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raibebe · 4 years

Text

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?” “Nope.” “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.) “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again. You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now… “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.” You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe. “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless. “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

#kafenetwork #johnny #seo youngho #johnny suh #nct #johnny smut #johnny fluff #nct smut #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #johnny fic #johnny fanfic

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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Count the Shadows - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky wants you to sit on his face.

Warnings: smut, a more dominant reader than I’m used to writing, pining!Bucky, all of the good stuff, second hand embarassment

A/N: so... this is a gift to @navegandoaciegas. She gave me the idea for the Graveyard series ending, and that actually inspired me to keep working on that fic that was supposed to only be a oneshot and then became the pride of my eye. I hope you don’t mind that I’m dedicating this to her 😅 It also allowed me to explore some new kinks that might be appearing thanks to her writing and so really, I felt like this had to see the light of day. But really, if it weren’t for @world-of-aus, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @awesomerextyphoon‘s support, I probably never would have had the courage to publish it, so thank you guys so much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Friday nights at Stark tower meant that something out of the ordinary was about to happen, and I’d already grown used to it, after being a part of the Avengers for the last two months. However, that didn’t mean that the prospect of a night planned by Tony Stark didn’t bring me a hell of a lot of anxiety, to the point where sometimes I’d catch myself wishing for a simple recon mission to take me away for the weekend.

Despite all of my fears and discomfort, I’d been lucky so far. Not once had his attentions turned towards me, and he never even so much as called me to dance with him during one of the raves he liked to organize, so I was able to slip by unnoticed, seizing the opportunity to drink the good (expensive) booze and talk to my friends before retiring for the night.

By Wednesday that week, it was clear that the same couldn’t be said about the next event he’d be hosting.

“Say, Y/L/N, have I thrown you a welcome party?” Was my rude awakening on that fateful morning. Until his arrival, I’d been happily whipping up some pancakes for the supersoldiers and Sam, my morning run partners. The moment his question was processed in my brain however, I froze on my spot, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, now, don’t give me that look. When have I ever thrown a bad party?”

Bucky choked on his coffee, and I immediately was by his side, lightly tapping his back to help him. “I guess this answers your question,” I joked, but with a serious face. Unfortunately, Tony simply rolled his eyes, too used to Bucky and I’s “antisocial behavior”, like he usually described, to give us any attention. “Okay, so maybe not bad, but if you’re going to throw a party using me as an excuse, I have at least one request. And it’s a dealbreaker for me.”

Something in my words truly interested Tony, because instead of brushing me off he actually turned to face me, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “So what you mean is that if I don’t give you what you want, you won’t join the party?”

I nodded, standing my ground. “That’s right.” Next to me, Bucky stood straighter in his chair.

“Neither will I.” That brought a smile to my lips, and I turned to hug him quickly.

“Thanks Buck,” I whispered in his ear, relishing in the way he always held onto my embrace just a second longer than I expected. It was always like this with us. Ever since I first noticed just how touch-starved the super soldier was, I’d find little excuses to touch him. And if I ever doubted my first assumption, the way he always chased away my warmth for just a second longer was enough to prove to me that I was doing something right.

“Very well,” Tony said after clearing his throat to regain my attention. “What’s your request?”

“Only the people who live in this tower can be invited.” I was expecting a lot of fuss from the billionaire, but surprisingly, all I got was a disappointed sigh.

“Figured as much. Okay, big shot. But here’s the deal: you’ll have to stay the entire night and participate in every game we decide to play.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. That sounded fair. “It’s a deal then! All you have to do is be here on Friday night, capisce? Don’t be late.”

I should have known something was up back then, but as it were, I was just happy that I was able to stop him from filling the Tower with people I didn’t know. Not only would it help to keep Bucky relaxed (and perhaps even allow him to enjoy himself for once!), it’d also help to keep myself relaxed.

I’d never been one to enjoy big crowds, and I especially didn’t want to celebrate joining the team with people who weren’t even a part of it. It made sense. So when Friday night rolled around, it found me in a way better mood than I expected. I even accepted Nat’s suggestion and let her pick my clothes. I was feeling so great, in fact, that I felt bolder, brave enough to accept to wear a satin red dress with a deep neckline that seemed to be able to attract every man’s attention upon seeing me.

Even Bucky seemed drawn to it. And I couldn’t deny that knowing I held that sort of power even to a man of his caliber, a man that attractive, made me feel even braver. But with braveness comes stupidity, and I was brutally reminded of that fact by Tony’s smug face when I heard the dare he had for me.

Listen, I would have never accepted the idea of fucking truth or dare if it wasn’t for this stupidly sexy dress. I mean, the powers that clothing can have… They can make you blind with clout. That’s the only way I could justify what happened next.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I argued, much to Tony’s (and the rest of the team’s) amusement. Each and every single one of them looked at me with barely contained laughter, with the exception of Bucky, apparently.

“Careful, sweetheart… The dare’s already on and that wasn’t very sexy of you.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I very carefully thought out my gameplay here. I could very well retreat to my bedroom and go to sleep. But then again, this whole night had been so fun, and Tony had been really nice to abide by my wishes to only invite people that I knew…

“Fine. I’ll spend the rest of the night being as blunt as possible as I hit on you guys. After all, this is probably the only way you’ll ever get to hear me talking dirty, huh?” And with a wink in Tony’s direction, I resigned myself to face the challenge ahead. “So, let’s get on with this orgy, shall we?”

Bucky’s P.O.V.

It’s not that I was jealous. Of course, I wasn’t jealous. It’s just… hearing her say those things in front of everyone else made my blood boil like nothing else. I knew it wasn’t my place to feel this way. It’s not like she owed me anything, much less attention. As much as I wanted, she wasn’t mine, or even close to that.

Despite being head over heels in love with her, I still hadn’t gathered enough courage to even ask her out for a cup of coffee - or anything else, for that matter. And the worst part was that everyone but her seemed to know about my feelings. Which made this whole night even worse, since I was pretty sure Tony had done all of this on purpose.

