonder what’s under your skirt today, Dottie,” his words gritted against Maddy’s skin. They made her so angry, she hit her heel against the ground, protesting a little.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” Sniper growled, pulling her towards the cabin. Maddy cried out and begged him. “Please! No!” She cried. Mundy rolled his eyes, getting irritated. He didn’t hesitate and grabbed her by her hair.

“Now listen here..” he tugged it harshly making her wince. “I won’t let go until you settle down, alright?” He said through clenched teeth.

Maddy whimpered, sniffling. She watched as Mundy let go and proceeded to carry her upstairs to a room. Her eyes wondered around the spacious room as Sniper laid her on the hard mattress.

Sniper didn’t waist any time getting to the point as he emptied a plastic bag next to her head. It contained handcuffs, lube and a ball gag. Maddy looked to her side and began shaking. Sniper smiled and got busy, tying her wrists to the headboard.

“Please don’t-“ Maddy stifled our before being gagged. Mundy admired his handy work, starting to feel very hard in his brown belle bottoms. He quickly pulled his clothes off, leaning over to do the same to Maddy.

Mundy smiled evilly as he slowly pulled her panties off, admiring the sight of her plump pussy. The Sniper promised to be slow and gentle with her, showing her the lube bottle before coating his fingers in it. Maddy gulped, trying time bite through the gag.

“Feel good?” He grumbled, slowly pushing his lubed up fingers inside her. Maddy winced, it hurt. “You’re very tight,” Sniper made sure to spread his fingers in far as possible.

Soon the ache turned into pleasure. Maddy closed her eyes and whimpered, trying to close her legs. His fingers felt so good inside her. Sniper began stroking his cock, moaning.

He showed her his size, making her gulp with mild fear.

“Here,” he slipped her gag off, allowing her to speak. “I want you to scream my name, got it?” He smirked before slipping his tool into her flower. “Ah-“ Maddy cried out, the pain shortly turning good. “Call me Mick,” he groaned, falling into a comfortable position on his knees.

“Mick...” she gasped as he picked up his pace. Sniper bucked his hips, tucking a strand of her red locks behind her ear. “It feels amazing, like you might just cream all over my cock,” he snickered.

Maddy blushed, wanting to look away. Her body started shaking before crying out in pleasure.“You like that?” He groaned, pounding her lightly. Her head was almost banging against the headboard.

“I’ll can pull out?” Sniper asked her. Maddy nodded, a common heat rising in her stomach and chest. “Ah~” she squealed before reaching her climax. Sniper smirked and pulled out of her, releasing himself on her stomach. The Huntsman sighed with pleasure, flopping beside Her.

“Not bad..not bad,” he sighed, sitting up to untie Maddy. “Oh my goodness..” she panted, laying on her side facing Mundy. “Ya’ really are beautiful, Darl,” he smiled, resting his head down next to her. Maddy smiled, following pursuit.

#tf2 #yandere #medic #ko-fi #commission #sniper #//nsfw//#oc #fem!medic

32 notes · View notes

renaroo · 4 years

Text

Super Brothers (2/12)

Disclaimer: Superman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Child Abuse, Gender Dysphoria, PTSD and Anxiety, Character Death Rating: T Synopsis: Jon Kent knew he pretty much had the perfect family life, but something still felt wrong with himself. At the height of feeling like an alien in his own skin, however, his world got turned upside down when his parents took in a troubled child who embodied everything he felt he lacked. However, becoming a brother ended up being the smallest of the trials brought by adopting Christopher Kent. And being best friends with Damian Wayne has not exactly helped keep a neutral perspective on the matter.

A/N: This is almost late and I apologize. I have no excuses other than my brain is turning into as much mush as everyone else’s. But I really am enjoying where the future of this story is going and am really excited to get there. But, first, we have to reach some difficult places first.

Before we go further, I must say this: TRIGGER WARNING. There is overt child abuse and child harm in this chapter. It’s not super detailed and it gets cut off, but I do not want people to get upset from it without warning. So please take care of yourself first and foremost.

I’m blown away by the support this fic is getting so far and I appreciate you all so very much! Special thanks to the lovely comments and promotion from @secretlystephaniebrown, @spiralcass, @noartificialfruitjuice, @fred-astairs-dark-impulses, @karagordon, and elietrope on AO3 and tumblr!

Chapter Two: Pay in Full

Damian isn’t surprised when he is the lone attendant of breakfast the following morning. His wrists are still bruised up and a little painful from his restraints, but he ignores them under the cuffs of his school uniform and is the picture of polite society and manners. He eats confidently and alone.

It isn’t unusual, only disappointing.

Fortunately, Alfred is nothing if not an excellent reader of the atmosphere and does not force conversation or dullness on Damian that is unwarranted. He leaves the youngest Wayne to a peaceful meal.

The quiet makes it easier for Damian to overhear Alfred conversing just a step or so into the hall.

“Ah, Miss Cassandra, it is unusual to see you up and about at such an hour,” Alfred’s voice carries with a genuine mix of praise and surprise.

“Yeah, um,” Cass mutters, speech slurred with sleep, “can you, um, take me? Soon? He wanted to talk to me.”

“But of course. I can take you as I take Master Damian to the academy this morning.”

Starring toward the door, Damian lets his oatmeal slip off of his spoon and carelessly plop back into the bowl. He doesn’t even pay attention to the splashes of oats which end up on Alfred’s meticulously cared for table runner. He’ absorbed by the implications of the conversation happening in front of him.

After an encounter with Professor Pyg which ended as eventfully as his did, Damian anticipated some negative news getting to either his father or Grayson. And while Damian didn’t want for Dick to hear about Damian’s poor performances without him, there was at least some trust.

Grayson would be annoyingly supportive and want to use the entire event as some sort of learning experience.

Father is something else entirely.

After a few moments of subconsciously holding his breath, Damian glances down to his oatmeal and finds it suddenly subpar.

He pushes out from the table, chair legs protesting loudly, and tosses the handkerchief from his lap onto the table. Damian is on his feet and in the hall before Cassandra even has time to leave Alfred and redress herself for the day.

“Alfred, I do not need to attend the academy today,” he announces.

The butler tilts his head slightly and raises his eyebrows minutely. “I believe the education system would disagree with you entirely.”

“I have things to discuss with Father,” Damian elaborates stiffly. “Important information that outweighs any supposed social-developments I am pretending to make.”

Cassandra scratches at her jawline and frowns at Damian. She’s assessing him, her dark eyes boring into Damian’s soul and evaluating every tremor of his muscle.

Which makes it even more annoying that her choice of commentary is to say, “Bad at it. Pretending,” she jokes.

“Silence, you,” Damian hisses ferally. “The entire first year I lived here, I had to listen to everyone talk about you and never once did they mention your sass.”

She offers a half-shrug. “Forgot the best part.”

“Tt, more like the worst,” Damian teeters, hands on his hips.

For a moment, Cassandra seems to be ignoring him as she looks over Damian’s head at Alfred and rotates her shoulders. “Maybe shouldn’t go to school,” she offers, surprising Damian entirely.

Alfred seems just as taken by the suggestion and looks at her suspiciously. “Why so, Miss Cassandra?”

“Had a bad night,” she explains. “Probably does have important stuff to say.”

Heat flushes into Damian’s face. His eyes glaze into a distinct red hue and his shoulders tremble as he clutches his hands into fists by his side. There is almost certainly steam coming off of him as anger overtakes him in a way that it hasn’t for ages now.

“How dare you!” he roars.

All too casually, Cassandra glances down to Damian and raises an eyebrow at him. She doesn’t say anything with words.

“How dare you assume so much about me! You don’t even know me!” Damian continues, bringing his fists up as if ready to brawl. “Perhaps what I’m going to do is while you wish to tattle to Father, I’ll tell him the truth about how you are nothing but an interference here in Gotham! That you do not deserve to trespass on my affairs! And that absolutely everyone wishes you would bugger off again so that everyone can go back to the way things were!”

“Master Damian, that is enough!” Alfred says coolly. He never raises his voice, but he never needs to.