So I had to sit through a lot of “Oh, please fuck me”, and “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” none of which were addressed to me - and those were the least graphic ones. I couldn’t really blame her, since I hadn’t spoken a single word from the second this whole dare started, but still, I was sulking, and I knew it.

In fact, I was so lost inside my own head, that I didn’t even realize what had happened when she asked “Do you want me to sit on your face or what?” (which I’m pretty sure was directed to Sam) until a heavy silence took the place of the animated chatter that had been going on. Imagine my surprise when I realized everyone was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, my heart already beating out of control, looking from one face to the other in the hopes of grasping what I had lost in the conversation.

“You just said you wanted Y/N to sit on your face,” was the response I got, from no other than Sam himself, and if my heart had been pounding on my chest only seconds before, now it felt as if it had stopped altogether.

“You’re crazy,” I tried to joke, trying with all of my might not to look at the woman who was staring at me. I could feel her gaze on my face. It burned and I ached to look, to see what sort of expression she was wearing, but my anxiety was just too strong - stronger than my curiosity ever could be.

“I wish I was, man. But you literally just answered ‘Please sit on mine’ when she asked if she could sit on my face.” I was going to die. I was sure of it. My face felt so warm, there was no way I wouldn’t just spontaneously combust any second now.

The worst part was, I knew Sam was telling the truth. Because those were the precise words I thought the second that I heard the offer leave her beautiful lips. And now I didn’t know what to do.

“Fine, your room or mine?” She broke me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, surprising me so much that I automatically raised my eyes to meet hers, finding her looking down at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Was she joking? Was this part of the dare?

The room erupted on laughs and I forced myself to join them, praying to whoever was available up in the heavens that they would let me be and thankfully, soon enough, the conversation smoothly transitioned away from me and my stupid malfunctioning. Y/N didn’t look in my direction again, which helped with my task of trying to get my breathing pattern into a normal one once more, and in a half hour people were breaking up into small groups and going back into their own rooms for the night.

I figured it was safe to do the same. So I got back to my bedroom’s floor with my hands buried deep in my pocket, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night, when the door to my room suddenly opened and a tiny hand wrapped around my wrist, hauling me as best as they could into my own living quarters.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Bucky looked beyond surprised as he stared down at me with his mouth hanging open. I was tempted to tease him about letting flies in if he stayed like that, but I didn’t want to make this any more difficult for him than it clearly already would be. To be honest, I also had no idea how I’d been able to move that mountain of a man.

“What are you doing in my room?” Oh, right. That’s what he was concerned about. Fair enough.

“I wanted to show you something.” By the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally being able to say anything else, it was clear that it wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but then again, he obviously wasn’t expecting me to be in his room.

“W-What?”

I grinned, immediately curling my fingers on the edge of my dress before promptly pulling it over my head and sending it flying across the room. Bucky’s jaw dropped, and it only made my smile grow bigger as I quickly got rid of my bra before finally doing the same to my underwear.

“What? Did you think I would let you suffer?” The poor thing, he didn’t seem capable of answering at all, eyes the size of plates as he stared at my naked body, practically drooling. I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them slightly before trailing further down.

“Did you think I’d let Sam learn what my pussy tasted like? Or Steve? No, no, no, James. This is for you and you only.” Burying a finger inside of me, I made sure to let out my loudest, most pornographic moan as I slowly thrusted it once inside of me before raising it to his face.

“See how I’m soaked? I always get like this when I’m near you.” Bucky actually whimpered, knees faltering for a second as he reached out to grab a hold of himself with the wall next to us, and I laughed before raising a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched as I watched the mountain of a man before me literally do exactly that, hypnotizingly staring at the space between my legs before slowly meeting my eyes with a look of pure need in his perfect face. Jesus. How the fuck was I supposed to control myself when he was looking at me like that?

I had gathered the sense that Bucky wanted me, that much became clear tonight, but I had no idea the extent of his desire until just then. Until he looked at me with pupils dilated from under his stupidly long eyelashes, breath coming out from his open mouth like he was desperate for me, desperate to taste what I had to offer.

He looked like he would do anything I asked him to in that second, and the feeling of power that thought gave me left me horny as nothing else. So my first order of business was to command, “Eat me.”

The second the words were out, it was clear that was all he was waiting to do what both of us so clearly wanted. Two strong hands grabbed me from behind and with that grasp of my ass, he pulled me to him until I was in fact seated on his face, wholly dependent on his muscular body to keep me up.

“Oh God,” he was the one to whisper, and a shiver ran through my body as he licked my pussy from clit to hole before diving in as if he was determined to rid me of all of my wetness - knowing fully well it was an impossible task.

Bucky Barnes didn’t need any guidance in the art of eating pussy, that quickly became clear to me, but I still felt the need to grab a hold of his hair just to help keep myself grounded into the reality of this moment. The way he moaned against my cunt at the action, the vibrations running through my body and making me tremble on top of him, certainly didn’t make me regret any part of my decision. It was clear he liked that sting of pain.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I was having a hard time believing this was really happening, even though I had Y/N’s completely naked body on top of me, her cunt spread open by my own tongue, her juices covering every inch of my tongue. I couldn’t even convince myself to close my eyes to fully enjoy her taste, too preoccupied with memorizing every little thing about this moment.

And the second she opened her eyes to find me already looking up at her, I was particularly glad for my decision, if only because I got to witness the delicious smile that took over her beautiful face before she grinded her pussy against my lips.

“Fuck, you look so good like this. I could get used to this.” A jolt ran through my body at the implications of what she was saying. Before I could even fully process it, I was already responding with the only thing that occupied my mind then, “Please do.”

If I thought I would scare her away with my desperation, a delighted giggle immediately managed to calm my nerves. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?” She asked, still rubbing herself against me, so it took me a while to be able to moan against her wetness an honest, “Yes.” When I did though, the vibrations managed to be exactly what she needed to gush her release onto my waiting mouth, making me growl in excitement. She was so fucking sweet. My cock was so fucking hard it hurt, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to pleasure her, how much I never wanted this night to end.

Unfortunately for my plans, she decided to climb down from me, eyes drinking my kneeling position while she caught her breath for a bit before she threw herself on my bed, feet on the mattress so I’d get a perfect vision of her perfect pussy. Hypnotized, I didn’t even notice I’d gotten up and approached her until her voice broke me out of my reverie.

“Would you like to take a picture?” I knew she was joking, but there was no way I’d miss the slightest possibility of getting at least a permanent reminder of this night, so I answered as truthfully as possible yet again, “Of course. Would you let me take one?”

I was expecting her to laugh it off and move this along, but once more her answer surprised me. “Only if you promise me you won’t use it to jerk off to.” The confusion must have been clear in my expression, because she quickly added, “That’s what I’m here for.”

My heartbeat picked up as I struggled to process her words. “D-Does this mean you’ll want to do this again?” I watched as a small smile grew on her lips and she sat up on the mattress before reaching out to me.

“Every night, if you’ll have me.”

Another moment of silence as I struggled to accept that this was real, that this was really happening.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t contain my delighted giggles at the lovestruck expression on Bucky’s eyes. But my need for him was growing deeper every second, so while he stared I reached out for his jeans, quickly managing to unzip them and push them down until I could wrap my hands around his member.

“Jesus, you’re so hard.” Even without any actual stimulation, apparently just giving me pleasure was enough to get him ready for me. I could barely wait to feel his cock inside of my pussy.

“I-I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered while climbing on the bed and settling between my thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about this for the longest time.” Gosh, could he be any more perfect?

“Well, it’s happening now, James. Please, please, fuck me. I need your cock in me.” His lips looked wet from our earlier activities, and my gaze immediately fell on them when he gasped at my words and the feeling of his cock rubbing on my pussy. When I positioned the head and pulled him closer to me, signaling what I wanted, he followed without any resistance, his entire body trembling as he struggled to keep himself up with both hands on either side of my head.

“You’re doing so great, baby. God, it feels so good to be with you like this.” Apparently, Bucky grew tired of fighting against his own body, since he allowed his massive frame to fall just over mine, resting his forehead on mine.

“Fuck.” Hearing the word whispered so close to me, his warm breath dancing over my skin, while he was effectively about to do just that, felt incredibly arousing for something so small. “It’s like I can’t get close enough to you.”

In the search to feel more connected to me, he finally started thrusting, and then it was like I’d forgotten to speak altogether. Only able to hold tight to those shoulders that tempted me for so long, I struggled to keep the moans and whimpers inside so I could continue to hear the little breathless whispers that he was releasing, almost like he was speaking to himself…

“So wet…” It all only made me more desperate for the enchanting man on top of me, so beautiful, and yet so insecure of his own allure. I hoped after tonight he’d start understanding just how attractive he truly was, at least to me.

“Bucky…” I managed to whisper, calling out for his attention and earning it when his eyes snapped open to meet mine. “Bucky, kiss me.” I needed to feel those lips against mine, to have that one sweet gesture of entwinement that we still hadn’t shared. Apparently, he felt the same need, because in a second, he was onto me, mouth slowly prying mine open so his tongue could explore yet another part of my body that now belonged to him.

By then, he couldn’t contain his moans anymore, and I was grateful that I was still able to keep mine low so I wouldn’t miss the symphony of whimpers and whines, especially after he pulled away to catch his breath and his eyes met mine.

“Fuck, darling…” Each sound from his lips made my pulse grow quicker, my body warmer, that incredible high closer and closer to me. And still, because I needed to tease him, I found myself saying, “For someone who was so embarrassed about the team knowing you wanted me, you surely can be loud.”

Bucky hid his head on the crook of my neck, making goosebumps rise all over my body as he rubbed his nose against my skin, breathing me in. If I thought it was a gesture of shyness, his next words assured me that wasn’t the case at all.

“I want them to hear. I want them to know I’m yours.” The confession had the fire of desire burning brighter inside of me, and my hands slipped around his back, certainly leaving nailprints behind.

“Oh, is that it? You’re mine now, James?” The thought thrilled me to no end, but I needed him to say it, not only because I wanted to be sure there was no uncertainty in his feelings for me, but also because it made me even weaker for the soldier and the dominance he had over my body.

“C-Can I be? Please?” There was so much vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes that the only answer I managed to give at first was the connection between our lips again, pulling him down to me so our bodies were completely glued to one another once more. My fingers buried in his locks, I pulled on them when I needed to gather some air, and finally give him an actual answer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Hell fucking yes. We’ll be the hottest couple on Earth.” A shiver went through my body at the realization that she truly wanted this, that she truly wanted me. A sound escaped my lips before I could realize, and in fact, I only noticed it because she broke me out of my reverie by saying, “You know, everytime you whine, I have the overwhelming urge to just tie you down to this bed and give you a reason to do so.”

Shit. This woman made me weak. And the moment I lost control of my own weight, she took advantage of it, inverting our positions so she was the one on top, while managing to keep my cock nestled deep inside of her.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart?” Hearing the filthiness that spilled out of her lips only made me hotter and hotter, my hands flying up to hold her waist as she began to ride me. “Tell me just how badly you want it. Say it, or I’ll leave you right here, right on the edge of bliss, and I’ll cum on your thigh instead.”

I heaved loudly, trying to force my own tongue to work, but the sight of her breasts bouncing with her movements was too hypnotizing. I would never regain full control of my body again, I realized, for as long as she wanted to keep me around. But instead of feeling lost, like I did when the Winter Soldier took over, all I could feel was peace.

She wanted me. She wanted my body, my soul, every part of me. Despite every missing piece, every scar. Everything anyone had ever done to me, everything I’d done to so many. And I’d gladly give it all to her, forever.