Despite himself, Damian snaps his jaw closed. But he doesn’t stop glaring into Cassandra’s face, her eyes. His anger is still boiling over, no matter how much he’s contained it.

Cassandra looks back at him, her face drawn and unreadable.

It makes Damian even more upset.

“That is no way to speak to anyone, certainly not family,” Alfred reminds Damian. “Considering your injuries—“

“I am not injured that gravely, Pennyworth!” Damian sputters again.

“—I can see the benefit to a day of recuperation from school, so long as we do not continue this theme habitually,” Alfred persists. “We will leave for your father’s office as soon as Miss Cassandra is ready to leave. And we will not leave a moment sooner than that.” He looks to Cassandra and pats her shoulder. It’s the only thing that gets her to pull her gaze away from Damian. “I encourage you to get ready for the day at your leisure, my dear.”

After that, the conversation is over, and Damian ends up sitting in the foyer waiting for the better part of an hour as Cass does just as Alfred insisted.

***

“There he is!”

Jon is still wiping at his eyes as he stumbles through the apartment. It’s difficult, in these early mornings, for him to focus on appropriate amounts of strength, so he shoulders into furniture a touch too hard or bangs into the doorframe with enough force to send pictures lined down the walls tumbling down.

Some things that are less natural to him since his coming into power, like flight or his special types of vision, take more effort and alertness. Not his super strength, however fortunately or unfortunately.

He stumbles his way into the kitchen, his feet padding over the shift from hardwood to tile. He can smell the scrambled eggs before his dad even set them on Jon’s prepared plate.

At the table across from Jon is his mom, already in a beautiful silk top with a gold necklace of large geometric squares. Her chin-length hair is curlier than usual which means she hasn’t straightened it. Her lashes are long, nearly swooping down to her cheeks as she looks down to her iPad as she reads. When she takes her cup away from her lips, a dark purple lip stain is left behind on it.

Jon admires her for a moment, scooting into his seat but not pulling up to the table.

“Good morning, honey,” his mom says full of affection. Her violet eyes glance up to his face.

“Good morning,” Jon says back, smiling brightly.

“Leave walking room, champ,” his dad says from behind. Before Jon can even think, two massive hands close in around the edges of Jon’s backrest, then his whole chair is lifted and scooted up until Jon’s chest nearly bumps the table.

“Sorry, Pa,” Jon says automatically, sparing a glance as his father moves over and plants himself in one of the two chairs between Jon and his mom.

Even in a collared shirt and sweater vest, Jon can see what a massive shadow his father leaves for him. He is broad-shouldered and firm, even with his softness. He has a body that exudes power and strength. It’s only with folded in shoulders and deflated presentation that Clark Kent can convince the world there is a difference between himself and Superman.

At home, among family, as Pa, Jon knows his dad is unmistakably Superman.

When Pa’s large hands reach for his cup of orange juice or poke at scrambled eggs with a fork, it makes Jon look at his own hands.

They’re thin, nimble hands. Soft.

Mom has said on more than one occasion that with fingers as long as his, Jon needs to either learn piano or practice keyboard typing. And Jon is certain he has no ear for tunes.

“I almost came to get you a second time, young man,” Pa says between bites of eggs. “I warned you before about staying up late. I know there are plenty of things an eleven-year-old boy thinks are cooler than sleep.”

Curling his nose, Jon shifts uncomfortably. “I’m almost twelve now,” he reminds them. “You said I could push curfew when I turned twelve.”

“And you’re still not twelve,” Mom says, closing out the tabs on her iPad. She looks very seriously at Jon. “And it doesn’t matter what age you are, my mother’s intuition tells me you’re watching scary movies with the Wayne kid again.”

“No, I wasn’t!” Jon squeaks. “I promise I wasn’t!”

“You had nightmares last night, Jon. We share a wall with your room,” Pa says, face the picture of sympathetic. “And it’s okay to have nightmares sometimes, but you’ve been having them a lot lately. Something like that would usually require something scaring you.”

“Like movies,” Mom adds, still eyeing Jon suspiciously. “Is it Gotham? Maybe we shouldn’t let you go to Gotham so much. Especially this time of year. I hate that stuck-up little island, Clark. No wonder he’s scared.”

“Wait, no, it’s not anything to do with Gotham or movies or Damian,” Jon argues emphatically.

Both of Jon’s parents stop and do the thing Jon has come to hate most during their meals. They look up, toward one another, and seemingly carry out an entire conversation with each other through micro expression alone. It would be adorable if they weren’t his parents.

Jon decides to take the time to begin shoveling in his eggs. His dad’s cooking may be simple but it’s always filling.

“Do you want to talk about these nightmares you’re having, Jon?” Pa asks gently. “You and your body have been put through a lot of changes very quickly over the past year or so. You’ve gotten your own powers, you’ve moved schools twice, your mother and I both are back at full time. That’s a lot.”

He chews over his father’s words for a long moment and considers them.

For most of his young life, Jon Kent has been able to tell his parents positively everything on his mind. They are loving, supportive good people. The best people. Whether they’re superheroes or super reporters, they make Jon proud with almost every second of every day.

But his nightmares make his throat fill closed and tight in ways that are impossible to express. He likes to think they could know, but it feels like they couldn’t.

They couldn’t know how certain words or certain looks or certain things make him feel like he’s crawled into someone else’s skin. Like he’s been lying to everyone on accident this whole time. That what people see him as is undeserved.

What could he ever say to explain that?

Not to mention, explaining that he was patrolling in Gotham and got captured by some madman like Professor Pyg is probably worth far more trouble than simply admitting to scary movies with Damian.

“I don’t remember them,” Jon lies through his teeth.

“That can happen,” Pa says warmly.

When Jon looks up, it’s unsurprising to see that his mother’s face is fairly neutral. She looks at him worriedly and unconvinced.

If she plans on saying anything, however, the moment eludes her. Her iPad lights up simultaneously with the default ding of her phone. She glances at them both before getting to her feet. She’s a full inch taller in her heels and wearing Jon’s favorite skirt of hers.

“Clark, are you going to take Jon this morning?” she asks. “I can use it to excuse you from any early bellows from Perry.”

“Of course,” Pa says, leaning back and tilting his head for the optimal kissing angle.

Mom comes around the table and ducks down, holding back her hair delicately as she kisses Jon’s forehead. “Have a good day, hun, I love you.”

“Bye, Mom, you look beautiful,” Jon informs her as she leaves.

He watches her go and takes a breath. His gaze is only broken when his dad holds his glasses out in front of his vision.

“Don’t forget these,” Pa reminds him.

“Oh, thanks,” Jon mutters, taking the thick frames. His motion is stopped, though, as his father doesn’t let go. He glances back up to Pa and raises a brow.

“Jon, do you know how polygraphs work?” Pa asks, still not letting go of the glasses.

“Um, not really,” Jon admits.

“They measure your heartbeat, because if someone’s not a good liar then they will increase their heart rate, and the machine records it,” Pa explains as he finally lets go of Jon’s glasses.

Despite himself, Jon’s heart picks up its pace. He glances down to his lap. “Do you always listen to my heartbeat?”

“Since before you were born,” Pa says softly, running his broad hand over Jon’s hair. His thumb strums the locks affectionately. “And you thought I was the easy parent, huh?”

“I just don’t want to talk about my nightmares yet,” Jon explains worriedly.

“That’s okay,” Pa assures him, letting go of Jon’s hair. “But I’d appreciate you not lying to me or your mother.”

Jon frowns. “I won’t, Pa, I promise. Sorry I did.” He glances toward his mother’s seat and notices her coffee mug sitting where she left it. Her purple lipstick is still staining the side. “Do you listen to mom’s heartbeat?”

“Practically since the day I met her,” Pa laughs, picking up both of their finished plates. “I always listen out for the hearts of the people I love. It’s,” he pauses in thought before continuing his walk to the sink, “it’s comforting to know everyone’s safe.”

Humming some, Jon puts his chin on the kitchen table and focuses. His mom should be in the elevator on her way down. If he uses his x-ray vision he could even watch her. But instead, he listens. It’s hard to focus on the beat alone, to isolate it. It could give him a headache until he’s better at it. But Jon can do it.

It’s one of many things he can do, he can be because of his father — a polygraph.

But as he listens for his mother’s heart, Jon wonders if there are more things he can do and be because of his mother.

“Pa, it’s a good thing to want to be more like mom, right?” Jon asks before he can stop himself.

His pa lets out a deep laugh over the running water in the sink. “Jon, everyone wants to be more like your mother. It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

And that, Jon decides, is comforting.

***

Lor-Zod learns through the sunstones in silence. His eyes are transfixed on their histories and piloting and mathematics, but his mind is distantly occupied.

His mother has stood vigilant at the door, unmoving, the entire morning. She has not greeted him yet, has not introduced herself to him. Standing, quietly, scathingly.

The moment Lor finishes his aeronautics lesson, he feels his mother’s hand close around his wrist. He is reaching for the next lesson, but she is suddenly upon him, stopping him. Her face is mere centimeters from his own. Her nose snarls.

“You are summoned, Lor,” she tells him, as though he should already know.

“Where, mother?” he barely has air in his lungs to ask before he is jerked into the air and guided through the halls of their palace.

As they travel swiftly through their palace, Lor notices for the first time that he has not seen servants or even heard servants all morning. That is beyond unusual, and it makes their giant crystalline halls even more empty than normal.

Something sits unsettled and worrisome in Lor’s chest. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“What are we doing, mother?” Lor attempts again, voice tight with fear.

“Is a child to speak out of turn?” she asks angrily, her brown hair whipping across her face as she looks over her shoulder.

Lor obediently shakes his head. “No,” he answers.

“Then you have no turn,” she informs him. When she looks ahead once more, her fingers tighten around his wrist. “There is a lesson to be learned today.”

Silence overtakes Lor as they reach the grand hall and entrance of their palace. There still are no servants to be seen, and there is also no sign of the general. Every hair on Lor’s body stands on end as he realizes just how wrong everything is set up to be.

But he cannot even force himself to speak. He knows better. His body knows better.

As they bound out of the giant doors to their palace, Lor realizes that they are opening up to an enormous gathering. There are purple-skinned Jekuul natives for as far as Lor’s unaided vision can see. They all face forward, toward the intimidating staircase to the palace’s entrance. And to the general.

General Zod does not even turn his shoulders toward Lor and his mother as they come to his side. He is facing forward, over the crowd.

Lor is positioned harshly, stood in front of his mother. She swiftly shifts her hand from his wrist to his shoulder, her other hand matching it. They grip him fiercely, nails clicking against the Kryptonian armor beneath.

When Lor looks up to his mother’s face, he can only see her chin as it faces the general obediently.

Then, when Lor follows her gaze, he lets out a soft gasp.

They are not the only ones standing on the stairs. There is also a familiar, tiny purple girl in his father’s grips.

“Ti’ahl? What’s she doing here?” Lor asks before his mother’s grip becomes even more constricting. He feels his chest freeze up, his heart pounding again.

“You are out of turn, child,” she hisses down at him. “Watch.”

Swallowing, Lor looks back to the General.

The General seems satisfied after Lor falls silent, and he begins speaking out in a tongue so strange but familiar. His voice booms and echoes over the silent crowds below. He’s speaking in Jakuul, Lor knows that much, but still not what his father is saying.

For a moment, Lor tries. He tries desperately to understand what is being said, but none of it makes sense. There aren’t even the familiar possibilities of understanding like he had with Ti’ahl just the day before.

Thinking of Ti’ahl, Lor glances down from his father’s face to where Ti’ahl stands trembling in the General’s grip.

She looks paler than yesterday, her purple skin lighter in the face and almost blue in her cheeks. Her big, dark eyes are tear-filled and sunken, her hair messy. It occurs to Lor that she is wearing the exact same clothes that he last saw her in.

Only at that moment does Lor realize she never made it home last night. But he can’t imagine why.

Deep down, Lor wishes to speak to her, to comfort her, to offer his cape once more, but she doesn’t even have it now. Lor wonders, idly, where it might be.

The General’s voice picks up in fervor, growing in a tempo as the crowds below become unsettled.

Lor doesn’t know what to think, what’s going on when he sees his father wrench Ti’ahl’s arm back and up into the air at a frightening angle. It makes the little girl scream in shock and begins crying, tugging.

Not sure what is going on, Lor opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

With a flick of his wrist, the General turns Ti’ahl’s arm completely upside down and a hideous snap echoes through the hot Jekuul air.

Stunned, Lor stares at his father and at the little girl he played with yesterday. The air erupts with high pitched squeals and sobs from the crowds below. Ti’ahl herself hangs limply unconscious, only held up by the General’s tremendous grip on her arm.

His mother holds him down with so much force, Lor feels as though he will sink through the stairs. He can’t look at her, can’t hear her past the thundering pulse in his own ears. He stares only at his father who is happily soaking in the shock and awe of the crowds.

Then, Lor snaps.

All he can see is red and then his father’s shoulder is smoking, singed.

And, for the first time since the night before, General Zod looks at Lor.

“I am disappointed, Faora,” the General says angrily. “You assured me that our child was being raised in the traditions of Krypton. Are those traditions not that punishments are handled by the mother?”

“They are,” Lor’s mother says, aghast, before yanking Lor into the palace doors.

Lor hits the floor before he even sees the smack coming. And it is only the first.

He hardly feels any of it, numb to everything with the sound of that crack echoing throughout his whole body.

#Damian Wayne #Chris Kent #Jon Kent #Cassandra Cain #Alfred Pennyworth #Lois Lane #Clark Kent #General Zod #Ursa #writing #super fic #Super: Super Brothers

33 notes · View notes

tsarinastorm · 4 years

Text

Same World-Adam Sackler/Reader- Chapter 3

Explicit: SMUT

Part 2 of So We Beat On Series

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

It was a rainy day in the city, and you were mentally debating on whether or not to go to Adam’s today. He invited you over to work on some more of his writing, but you knew what would really happen: you’d work on the writing for a half an hour then you’d be fucking on some surface of his apartment, nap, and then eat. But it was also more than that, you’d end up talking about everything not related to writing, the company was nice, it made you feel less alone. Marnie knew you were seeing someone, or that you were at least fucking someone but she had never asked you who it was. You wonder if she knew but just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You hadn’t talked to Jessa since you gave her advice, and you had hung out with Hannah but kept the fact that you were fucking her ex-boyfriend to yourself. You really liked Adam, but you would never admit that to anyone, especially not to him. Marnie was out spending time with Charlie again, so you were left on your own to decide whether to do the right thing and work on your own writing, or go over to Adam’s.

You knew it was wrong on some level considering that Adam had dated two of your friends, but you couldn’t stop. You had always considered yourself a sexually open person but you had never felt this sexually liberated. There wasn’t any position or kink that was off limits, you were working through each of your fantasy lists. You had fucked on every surface of his apartment, tried new toys, and even fucked in a public museum behind one of the exhibits, together you were both insatiable. And you found yourself knocking on the door to Adam’s apartment.

“Hey sunshine,” he responds when he answers the door, and of course, he isn’t wearing a shirt, for whatever reason. You walk in slowly, and head over to table to work on the writing. Adam offers you a cup of coffee, which you accept. As you read slowly, you notice Adam watching you but every time you look up to him, he’s looking away. When you finally get to reading his work again, you pick up on a detail that either you didn’t care about before or didn’t notice: he dated a fifty-four year old.

“Hold on, you dated a fifty-four year old?” There’s shock in your voice that you can’t hide no matter how you try. Adam raises his eyebrows at you as he answers, “Yes, does that bother you?”

“No, I was just surprised. Never took you for that type.” He chuckles at your comment and states, “Older woman and younger woman are better to date. It’s the ones in between that are the problem.”

“Oh really? The same can be said about men. It’s the middle ones that cause all the trouble.” You challenge back and your body leans in towards where Adam’s sitting. He runs his hand down from his top lip down to his chin, wearing a slight smile. “Go ahead and ask the damn question, I can tell you want to.”