“Please, please let me cum, ma’am.” The name left my lips before I could realize, but it made her smile. And right then, I knew I’d done the right thing. Her movements picked up, her hand searching mine to guide my thumb to meet her nub, and as soon as I started rubbing it, she gasped in the most melodic of sounds.

“Cum for me, James. I wanna feel you cumming inside of me.” Jesus fucking christ. I didn’t have a choice, my body reacting to her calling like she was a siren and I was helpless. I felt helpless. It wasn’t difficult to see that I liked it, though. I liked being under her control. I liked how she pulled me apart and held me in place all at the same time.

“If you don’t take your thumb away, so help me God.” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts, realizing her chest was heaving with the effort to breathe properly now that she’d reached her climax with me. I smiled sheepishly before adjusting on the bed, right when she climbed down from my body, and a whine escaped my chest despite my better wishes, making her look at me with an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, I just… I kinda miss you already.” Her smile grew bigger, her eyes twinkling under the moonlight as she leaned over me to kiss me, and I couldn’t help it. I just had to hug her closer, have her falling on top of my chest just so I could invert our positions and kiss her some more.

“I want something that’ll show them I’m yours.” I admitted once she pulled away to gather her breath, and her eyebrows rose in surprise, but also interest, I could tell.

“Like a collar?”

“I was thinking more like a love bite, but I don’t mind.” Her giggle was the most adorable sound in the universe, I was sure of it.

“Baby, I’ll let you fuck me in front of them, if it’ll help your insecurity,” she soothed me, and the thought of having everyone see us together, fully understand that I belonged to her, electrified me. “You’re mine now. You can be damn sure if anyone tries to flirt with you, they’ll have to deal with me. And I’ll make sure they know I’m yours and only yours if they try to chat me up.”

The thought made me smile, and I laid back on the bed and pulled her to rest against my chest, my hand instinctively coming up to play with her hair. “I can get used to that.” We stayed like that for a while, just breathing in each other’s presences, relishing in the comfortable silence between us, until I felt the need to break it.

“Can I kiss you again?” I felt her smile against my skin, before she pushed away to reach for me and connect our lips once more. God, I don’t think I’d ever get used to knowing I could have this anytime I wanted. “One more,” I begged when she pulled away, and she pretended to think for a moment before shooting me a mischievous grin.

“Only if you come fuck me in the shower.”

The only thing I could think to say in response, as I watched her strut in the direction of the bathroom, was “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

#my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #I'm gonna reblog it with the taglists later

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chilligyu · 3 years

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info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

107 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Take Your Feelings, Put Them Into a Song (A.I)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Wallows! Fem! Reader

Requested: yes!

Summary: Y/N Sixx, bassist from the famous band Wallows, is helping 5SOS write their latest album CALM. If only she could keep her crush on the drummer under control…

Warnings: Fluff. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: IM BACK! Remember that Reblogs, Likes, Comments and Feedback are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

anon: Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born on 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and it’s the bassist and songwriter of Wallows (…) and she helps 5sos write songs for the album CALM and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in a good way) with shipping? There’s no drama like it was in EUH

It was another boring day in the studio and you would literally prefer to do anything else than to listen to Cole talk about the last date he had instead of working on your new song. But inspiration was lacking between you and your bandmates and you really had no other choice since you already took that time on the studio’s schedule.

One would believe that you would be used to dull times in the studio, having spent a lot of time on them while growing up with your parents, but boredom was a cruel crime inside your head and today your patience was running thin.

“Hey, peanut!” Dylan called your attention “Everything good there?”

You were laying on the sofa, looking at the ceiling for some kind of saving grace, but Dylan’s voice brought you back to your reality.

“Are we going to get something done today?” You asked with a sigh, with your eyes still glued to the ceiling “Cause we are really just wasting time by now and I don’t think Cole’s last fling will bring any kind of inspo into our little group”

“Hey!” Cole protested, earning a chuckle from Braeden.

“Whatever,” You said, already getting up from your spot “I’m going to take a walk”

You took a deep breath once you closed the door to your private room. You loved the guys, you really do, but sometimes people can be too much, especially people who you spend every single day and hour with.

Memories from the past year started to fill your mind and you smiled when thinking about how much your little band has grown. Wallows was now everywhere, you created a name for yourself without using your parent’s influence and you were so damn proud of that, yet when moments like these come around - the moments where you just need to breathe to escape the reality for just a while - you start to reflect on every choice you made and if they were the right ones.

It’s the overthinking that got you to write those first lyrics in the first place, the ones that were put into songs and now were, somehow, all over TikTok with thousands of people relating to them. So maybe, overthinking now might not be such a bad idea after all.

“It’s a terrible idea if you think about it for more than one minute, mate”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that voice, thinking that maybe you were finally going crazy or someone could’ve read your mind. But it wasn’t until you heard someone else answer that you realized it was a conversation.

“Well, I don’t know what to do with it anymore!”

You turned your head to the left and smiled when you saw the little sign that said “5SOS now in session. DO NOT DISTURB” And realized that your other favorite boys were back in town.

Of course you ignored the sign and knocked on the door a couple of times before opening it shamelessly.

“Well, well, well…” You said with a teasing smile as you leaned over the door frame “If it isn’t my second favorite Aussie band”

The faces of two of the members of said band light up once they realize it was you, quickly getting up to wrap you in a hug.

“Mini Sixx!” Calum said, ruffling his hand through your hair “About time you came to visit us”

You pushed him and Luke away from you “And you should’ve told me you’re back from your break! I could’ve escaped Dylan and the other minions earlier”

“Rough session?” Luke asked, seating down and patting the place next to him for you to sit on.

“Oh, you have no idea”

You loved the 5sos guys, it was impossible not to. Ever since you met them at a label party in 2015 when you were introduced to them because you were the same age as half of the group, you knew that they were made to be on the stage.