There’s both challenge and amusement in his voice. In your head, you’re trying to rationalize Adam dating a woman that much older than him, you had always thought him to be the type to only date young, hot women. This notion also sent a surge of jealousy through you even though you knew it was irrational and you had no reason to feel that way. You finally break down and ask, “What was the sex like? Was it good?”

“Incredible. She worked out all the time. There was no position she didn’t want to fuck from.” He says and you feel his hand on your knee, leaving a hot path as it moves slowly up your thigh. You lock eyes with his honey ones that are now blown black with lust. Deciding to play his game, you place your hand on his thigh, lightly rubbing it as it went higher. His hands halts on your upper thigh as he closes in on you, but keeps his face and his lips from yours. You’re too mesmerized by the proximity of his face and by your brain thinking how to one-up when you can’t get much closer without kissing him. Then his hand is gingerly squeezing your breast and you let out an unexpected whimper.

You can’t let him have the upper hand like this so you take one of your hands to his hair and gently pull while your other hand moves from his thigh to his crotch. Your fingers trace his growing erection and you whisper, “Was it really good?”

“The best.” He says before he grunts in response to your touch. Your eyes never waver from his and as you exhale his lips crash unto yours. His lips tenderly press into your bottom one before he pushes deeper. Your tongue dances along his lip, seeking entrance. Adam’s hands move behind your back to pull you onto his lap. Once on his lap, his large hands make their way to your ass, and give it a smack. You fidget on his lap and end up grinding into him. His hand cups your mound, the heel of palm presses into your clit giving you the much needed friction. He decides that’s not enough and unbuttons your jeans to move his hand inside. His fingers delve inside your underwear, he plays with your clit then thrusts two of his fingers inside your slit. The palm of his hand goes back to grind into your clit at the pace of his fingers.

“You take my fingers so good, but you’ll take my cock better.” Adam says and you can feel his words on the skin of your cheek. Nibbling on his ear, you tell him, “You want me to touch your cock?”

“Fuck yes touch my cock.” He shouts. You try to warn off your climax to take back some control, and to reciprocate. Your hands go to unbutton his jeans, and pull his partially-hard cock out. You spit on your hand before placing it around his shaft, slowly moving up and down then teasing the head.

“You like it when I touch your cock like this?” You purr and you hear a breathy ‘yes’ from him then you ask, “Are you going to fuck with your cock?”

He works his fingers on you, you pump him and soon your paces match. The tips of his fingers hit that special part of your walls and his palm is working a steady rhythm on your clit. You moan as you come and slump against him as he tells you, “I love it when you come apart for me like that.”

He places his arms under your bottom and picks you up, walking towards the bedroom. Once he’s thrown you on the bed, you pull him down for a kiss. All of the clothes, his and yours, are rapidly discarded onto the floor. Soon, you’re on your hands and knees on his bed naked with him behind you, his cock teasing your entrance. He thrusts into you quickly and you both moan when he’s fully sheathed. He leans over you so you can feel his shoulder brush yours, and can feel each thrust reverberate through you in a way you never felt before. You tell him, “Faster and harder.”

“You want me to faster and harder?” He asks and emphasizes his question as he drills into you, making the bed bang against the wall. You answer, “Fuck yes.”

He continues his movements, and you think you can come just from the force of his thrusts. You’ve never felt more primal or animalistic, but in the best way. This is what fucking is supposed to be like you think to yourself. When you think to move your hand to your clit, Adam’s voice makes you pause.

“Ugh I’m gonna cum but I want to feel you cum on cock. I want you to scream for me. Let everyone in the neighborhood know what a whore you are.” He lifts up to kneel behind you as his left hand grips your hip and his right goes to your clit. As he draws circles on your clit, you can feel your high build as the tingle washes through your legs. You moan loudly as you arch your back while you climax. Adam gives some encouragement while maintaining his brutal pace drilling into you, “Now the neighbors will know how good I fuck you.”

You lean down so your head rests on the pillow, Adam continues thrusting into you until you feel his cock twitch inside of you. He groans as comes, and lays down next to you. You’re still too worn out to move, he places his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him.

Later, after you’d both got out of a not-so-chaste shower, you plop down on his couch as he brings you a bowl of chicken and rice he’s made. His hair is still damp and he only has on his briefs, and you’ve never been so interested in watching someone cook. You’re wearing one of his shirts and have your hair tied up in a bun, he’d been rambling on about his past relationships and liasions. You’d ask him for follow-up since you now wondered what other stories he had.

“Basically your love life is like Hemingway or Fitzgerald on crack. But seriously, you are so lucky because that is the kind of inspiration or source material that artists would die for.”

“Eh alright. You’re an artist, why don’t you make me your muse?”

“I don’t use muses when writing. If anything, I’m the current muse in your string of women.” He laughs and you both eat your meals. Once you’ve finished washing the bowls, you snuggle into him on the couch, and before you find something to watch, his phone rings.

“You getting that pussy pounded?” You turn to look at him, because now you’re curious as to who he says that to. His face turns into a frustrated frown as he continues talking.

“Shit…well yeah I guess I can watch her tomorrow. Okay, bye.” He says ending the call, then he throws the phone on the floor, “Shit. Fucking Christ. Always.”

“What was that about?” You question, as he paces the room, punching the air. He finally responds, “That was my sister, Caroline. Of course she’s on the verge of another breakdown and I need to watch my niece tomorrow.”

“Oh sorry, do you need help with anything? And I don’t want to ask too much, but does she have these moments often?” Your hand pats the spot on the couch next to you, hoping that he’ll come over to sit beside you and maybe open up to you. You want to be there for him, and give him someone to talk to. When he does sit down, you gently place your arm around his shoulders and gently rub his neck, and upper back. He apparently likes that because he melts into your chest. Without looking at you, he answers, “She’s always been unstable. It was really bad after she had Sample then she seemed to better but now she’s spiraling again.”

You angle yourself so you’re now laying back on the couch with Adam on top of you with his head resting on your chest. He opens up about Caroline’s history of instability, how she raised him, and how they have a tumultuous relationship. He had mentioned some of it before, but it mostly in passing. You listen to him, and give encouragement when needed. You attempt to soothe him with the fact that every family has problems. His relationship history makes a lot more sense now that you know more about his past and dysfunctional family. You feel bad for judging him for it in the past. True made mistakes but relationships are always messy.

He calms down but doesn’t move from his position on your chest, instead his hand plays with the ends of your hair, and you gently scratch his scalp then run your fingers through his hair. Then you hear a beeping noise and realize that it’s your phone going off. When you reach for it, you notice that it’s a missed call from Hannah and a text from Jessa. You sigh and you’re feeling torn because you think you have something unique with Adam, even if it’s just sex, and yet you don’t want to be that friend that ditches friendships for men. You stand up to start gathering your things, when you’re near the door, Adam’s hand holds your arm to stop you. He leans down to kiss you, and you can’t help but kiss back. As you pull away you tell him, “I need time to think about this, whatever this is.”

He stares back and just says, “Okay. I don’t like it, but if that’s what you need then I’ll see ya when I see ya.” You walk out of the apartment and head back to your place but you take a detour to sit in the park for a while. You wonder if you’re making the right decision.

***************************************************

It’s been four days since you left Adam’s apartment, and you hadn’t heard from him or reached out to him. It was strange not seeing him, because you had been spending everyday together but now you needed time to clear your head. You had honestly that time apart would dull your feelings and make you realize that it wasn’t something special. Instead, the opposite happened: he was all you could think about and you actually missed him.

Today, you were going dress shopping with Shoshanna and Hannah. You hoped that seeing them would help you realize that you made the right decision to give yourself space from Adam. You were currently trying on some pretty atrocious bridesmaid dresses. Marnie and the other bridesmaids weren’t available today, so you and Hannah were the bridesmaid guinea pigs. When you try on a one-shoulder coral dress, Shosh looks happy and says she loves it. Hannah meanwhile, doesn’t look impressed before commenting, “Well this could be a lot worse.”

After agreeing on the bridesmaid dresses, the three of you head to a bakery for some coffee and snacks. You get a raspberry scone, your favorite, while Hannah eats a cupcake and Shosh gets a croissant. Shosh is talking about some self-help book she’s just read, “It really made me realize that life is too short to be miserable or give up on things that make you happy. I mean we only get one chance, so why not be happy, and screw what anyone else says.”

That’s pretty bold coming from Shosh, she’s speaking so resolutely, but you agree. You nod your head with a mouthful of scone as Hannah adds, “I totally agree. If something makes you happy to be alive, then do it, and don’t apologize for it. That’s such a problem, especially for women: we apologize for things that we shouldn’t have to be sorry for. Or we live our dictated by other’s opinions.”

Those comments make you think about things you apologize for, or things that you’ve given up in attempt to please other people. Your mind immediately goes to Adam: you had iced him out and walked away from the connection you had, because you were afraid of what Hannah or Jessa would feel. You realize that you can’t stay away from Adam anymore: you would see where things went with him and not feel bad about it again. You decide that you’re going to go over to his apartment tonight. Shosh and Hannah watch you, waiting for your response, you oblige with, “Yeah, you guys are right. I agree.”

Before you leave, you make a trip to a lingerie store, and decide to head to the salon. Shosh joins you, and you feel the happiest you’ve felt in a long time.

***********************************************

Adam tries reading the script to review before his big Ars Nova audition, but he can’t focus. He then then attempts to practice his lines for his cabaret group, but he can’t focus on that either. It had been like this ever since Y/N said she needed time to think about them. She had said it was just sex, but then it didn’t feel like just sex and Adam let himself hope that they had something more than that. She hadn’t contacted him in several days and he was giving her space, even though it was driving him crazy. He had been crazy for her ever since he met her, even though they argued most of the time. He should have known that someone like her would never feel the same way about him, or if she did, she’d repress her feelings so she wouldn’t hurt Hannah or Jessa.

He wants to throw something, to see something break, but he’s been working on keeping his anger in check. He decides it’s time to start working on carpentry again so he goes to get his material. When gets the toolbox laid out on the table, he hears a knock on the door. He curses in response, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

He opens the door to find Jessa, he’s shocked but determined to not let her inside his apartment. She looks less disheveled than she did last time, and Adam hopes this is a good sign that maybe she’s getting closure.

“Look, I miss you. I really miss you. I want to be with you. I want what we have back, and I’ll wait for you if that’s what I have to do.” She confesses resolutely and watches for his reaction.

“Jessa, it’s really over. Completely over. I’ve moved on with my life, and we weren’t healthy for each other.” Adam says hoping that she will understand his point, though she’s proven how stubborn she is yet again.

“You’ve made your point! We’re bad together, you can do better, and whatever other shit you’re trying to prove!” Jessa shouts, and Adam can tell this isn’t going to go well, but it never does with them.

“I’m not trying to prove anything Jessa!”

“Okay, I get it. You’re hanging out with Y/N who’s way better than anyone else you’ve ever been with, and I’ll admit it makes me jealous. Now that I’ve admitted that, can you admit that you’re just hanging out with her to get back at me?” Jessa says and lights a cigarette. Adam thinks that Jessa must be back on drugs because his situation with Y/N has absolutely nothing to do with her, and she’s deluded herself into thinking that it is.

“You are either fucking delusional or back on drugs! It has nothing to do with, nothing I do in my life has anything to do with you! Could you fucking understand that?” He shouts back at her. She tells him, “Fuck you!” then she walks away but still flips him off on her way.

Adam thinks about what Jessa said about Y/N and wonders if that’s why she froze him out. Maybe Y/N thinks that he’s just using her to get back at Jessa, or just some piece of ass. He’s respected Y/N’s space and gave her time, but now he’s going to talk to her. If she rejects, then she rejects him, but he has to try to tell her how he really feels about her.

***********************************************

You look yourself over in the mirror. The new lingerie you bought looks fantastic, and your hair looks fresh from the blowout at the salon. You’ve applied your makeup so you have slightly winged liner and red lips. Now, you’ve just got to get over to Adam’s and tell him that you’re tired of staying away from him. You put on your heels, and put on your trench coat. When you’re about to leave, you glance down at your phone and notice that you have an incoming call. It’s Adam.

“Hello.” You answer

“Hey, are you home?” He asks.

“Yeah, are you?” You answer inquisitively. He lets out a breath before asking, “Will you let me in?”

“Wait, are you here?” You ask and glance toward your balcony.

“Come to your window or balcony thing.” He says and you follow his instructions. When you walk out and look down, you see him still on his phone. He gives you a short wave, you smile and wave back. You go to buzz him in, and once he’s at your door, he checks you out.

“Damn, you look really nice. Were you going somewhere?” He asks you, and you tell him the truth.

“I was going to see you. We need to talk.” You tell him, but he still stands in the doorway and doesn’t follow you inside. You stand in the other half of the doorway and wonder what he’s doing here.

“Look I need to say this, and I need you to let me say it. You’re not just some random fuck, and you’re not just some way to get back at Jessa or Hannah. You’re something else entirely. Jessa showed up and said she wanted to be with me again but I told her I couldn’t. I couldn’t because of how I feel about you. I hope that even if you don’t want to fuck anymore, that we could still hang out because I like spending time with you.” He says and it takes you a moment to process everything he just said.

“I like spending time with you too. I’m into you. You make me feel glad to be alive and I feel so alive when I’m with you. I feel like you get me in a way that no one else does and I think I get you too.” You confess, and before you can take a breath, Adam’s lips are crashing into yours. He slams the door shut behind him and wraps his arms around your waist as your arms fly around his neck. Your bodies press together, as if even a centimeter between you is too much. His strong arms move down to cup your ass, then tap on it, and you get the hint and jump to wrap your arms around your waist.

You use your arms to direct him to your bedroom as you pepper kisses on his cheek and neck. Once inside your room, he throws you down on the bed and is on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours and his lips attach to your neck. You run your hands through his hair and you’re about to get lost in the moment, but then you remember the lingerie you’re wearing. You place your hands on his chest to signal for him to stop, then you move out from under him. He looks both confused and disappointed, so you reassure him, “Uh no I’m not stopping, I just want to show you something.”

Seductively, you untie the belt of the trench, before slowly undoing the buttons. You then let it drop from your shoulders, revealing your black lace bra, thong, garter, and tights. Adam’s mouth drops in responses as his eyes run over, before they turn black with lust. The look he gives you is absolutely obscene, he then tells you, “Get your sexy ass back here right now.”

He pulls you back to the bed and you’re suddenly underneath him again. He kisses down your neck and gets right in between your breasts and says, “If I don’t fuck you within the next five minutes I might die.”

You move your arms to unhook your bra, revealing your chest to him. He begins kissing from your collarbone down to envelope your nipple in his mouth while his hand caresses your other breast. He then switches and attacks your other breast with his mouth. You’re already soaking wet and you find yourself grinding against hardening cock for friction. You pull him up to give him a kiss before tugging the ends of his shirt. He obliges and takes off his shirt, then it’s your turn to kiss his collarbone before teasing his nipple which makes him groan. He then takes control again and kisses down your stomach, then right before he gets to your mound he moves to kiss your thighs. The suspense is getting to you, and he makes you wait before hooking your underwear with his thumbs and pulling them off.

He buries his head in between your folds, tasting all of you. He licks a few broad stripes up your slit before tracing along your clit with the slightest pressure. It’s still enough to make you buck your hips against him as your fingers wrap around his hair. He moves down to tease your entrance with his tongue while his nose bumps your clit giving you just enough friction. Before you can start moving your hips against him again, he attaches to your clit, sucks on your nub, then he moves his tongue in a horizontal line, hitting your clit from every angle. He alternates between adding pressure with his tongue and sucking on your clit, until you’re reeling from your orgasm. You let out a short scream, rolling your head on your shoulders, and arching your back against the bed. It feels like your body is shaking and has electric current running through it. Every orgasm was a good orgasm but damn that was on another level.