It was easy to become their friend, given their welcoming attitude and easy-going smiles even before they found out who your parents were. It was nice for a change not to be Y/N Sixx, daughter of the famous bassist of Mötley Crüe and famous Playboy doll Brandi Brandt, for a moment and just be Y/N, a bassist that had a lot to give to the world. And with the boys you didn’t even have to try to be someone you were not, with them everything was just so… real.

Just like now, where you were allowed to complain about your lovely bandmates to them and they would complain just as well, with no judgment nor responsibilities, just three friends letting out some steam due to the stress of your careers.

“-And basically we don’t know what else to do with the song” Luke finished his rant on the missing piece of their new song for their next album.

“And you have the lyrics ready?”

“Yeah, me and my girl wrote it a few weeks ago but the melody is just…”

“It’s missing something” Calum finished for him with a sigh.

You hummed “Can I see it?”

The two Australians got to work, playing the song with the piano and the guitar and you came to the conclusion that they were right: there was something big missing.

“So it’s a ballad,” You said, thinking of ways to fix it.

“Technically yes, but when you play it like that it sounds incomplete and the lyrics won’t work with another type of rhythm” Luke sighed “We’ve been at it for days now.”

You stayed quiet for a while, reviewing the lyrics and melody more carefully now, analyzing the situation with different approaches but without getting anywhere. It was a beautiful song, it truly was, but it needed something else, something that could create a “boom” sensation for whoever was listening.

Something like…

“Hey guys, have you finished with the- Oh, Hey, Y/N/N!” Ashton said, opening the door and finding you with his bandmates in deep concentration.

Bingo.

“Uh, why are you smiling at me like that?” Ashton asked you with a chuckle, but you didn’t even address him as you turned to Luke and Calum.

“It needs drums”

“What?” The three men said in unison. You rolled your eyes and snatched the notes from Calum’s lap and started to sing the melody.

“Here!” You pointed out “In this part, before finishing the first chorus: I already made, already made that…” And then you started to make drum noises and movements with your arms for them to get the idea.

In a matter of seconds, Luke got up from his seat and walked towards you, taking the notes from you and reviewing them with new eyes, smiling as he got the idea.

“Ha!” He laughed loudly, “You’re a fucking genius!”

“Thank you,” You said with a smug smile as you, Calum and Luke started to discuss the arrangements.

“Wait, hold up” Ashton interrupted the chatter “Y/N, I appreciate you trying to help and no offense and all but I think this isn’t your place to just decide something like that,” He said, pointing to the three of you.

You rolled your eyes. You’ve dealt with stubborn people before, but Ashton did take a spot on your top three and you knew just how to handle him.

“Wow,” You said sarcastically with a teasing smile “One would think that by being half of the rhythm section you would have more… I don’t know, rhythm?”

Ashton crooked an eyebrow and you and you knew you had him in the bag “I just don’t think-”

“You don’t think?” You said, getting up from your chair and walking up to him to be almost chest to chest. You looked up to his eyes and challenged him “Or you just can’t handle the fact that I might’ve had a better idea than you”

You could see by the sparkle in his eyes that he has taken the challenge to heart. He took a step closer to you, almost pressing his body completely against yours, and smirked.

“Want me to prove you wrong, princess?” He teased but you didn’t back up.

“I’d like to see you try, darling”

Ashton’s smirk widened as he took a step back, turning his head towards Luke and Calum who were watching the scene with intrigued eyes and knowing smiles “Get your asses back in the recording booth”

He followed them as they walked into the big recording space they had, but not before sending you a wink seconds after he closed the door.

You were thankful he didn’t see you blush.

Once they were all set with their instruments - Calum on the keys, Luke on the guitar, and Ashton behind his drum set - You pressed the buttons of the console that would make it possible for you to hear them at the other side of the mirrored glass.

“Okay boys, show me what you got”

You became an official 5SOS songwriter after that day and even Ashton had to admit that you were adding so much more to the band lyrics and melodies since you started to work with them.

Every day you would find yourself walking towards their studio after your band’s session and you start to work wherever they left off. It was a simple dynamic that worked wonders for everyone and after every session, you would get even more inspired to write your own music for Wallows, so it was a win-win situation, not to mention, spending time with your new co-workers; especially a particular drummer that grew closer to you that you would’ve ever imagined.

When you first met the band you hit it off pretty quickly with Luke and Calum, them being the same age as you and having pretty much the same interests; then came Michael that shared a similar sense of humor with you and with whom you discussed videogames with. But Ashton was always the one that you consciously tried to not get too close to.

In all honesty, he intimidated you but not in a bad way. He was smart, talented, and super funny, not to mention also ridiculously handsome. But he was also stubborn, a little bit egotistical, and the only one that could keep up with you in a battle of wits, teasing, and sarcasm. And you knew that if you mixed that all together it might mean trouble, especially when he smiled at you like that.

Of course you had a crush on him, who wouldn’t? But the fact is that you know what it is like to date in the industry and having feelings for a member of another pretty famous band might bring some tension to the table, so it was safer to play the crushing card and just stay friends. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself every day since you started to see him regularly and spend more time with him than with any other of the two bands.

Speaking of…

“Earth to Y/N?” Called Braeden waving a hand in front of your face “Is anybody there?”

You blinked a few times before pushing his hand away with a scoff “Very funny, B. What’s up?”

“You spaced out again” Cole added, fidgeting with his drumsticks “Just when we were going to start complimenting you on that bass line you wrote the other day…”

You smiled as you threw a pillow at him that he was able to easily dodge “Sorry, I was just-”

“Thinking about a particular drummer again?” Dylan teased, to which Cole added.

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall in love with me”

You searched for other pillows and started to throw them at your band members, giggling as they started to throw them back at you and starting an improvised pillow fight in the middle of the recording booth.

“Hey, Y/N/N! I was wondering if you-” Ashton’s sentence was cut short as he opened the door and took in the scene that was in front of him.