You can’t help but lay there for a moment while Adam’s head remains between your thighs, licking up everything you have to offer. He moves up so he’s on top of you, and gives you a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and your hands go to unbutton his pants. He angles his hips to allow you to take his pants and briefs off, then stands up long enough to throw them completely off. You grab him, and take his cock in your hands. He stops you when you move your head down, telling you, “I want to be inside you.”

You lay on your back and spread your legs as he settles in. His cock sits on your folds before he hitches your leg on hip. He kisses you as he enters you, you both moan as he continues moving all the way in. He begins thrusting and fuck that angle feels amazing.

“Fuck that feels good.” You say and he responds, “Ah, does my dirty slut like the way I fuck her?”

“Yes I love the way you fuck me.” You say back. He keeps drilling into you before he moves your other leg to hitch around him too.

“I bet you missed me fucking you.” He sputters out in between thrusts, before adding, “You probably touched yourself thinking about me fucking you again.”

You moan in response because the way he’s angled your hips, you can feel every thrust go straight to your clit. His hand goes to your clit as his hips keep thrusting, and soon you’re falling apart again. You can feel the tingle spread, your toes curling and you let out a whimper. Adam removes your legs from his hips and he’s leaning on top of you, his lips at your neck. You twine your hands around his neck and hold him as he enters you a few more times before you feel him spill into you. You both pant and lie still as you recover.

“So look, I don’t do traditional dating, it’s pointless and shallow. You don’t actually see or know who the person is. I don’t even know if I want a relationship at this point in my life. But I like what we have now.” You tell him while you’re both still lying in bed. For whatever reason, you think you need to define or attempt to define your relationship. He turns over so he’s propped up on his elbow, facing you, and his free hand traces down your arm, and hitches to your side. He pulls you closer to him, so now you’re faces are nearly pressed together. You find yourself distracted by his lips, but then you’re brought back to reality when he responds.

“So…friends with benefits plus a little more emotion?” He asks and his amber flicker up to yours. You place your hand on his chest as you answer his question.

“Yeah, I mean no obligations or anything. But I’d like to stay monogamous for sexual hygiene reasons.” You say in an almost whisper and snuggle your body into his.

“Okay, sunshine. I don’t do labels anyway, they’re bullshit.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone and clutches you to him. You feel his lips press a kiss on the crown of your head, and you close your eyes suddenly aware of how tired you feel.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler smut #fanfic #hbo girls #girls hbo #adam driver

13 notes · View notes

hazzastylesfanfics · 4 years

Text

Part 2/?

still testing the waters with this but i think it’s starting to shape into something i like?

idk

i’ll do longer parts if people are interested!

lemme know :-)

I curse whoever decided that glass doors were a good idea and weigh my options. I could fully ignore him. It’s not like I’d made eye contact with him. Twice. I could also act like an actual adult and go to the door. Opening 10 minutes early wouldn’t be the end of the world.

I finally move my body cemented in place towards the door. He flashes that damned smile at me causing me to trip and drop my keys. Even on my best days I can barely hold my shit together. I give him a little wave, place the keys into the lock, turn, and crack the door.

“We’re not open yet,” I blurt out. Apparently my lips decided to not consult my brain before speaking. Of course he knows we’re not open, Grey. The front door is literally locked. Idiot.

The corner of his mouth rises into a smirk. “I was passing by and wanted to stop in for another small coffee.”

“At 5:45 in the morning?” He can’t be serious. I’m not falling for the “just passing by” trick.

“Yeah, I try to go on a run every morning.”

I realize how stupid I look then, shielding myself with the door and a blank expression on my face. So he’s not stalking me. Plenty of people run through the Pearl in the mornings, apparently he is one of them. I really need to get my head straight.

“Right. Sorry, uh come on in.” I pull the door open wide enough for him to walk by me. True to his word, he’s in running gear. I notice his arms are glistening slightly. God, look at those arms. A ship inked onto his left bicep catches my eye. Does this guy have a nautical thing going or something?

He slides by just close enough for me to get a smell of his aftershave. He smells incredible. This is a joke. Not only does this guy look unfairly enticing after a run, but he even smells good. I shake my head in an attempt to chase away the dirty thoughts running through it.

“Er, I haven’t brewed drip yet so it’ll be a minute or so. Is that okay?” I hurry behind the counter as he stops at the register.

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“Cool, cool,” I mumble.

I feel his eyes burning into my back as I grind the espresso beans and toss them into a filter. I press brew above the empty container and watch a steady stream of coffee pour into the open top.

“What’s your name?” He asks conversationally. I turn to face him. He’s casually leaning on the front counter, fidgeting with the merchandise sitting on it.

“It’s Grey.”

With amusement in his eyes, he meets mine. “Like the color?”

If I had a dollar for every person who’s asked me that over the years I would have enough to legally declare grey was no longer a color.

“Yeah, I guess.” I scrunch up my nose for a moment. “It’s more like my parents partied too much and smoked a lot of weed and thought Grey was a perfectly suitable name for a human being.”

That earns me a laugh from him. “I like it. Very moody.” He winks.

“Thanks.” I look down at my twiddling thumbs. “Uh, what’s yours?”

“Harry,” he says.

“Like what’s on your head?” The words escape before I can stop them. I can feel my ears redden at my idiotic joke. He chuckles softly.

“Something like that. It’s fairly boring if you ask me.”

“No booze and drugs involved?” We both laugh. The beep of the brewer behind me indicates it’s finished. “You said a small, right?”

“Whatever you’d like to give me,” he says coyly.

I give my head a little shake. I fill a 12-ounce cup to the top, remembering he likes no room, and snap the lid on. I spin around and nearly drop his coffee in the process. He’s leaning as far forward as he can on the counter, arms extended in front of him with his hands clasped. My eyes trail along the curves of his arms for a second, fantasizing about them pinning me down to this very counter and-

“So what are you doing when you get off?”

“Get off?” He matches my puzzled expression. “Oh! You mean work.” I mentally kick myself. Get your head out of the damn gutter, Grey. “I’ll probably just go home and take a nap. That’s usually what I do on the days I open.”

“Not much of a morning person?” He takes a sip of his coffee. I can’t help but watch his lips wrap around the lid. My thoughts wander to his lips to what else he could wrap them around.

“I despise mornings,” I agree. “Days shouldn’t start before 10 a.m. if you ask me.”

“Sounds like you’re in the right line of work then.” He smiles. How am I just noticing the deep dimples that indent his face when does? They paint the perfect illusion of youth.

“I’m good at it.” I shrug. “It’s an easy job anyway. Tips are good.”

“Speaking of, how much do I owe you?” He reaches for his wallet.

“It’s on the house.” I smile.

“If it’s because I came before you opened then I can wait until the register is ready or whatever,” he reasons.

“No, no it really is fine.” I glance at the clock on the iPad. “We’re open now anyway.”

“I insist.”

“It’s a dollar seventy-five; I think we’ll be alright.”

“Let me pay you back tonight then?” He peaks over the top of his coffee as he takes another sip, looking hopeful. “Drinks?”

“Uh-” I bite my lip. Did this guy really walk in here with the intention of asking me out or is fate throwing me a sympathy bone? “I can probably do that, yeah. What time?”

His expression relaxes. “Whenever works for you. I can pick you up at your place or you can swing by mine? Do you live around here?”

“My apartment isn’t far from here. There are some bars within walking distance of it if you just wanted to meet me at mine?”

“Sure, just send me the address.” He pulls his phone out and hands it to me across the counter. I take it and type my phone number in, adding it to his contacts. Grey, (like the color), I add.

“Here you are.” I hold his phone out to him. Our hands brush momentarily and every nerve in my body ignites. They’re soft. His hands are really soft. “You better not ghost me.” I laugh.

His eyebrows shoot up and a look of exaggerated shock takes over his features. “I would never.” He laughs along with me. “Do I look like the type of lad to do that?”

The door opens and two of my morning regulars walk in before I can answer. He glances over his shoulder and then back to me.