You were so busy chasing Breaden with a pillow on each hand and a devilish smile that you didn’t even notice when the door opened or that Ashton was standing there, smiling at you with his arms crossed as you aimed at your bandmate's head.

“Oh look, peanut!” Dylan said teasingly “You knight in shiny armor is here to-” But before he could say anything more embarrassing, you threw a pillow directly at his face to shut him out.

You quickly turned your head to Ashton who was fairly amused by your battle skills and smiled at him.

“Hey!” You said breathlessly after chasing down the others.

“Hi,” He smiled back “Am I interrupting something or?”

“Nah, you’re good,” You said, throwing one last pillow at your three friends that stood in a corner blowing teasing kisses and puppy eyes at the two of you “These assholes and I are done for the day” You commented before said assholes started to pout and complain, but you were already out the door before they could say something embarrassing again.

“So…” Ashton trailed off, starting to walk alongside you with his hands in his front pockets.

“So,” You said, drifting your eyes from him and praying to the universe that he didn’t hear anything or else it would make the blush on your face even pinker “You needed me for something?”

You wanted to get the topic of work right there in the open as soon as possible, not wanting him to notice how nervous you got when you were alone with him. At least when you were talking about work you leveled the ground in some parts.

“Actually, I’m going home early today” He smiled softly “Luke and the guys are working on a love song that’s just way too happy and butterflies - in - your -stomach like and I didn’t think they needed me there if I can’t bring nothing to the table”

“You’re not a lovey-dovey feeling kinda guy?” You teased by bumping your arm with his, earning a “hey” from him “I actually get it, I’m not that kind of person either”

“It’s not like I don’t like it, it’s just that-”

“You process your emotions differently, and it’s easier to write those when you think of love in other stages and/or mixed with other complex emotions because-”

“Love is not just one-sided! Yes!” Ashton celebrated, amazed that you could understand what he was saying “I knew you would get it”

That comment made your cheeks heat up as you looked at him, all dimpled smiles and light chuckled as he looked at you with sparkly hazel eyes. Oh no…

“Well,” You said, breaking that little moment “If they are going to work on that all day then I guess I would head home, too. I don’t think I’ll be able to provide anything else either”

“Actually,” Ashton said as he stopped in the middle of the hall leading to the exit, making you stop as well and turn to him “I was wondering if you would want to get some coffee with me now that we are both free. Of course, if you really are free and have nothing else to do and want to actually drink coffee or tea… or maybe not and you’re not that type of person and-”

“Are you asking me out?”

Ashton stopped his rambling and looked at you with an incredulous smile and lightly blushed cheeks.

“I- well, yeah,” He said shyly “Yeah, I am”

You smiled and softly chuckled “Look at the famous drummer all nervous” You teasingly took a step closer to him, not knowing where this confidence was coming from, and he did the same “It’s just me, you know?”

“And that’s exactly the reason why”

“Do I make you nervous, darling?”

“Let’s say that if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have rambled like that, princess”

You pressed your lips in a thin line and smiled as you looked away from him, blushing like a teenager on her first date.

“So…” You trailed off.

“So?”

“Lead the way”

From that moment both of your routines changed once again. Now you took time off the studio at least two times a week to go with Ashton on those small friendly dates as he took you out for coffee or just simple but meaningful talks.

Soon enough you lost all the doubts that made you nervous around him, seeing how easy it was to talk to him and how much you had in common in more aspects than just music. You became more comfortable around him and your level of teasing and playing grew alongside your relationship, not to mention the level of teasing and playing you received from your band members and the other 3 Aussies who joined in on all the fun.

You were used to blushing and dismissing comments about your - undeniable - crush on the drummer, but Ashton didn’t seem to be affected by them at all. On the contrary, Ashton played along and even seemed like he was enjoying it. Like in one particular occasion where you were working on a song together and Michael said:

“Oh my god, date her already!”

Ashton didn’t blink an eye before responding “I’m trying! But she just wants to focus on the harmonies”

And you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put a smile on your face.

Yet, you kept it all professional while being in the studio; no need to mix your personal lives with whatever was going on down there, that’s why those coffee runs were your favorites.

It was an unspoken rule between the two of you that “work-talk” was forever banned from those outings.

“So what are we going to talk about?” You asked him the first time you went into his favorite coffee shop.

“Us” He simply answered, unaware of the butterflies he just set in your stomach.

“Us?”

“Yeah, I want to get to know you better, princess. Who is Y/N Sixx?”

“Who is Ashton Irwin?”

“I asked first”

“I asked second” You countered

Ashton smiled widely “You think you’re clever…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think” You answered, casually sipping on your coffee “I know I’m clever just like I know you like me that way”

You were testing the waters back then, hiding the shaking of your knees under the table as you longed to know how he felt about it. But the way he smiled and how he blushed a little bit made all your fears go away.

“Yeah, that I do”

Your cheeks turned red whenever you reminisced about that moment - or any moment that you spent with Ashton for that matter - which gave you the perfect idea for a song.

“I don’t want to kill my time with somebody else…” You hummed to yourself as you wrote down what you think is the chorus to a new song.

You told Ashton that you were not the type to write silly love songs or very uplifting songs; but there was something in that memory, something in that feeling that you couldn't ignore or just let it be without doing something about it. So, you started to write it.

You couldn't separate the feeling from the art, after all, feelings were what led you to dedicate your life to music. People would say it was because of your parent’s influence but they had little to nothing to do with your decision. This was you, the authentical you writing whatever came to mind and then sharing it with the world and only a few people will get it in its entirety. And surely Ashton was one of them.

“Dadadada something, want you all to myself”

“Wacha doing there, princess?”

Speaking of the devil.

Ashton smiled at you as he hunched over the table you were working on, trying to peek at what you were writing. You lifted the notebook and pressed it against your chest faking offense as he giggled.

“Didn’t your mother taught you not to sneak up on people, darling?” You asked as he walked around your workspace and sat himself down on the chair next to you “Besides, you’re late. You were supposed to meet me here like half an hour ago!”

“Aww, sorry Sixx” Ashton pouted “But there were no chocolate chip cookies left in the shop so I had to go around town to get you some” He then put a bag of freshly made cookies on top of the table with a cup filled with coffee.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Of course I did! You always only eat chocolate chips cookies in the afternoon”

He started to giggle again, ignoring the way you were looking at him “How did you know that?”

“C’mon, Y/N/N, every time we go for coffee you order two, one for the coffee and another one for the road. And every time we cater something you never touch anything but those cookies”

“I never knew you were so observant”

Ashton shrugged “I just pay attention if I like what I see,” He said nonchalantly with a wink, making you blush instantly, but you covered it up with an eye roll.

“God, you’re terrible” You scoffed.

“I’m honest!” You shook your head and went back to writing, but Ashton was not going to let that go so easily. “Look, how else could I know that you always put an extra bag of sugar in your coffee?”

“‘Cause I always drink the same thing,” You said without looking up from your notebook.

“Yeah, a mocha latte with extra chocolate drizzle and no foam. Honestly, how can you handle that much sugar?” You were about to answer but he caught you off. “But that’s not all you drink, whenever you have a bad day you always order a cup of mango and ginger tea because that’s your mother’s favorite drink and it helps you calm down. You also don’t want anyone to know that you’re having a bad day but the minute someone looks away your smile starts to flatter until you’re back in the conversation”

You stopped the writing completely as you turned to him, suddenly feeling how your heart started to jump all over your chest as he kept talking, eyes never leaving yours as he gave you a soft smile, almost as if he was remembering all those moments with you.

“You draw flowers on the corner of your notebooks whenever you feel bored. You love the sad songs on the radio and you know every single word to Lorde’s Melodrama, yet every time you have to choose a playlist you put 2000’s pop and R&B songs because it hypes you up. You hate awkward silences unless you are the one being quiet. You help Dylan dye his hair every time he asks you to because you would trust each other with your lives, you give Cole relationship advice because you care about him and he always appreciates your advice more than anyone’s and Braeden is your best friend because you always say that he is one of the few people that could make you laugh in a bad day and you have no idea how much I want to be included in that list”

“Ashton-”

“You write better with dim light, it helps you concentrate on your work. You say you don’t believe in astrology yet you check your horoscope every day. You want to make sure that everyone has a good time and feels included, that’s why you always make conversations with Micahel about games you never even heard before or let Luke braid your hair when he’s bored or how you switched topics when you noticed that Calum was not engaging as much in a conversation. You literally take care of everyone but you never let anyone take care of you, and when we do you get all shy and you blush as you say thank you and you have no idea how fucking adorable you look”

You sat there speechless as he spoke. You felt the back of your throat dry as you tried to find the right words to answer all of that.

It was too much. The fact that he knew all of that and how he said it like he was just talking about his favorite things in the world, it was just too much but at the same time, you want to hear him say that again.

A weird sense of joy and shyness came over you as he set his hazel eyes on yours. You gave him a small smile as you averted your gaze to the floor.

“Wow, I-” You started “I never thought someone noticed all that”

“How could I not?” You heard him say “You’re all I can think about and to say that I don’t notice you is like saying I don’t notice the sun in the sky or the stars at night. You’re the brightest light out there, Y/N, you shine everywhere you go”

You noticed how he pulled his chair closer to you and suddenly you felt how your chair started to slowly turn his way until you were face to face.

Ashton carefully placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head until you were finally looking into his eyes again.

“There she is!” He smiled when he noticed your blushing cheeks and gleaming eyes.

“What do you mean when you say I’m all you think about?” You asked expectantly, curling your fingers nervously on top of your thighs.

Ashton chuckled. “Well, if you didn’t notice, I really fucking like you, Y/N”

You looked up at him, smiling with hopeful eyes and feeling as if a weight was lifted off your chest thanks to the joy you were experiencing while hearing those words.

“You do?”

“Unless you don’t like me back and I just spilled my feelings for nothing-” You smacked him playfully in the arm “Ouch! I’m kidding! Of course I like you! Fuck, Y/N I’ve been falling for years now and I thought I was being pretty obvious”

You laughed “I thought you were just playing!”

In an instant, Ashton pulled your chair closer and grabbed you by the hip, lifting you up and making you sit on his lap as he hugged you by the waist and you placed your arms around his neck.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” He said, “I’ll do anything to prove it”

“Well,” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and knocking your forehead to his “How about you help me finish this song and then you take me on a date? Cause I’ve been falling for you, too and I don’t want to waste any more time”

Ashton hummed as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, kissing it softly as he murmured “Will I get to kiss my princess at midnight?”

“Maybe… or you can take your chances now if you’d like”

He smiled.

“I like those odds”

And just before you know it, he softly pressed his lips against yours; finally creating a happy beginning for the two of you.

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justalost4girl · 3 years

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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stilemawillow · 3 years

Note

Hi can I request a dadlevi x momreader where they have a teenage daughter and the 104th cadet boys gave a crush on her and Levi gets really protective and the reader has to reassure him that she's not a baby anymore pleaseeee thank you😁

welp, i’m usually slow as a sloth with requests but if you don’t mind it being a short drabble i can sure as hell crack up sth soo sorry if it’s a bit too short but here goes, hope you like it anonie (also i kind of said trabble and it turned out 1500 words, sorry) ________________________________________________

“This is getting out of hand, Levi.” Your words were low around the table at the mess hall as your raven-haired husband fixed the cadets across from you with a murderous glare. You put a hand to his tense shoulder and could distinctly hear Mike and Hanji snort from next to you at Levi’s click of the tongue - still, his abuse didn’t stop.

Your daughter glanced at her father once, smiling happily from her place in between the cheerful males of the 104th squad and proceeding to be rather oblivious when it came to his foul mood. Admittedly, he hadn’t spoken about it to anybody but, as the mother of his rather grown-up child and the woman who’d spent well over two decades with him already, you didn’t need a verbal explanation to gather why he was being so pissy.