“Looks like that’s my cue.” I smile apologetically.

“See you tonight.” His eyes twinkle like two stars I could get lost in.

As he’s leaving I notice a five-dollar bill in the tip jar.

“I look terrible in absolutely everything, oh my god!! Why do I even own half of this shit!” I fall facedown on my bed next to Lana.

“Shut up, babe you’ve looked hot in everything you’ve put on,” she assures.

“You’re a fucking liar and you know it.” I sigh. “It’s easy for you to say considering you look good in everything you wear.”

“Not true.” She stands and walks to my wardrobe. “What about this?” Lana pulls out a midi, light grey silk dress.

I sit up. “Don’t you think a slip dress is a bit...much?” I scrunch my nose up. “I don’t even know if this is a date.”

The texts Harry and I exchanged throughout the day were short and simple. He never explicitly said the word “date” nor did he really flirt much. It made me feel anxious.

“You said yourself you didn’t want this to be a date,” she responds.

“That’s not what I meant. I just- You know how it is.”

She sighs. “Sometimes Grey? I really don’t. C’mon, this gorgeous guy is clearly into you and you’re gonna play these stupid games with him? He could actually be a decent guy, ya know. Can we also talk about the fact that he’s fucking British? How often do you find that in Portland?”

“Not interested.” I take the dress from her hand and hold it up to my body, observing it in the mirror on my wardrobe door. It really is a pretty dress. I’ve only worn it a handful of times but it’s done wonders for me every time I have. I could toss a white tee over it and knot it to tone it down a bit. Sandals would also help. I undress and let the silk fall over my body. I forgot how it hugged what little curves I have just enough to hint at them.

Lana’s eyes narrowed in approval. “That. You have to wear that. Remind me why I’ve never borrowed it again?”

“Because you were gifted with an ass and I wasn’t?” Envy consumes me. Lana had this perfectly curvy body that genetics would never allow me to have. She constantly switches between hating it and loving it.

“Oh right, that.” She frowns. “So you’re really not gonna give this Harry guy a chance?”

I pull a white tee out from my drawer and pull it over my head. After fussing with the knot for a minute, I settle on one I like. “What do I even do with my hair?” I ignore her question and walk down the hall toward my bathroom.

She follows and perches on the edge of the bathtub. My tiny bathroom barely fits us comfortably. “Grey, seriously. Maybe it’s time to open yourself up again.”

I pause with my hands holding up my hair in a simple, low messy bun. I pull a few strands of my bangs out to frame my face. Not liking what I see, I drop it in frustration and run my fingers through my loose brown curls. Maybe I could just wear it naturally. Except I hadn’t washed it from my shift this morning and it smelled of coffee. I sighed. Naps are great until I sleep the day away. Back to the bun it is.

“I like the bun,” Lana comments.

“Is my makeup too like-”

“Come fuck me makeup?” She finishes for me.

I laugh lightly. “Not exactly how I would have put it but, sure.”

“You look hot, babe. If I was Harry I would most definitely have that dress on the floor by the end of the night.”

I bite my tongue through my teeth and smile. “That’s the goal.”

We walk back to my room so I can find shoes and my purse. I check my phone for the time and see I’ve missed a call and two texts from Harry.

Sorry if you’re not ready. I’m a bit early.

Then, 10 minutes later.

Should I come up or wait for you down here?

“Oh shit, he’s early.” I dash around my room looking for my ID and grab a bundle of cash from the vase I keep my tips in. Lana is laying on my bed absentmindedly petting Charlie. She’s curled up on my pillow - her favorite place. “You can stick around as long as you want but I can’t guarantee what will be happening in here later.” I smile devilishly.

“Thanks for that, Grey,” she replies sarcastically. “I’ll head out after you two are gone. Sure you don’t want me to tag along as backup?”

“Yeah and have you flirt with him the entire night? I’ll pass.” I fluff my hair once more in the mirror and make sure my lipstick is in place.

“I’m just saying, I would give the boy a chance so maybe you should too.”

“Right, uh-huh.” I’m already halfway to the front door.

“Be safe!” I hear as the door clicks shut behind me.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction fic #one direction imagine #harry styles #harry

8 notes · View notes

lavendersoft · 5 years

Text

Until I met you.

-Street fighter!Jimin x Reader

2/?

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi wouldn’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training, as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest, until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of sexual assault/ harassment, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: super slow burn :/ basically, in which jimin copes with the traumatic incident of his fiancé’s brutal murder by street fighting. this story isn’t yandere but has dark themes.

“I gave her your number.”

Jimin almost spits out his gator aid in shock.

“You what?!”

The two friends had been kickboxing for two hours now and decided to take a break.

“She’s, like, really into you.”

Jimin’s sighs. He appreciates his friend but a relationship is the last thing he needs at the moment.

It hasn’t even been a year yet.

“And you’re really into her. You’re just the only one that can’t see it.” Jungkook states.

“What are you talking about?” Jimin is genuinely surprised.

“You were oogling over her all night, dude. It was so obvious. Like, you blushed. You actually blushed! I haven’t seen you look at someone like that since-“ Jungkook catches himself before he says the name, Jimin’s glare daring him to go on.

It was true, Jimin knew that. There was something about her, the way she presented herself, the manner in which she spoke, the slight light-hearted sarcastic comments. Something reminded Jimin of Yoongi.

“I’m not ready for another relationship, okay? Just drop it.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow into slits of suspicion.

“Have you been seeing Dr. Bang lately?” The air around Jimin becomes thin at the mention of his therapist.

“Not in a while.”

“What about your meds? Have you had your anti-depressant refilled?”

“No.”

Jungkook sighs, his head hanging low.

“Seriously?”

“I’m not a child, Jungkook.” Jimin scolds. He finishes the conversation by standing and heading towards the shower, leaving a sulking Jungkook.

That night Jimin doesn’t get much sleep. His mind kept wandering over to her face. The way her eyes lit up when he spoke to her. How her voice got a bit louder when talking about dancing.

He used the be that passionate. Now he spends all of his time fighting. He had no time- or need- for passion.

The chime of his phone brings him out of his thoughts.

11:30? Who the hell is texting me at 11:30?

Unknown: Hey, is this Jimin?

Jimin: yeah? Who’s this?

Unknown: It’s Y/n. We met last night?

His heart jumps.

Jimin: Oh, yeah, of course! how are you?

Unknown: I’m great! I was just wondering if you wanted to go see Singin’ in the Rain the musical? I was given two tickets by my dance instructor and just thought since you have a background in dance..? It’s @ 7:00 tomorrow night.

A date? Like an actual date? Without other people? For romantic purposes and not meaningless hookups?

Jimin: Sorry. I’m working.

A lie. He doesn’t even have a job. He lost it months ago, when he started fighting for money.

Unknown: oh, that’s okay. :)

Jimin’s eyes can’t leave his phone screen. They start to burn since the bright screen is such a sharp contrast to his dark room.

Should I...?

He shakes his head and turns off his phone to try to get as much shut-eye as he could, the rancid smell of lingering alcohol surrounding him.

—

The next morning is the normal routine- he gets up, showers, eats, grabs a beer, and makes his way to the gym.

He hits the punching bag just a little harder than usual, though.

Her face doesn’t leave his mind. Her disappointment emits through the last text she sent. He wants to go. He really does.

But he can’t. It’s dangerous. She’s already been able to take over his thoughts in such a short amount of time. No one’s been able to captivate his mind so quickly since... him.

He won’t let himself go down that hole.

Y/n: Awesome! I’ll see you tonight then!

Yes. He texted her. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a play. A play he’s wanted to see since he was little.

That’s the only reason he’s going.

They’ve decided to meet at the theater, for that Jimin was grateful. It would save him the awkward first pickup that he’s had to do so many times.

He waits at the entrance door for her, albeit a bit impatiently. It looks as if it’s about to start raining and everyone else is entering and taking their seats already.

She’s late. He hates when people are late. If he had his ticket he probably would have gone in without her. His hands stuffed in his pockets, his foot tapping the ground lightly. He sighs. If she’s not here in the next two-

“Hey, Jimin. You look nice.”

He turns to the sound of the pleasantly soft voice. She’s wearing a black velvet, formfitting slip dress.

No, she looks nice. Better than nice, even. If he were the old Jimin, he would have told her that.

But he’s not, so he only nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you.”

He hopes she doesn't notice the healing bruise on his left cheekbone. He doesn't think it's noticeable but yet again, he's desensitized to wounds like such.

They take their seats and to Jimin’s pleasant surprise, they’re close to the front. He can see the entire stage perfectly. When the lights dim and the show starts, he feels entranced. He forgot how much he used to love music. He hasn't listened to a full song on his own time since he gave up dancing. He finds himself almost jealous of the way the actors float across the stage as they dance.

Glancing over, he finds Y/n just as engaged. Her eyes all but sparkle in awe, a small smile etches her face as she watches intently.

She’s glowing.

The play ends too early for Jimin’s liking. He wishes he had a longer opportunity to study her facial expressions more. He doesn't know why she fascinates him so much.

“You hungry?” Her question catches him off guard at first, her eyes meeting his own.

“I could eat.”

“Great. I know a cute little place not too far from here.”

The food was gross.

Jimin didn’t care. He didn't care about much these days anyway. She seemed to enjoy it though, so he couldn't say it was a total waste. The way her eyes lit up before closing in delight, humming softly when she spooned in another bite.

“So good.”

“Yeah.” He barely registered the smile that crept upon his face in utter amusement.

She’s pretty cute, I guess.

Then the passing thought jerked Jimin’s attention away.

He’s- no, it’s not here. It’s always here? It’s always lingering somewhere... but...

“You lookin’ for someone?” She questions, although her tone is light.

“No. I’ve just never been here so I’m taking in the ambiance.” It wasn't a total lie. Sure, the food wasn't the best but he’d ordered a glass of wine to compensate for that. Beyond that, the restaurant itself was cozy. It featured fairy lights and wooden fixtures. Various types of greenery adorned the walls and he had a direct view of the patio, which had a fireplace and a decorated oak tree that grew from the cracked pavement. He had to admit that was kind of cool.

“Well, hows the first impression?” She inquires.

“It’s cute, like you said.”

Jimin doesn't know how she talked him into letting herself walk him home, as if he needed a chaperone. But he doesn't argue, he’s too tired- and tipsy- for that.

They turn down the alley that he usually uses as a short-cut. There are always shady men that like to loiter around here but Jimin never pays them any mind. No sane person that knows anything about Demon wouldn't try anything fresh.

Apparently, these guys are new around here.

“Hey, baby, you’re lookin’ like a good fuck tonight. God damn.” A particularly tall man that looks unshowered comments, looking Y/n up and down with a predatory gaze. His equally gross friends become confident enough to start making their own distasteful comments.

Jimin can feel the anger start to boil.

Right as his feet stop walking, she grabs his hand to urge him forward.

“It’s not worth it. Let’s go.” Her eyes seem so desperate and pleading that it satiates his anger, if only for a second. Jimin notices that she hasn't even acknowledged the stranger.

Why won't she just tell him she's not interested so he’ll leave her alone?

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the sharp sound of a hand slap on fabric.

“Damn, baby. That ass is incredible.”

He touched her. He touched her.

“Hey! Who the hell do you thi-” She’s interrupted by a flash of blond hair placing itself between her and the man. Jimin grabs the stranger by the throat and pushes him against the brick wall of the alley. The man’s eyes alight with fear and regret upon finding the strength that the smaller man had stocked away in his more petite frame.

“I think you owe her an apology.”

But the man is stubborn, unfortunately for him.

“Go fuck yourself, asshole. Your girlfriend’s a nasty whore anywa-” He doesn't get the chance to even breath before Jimin lands a hard punch to his jaw.

He felt the string snap. The same string that snaps when he’s in the ring. He sees nothing but red. He hears nothing but the sound his heart thumping in his ears.

The blood flies around him, his focus is only on one thing. Punch after punch, hit after hit, Jimin continues.

Jimin’s knuckles start to ache, his muscles are strained. He really does want to kill this man. He really does.

He probably might have if she hadn't stepped in front of him, her hands on his face.

“Jimin.”

Her face is confident, maybe a bit stern even. But anyone could see that she was concerned.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s go, come on.” She takes his bruising hand, easing him away, her eyes refusing to leave his.

Jimin is still dazed on the walk home but still manages to give her the directions to his house. The first thing she asks for when he unlocked to door was the first aid kit- and proceeded to clean his hands.

No one ever cleaned his wounds after a fight. He’s always had to do it himself.

He observed how her facial expressions would switch from concentrated to relaxed as she proceeded. Then a smirk crossed her face.

“You stare a lot, you know that?” She finishes wrapping his second hand and places in on his lap.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She was so relaxed around him, something Jimin wasn’t used to. “I think you broke his jaw. Not like he didn’t deserve it, though.”

“What happened to the other guys?” Jimin was curious. In his fury, when everything was a blur, he didn’t even realize that the other’s weren’t participating in the fight.

“They bolted as soon as you threw the first punch. All talk, I guess.” She responds with an amused grin.

“Why didn't you tell them?” It comes off a bit more accusatory than he expected.

“What?”

“Why didn't you tell them to fuck off, to stop, anything?”

Her eyes are locked on his wrapped hand in thought before she responds.

“People like them don’t listen, Jimin. Sometimes it’s just safer to ignore.”

Y/n took the silence that comes after as an opportunity to look around Jimin’s apartment. It was small but not cramped. In fact, there was barely anything in the house at all.

Jimin had gotten rid of anything that even remotely reminded him of Yoongi. Everything except-

“Who’s this?”

“Don’t-“ Jimin catches himself before he snatches the picture back from her hands. Instead, he places a hand nervously on the back of his neck, “Um- that’s just.. uh-“

Sensing his discomfort, she places the picture frame back on the shelf where she found it. The picture featured Jimin with his arms wrapped around his blonde boyfriend, a bit too close to be less than lovers.

He visibly sighs in relief.

“That’s my... my f-” The word gets stuck in his throat, refusing to budge.

“Friend. He died not too long ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you two close?” Her tone was nothing but sympathetic.

Jimin doesn’t understand the sudden irritation that arises in him. It was a simple, innocent question.

Were they close? Were they close??

“Yes.” He doesn’t realize that he’s been subconsciously playing with the ring on his left hand, “We were very close.”

Jimin doesn’t like newcomers. He hasn’t since Yoongi died. In fact, no one new has even entered his home in months. He doesn’t trust people, because they all leave. He didn’t even like Jungkook’s girlfriend at first, but he got used to her after a while. Jimin used to love meeting new friends, he was the most sociable person out of the group. But he was different from what he used to be. New friends, new relationships aren’t worth it.

His mind flashes to the faces of all the people he’s “dated” in the past six months. All the hearts he’s broken because he can’t return their romantic feelings. All the women who he’s made cry after fucking and ditching them. All the men he’s been yelled at for leading them on. But he doesn’t care.

No one stays, so why make yourself vulnerable to someone that’s not going to be there forever?

He knows it’s only a matter of time before she leaves, too.

“And you want to call yourself a good person? Bullshit.” Jimin gulps.

“Playing with people’s emotions is only something a monster would do. You’re evil. Weak and evil.” The dark growl sounds from behind him, a cold hand is placed on the back of his neck. Jimin’s breath quickens.

“Hey,” She steps forward, and the cold feeling from behind him disappears and it’s replaced with something warmer. Her.

“Are you okay?” Her face is filled with worry. She must have sensed Jimin’s impending panic. Her hand is on his chest now, it’s comforting. She has to be able to feel his racing heartbeat.

“Yeah, sorry. Just bad memories is all.” He takes a quick, nonchalant look behind him.

But Yoongi’s not there this time.

#Until I Met You #yoonmin #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoonmin fanfiction #park jimin #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfiction #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jimin #jungkook #yoongi #min yoongi #street fighter! jimin

60 notes · View notes