Since your daughter had been enlisted in the Corps (something her and Levi and you and her had had two separate rather long arguments about), she was in the spotlight, or, well, something of the sort. She was kind enough to communicate with her peers and funny enough to make them laugh, and the looks she’d mostly inherited from you did its part when it came to charming the rookies you’d later checked were named Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun, Connie Springer, Armin Arlert and partly, the very special Eren Jaeger.

They were her comrades and she regarded them as such - close people she would protect and work with in the future, and they regarded her the same with just a little bit of an ulterior motive. Naturally, parents were good at noticing those stuff and the usually emotion-incompetent Levi Ackerman was no exception when it came to Jean’s heart eyes mirroring his own aimed at you in the past.

As a good father who couldn’t, however, reveal his identity straight-up, he made sure to mentor the kids as harshly as he could, strict in his teachings and rather sadistic out of them. The poor boys had handled stable and kitchen duty more than any previous rookies enlisted and two or three of them had gotten lucky enough to clean up a whole storage of 3DM gear and run laps till they fainted. You were nurturing when it came to those undeserved mishaps and ended up playing the good cop who gave the poor boys water and let them sleep for the rest of the day.

Levi didn’t know it but the harder his punishments got, the more reason his daughter had to pity the boys and question her father’s behaviour. We arrive at a moment where he could no longer think of a suitable punishment to pull through with enough reason and, of course, your endless nagging on the topic. Your daughter didn’t need to know about this secret little bickering, as the cadets didn’t know she was your child and nobody but the superiors were aware of your relationship with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

“I’m just monitoring.” The raven’s excuse was laughable as you were leaving the mess hall and he literally stalked his daughter and her tall charmers to the training fields, where you decided to pull him along into the building and have a little talk.

“This is ridiculous, do you realise what you’re doing?” Your question struck nothing in him as he made his way to the second floor of the building only so he could observe from above the training the 104th cadets would undertake with Hanji. His hawk eyes pierced the window and the boys surrounding his precious little baby, and in that moment you felt a little soft when it came to reprimanding him.

“I’m watching my fucking child.” He argued with a grumble and crossed arms, making you sigh as you leaned against the window and observed his features. You could guess only by the pissed off twitch of his brow your daughter had been paired to combat with some of the boys he so disliked.

“But she’s not in danger.” You objected with a snort to which he rolled his eyes. “Also our child.” The addition made his frown more sarcastic, then you pushed at his shoulder and glanced outside. The sun was shining and your husband was silent - and you had to be a good wife and mother at the same time. “Now, I need you to hear me out. Our daughter is fifteen years old and she’s part of the worst group possible. Maybe we can concern ourselves more with her safety and happiness, not so much with the boys she has as friends.”

“It’s unacceptable for them to slack off this much, not to mention you’re defending her. You pointed it out, she’s just fifteen.” The emphasis was a cold slap in your face, then you were eyeing him pointedly.

“Levi,” his grey hues left the window for a second to lock with your gaze, “I was fifteen when I met you.” Your words made him suck in a breath but his obstinance had no limits when it came to his overprotective nature.

“All the more fucking reason for me to protect her.”

“No, all the more reason for us to watch from afar and let her live her life. She’s a teenager once and the fact she’s bonding with her comrades isn’t going to kill her.” The brow he quirked at you made you glare, then you beat him to speaking. “She’s not a baby anymore, we take care of her, yes, but we have to give her some freedom too. Otherwise, we’ll get a rebellious period and I can’t handle managing both your explosive asses once that happens.” His spiteful snort was provocative but his figure turned away from the window to glare at you - good, so he was buckling.

“My ass is explosive only when I drink too much coffee.” His childish retort made you chuckle - you took it as him admitting defeat by not addressing the issue any further.

“And when Hanji cooks.” Your joke called forth an eye-roll from him, then his lips pursed and you smiled at his pale countenance. “It’s fine being worried, she’s been sheltered her whole life and suddenly you’re forced to watch her form connections with people who’re not us. I would say, however,” your smile slowly curled into a smirk as you glanced at the training fields through the window, “she can beat up the boys if they annoy her without your help.”

His brows furrowed and his attention followed your gaze, and you watched your fifteen-year-old daughter flip the blond Reiner Braun over her shoulder with a move Levi had taught her when she was ten. He fell to the ground and, from experience, you knew how much it hurt when all the air was pushed out of your lungs in that moment. Next thing he knew, a foot had stepped on his dominant hand’s wrist and a small hand held a wooden knife to his throat.

In your peripheral vision, you saw the satisfied flicker in Levi’s orbs and decided he wouldn’t be arguing with you on the topic of this anymore. Also, he might as well spare the boys their duties. If his daughter could handle the biggest one this easily, she could land a kick to the testicles effortlessly if any of them proved problematic. You shook your head at the sight and how proud Levi seemed due to it, then you realised he was back to watching you.

“On the topic of us meeting when you were still a brat, are you insinuating anything?” You began waving your hands around in a “no” when he glared at the field, then at you. You’d just denied when he tactfully cut in with: “Far as I remember, you jumped me and you had eighteen.” You let out an awkward laugh and his glare got all the more deadly.

“Haha, about that. I actually lied so you’d let me.” The slow admittance slipped past your dry lips and you watched your husband doubt everything you’d told him in your shared life. You could see him recall everything and make sure he was in the right - except you’d been stupid as a teenager and twice as scheming.

“But your birthday had passed.” He argued coldly, unsuspecting of the truth and ever so sweet because he put so much trust in you.

“And about that, my birthday’s kind of a month after the date I told you.” You watched his eyes widen and began ranting, as per tradition when he came close to blowing a fuse and you wanted to avoid being collateral damage. “I know what you’re thinking, I’m so lucky that my wife is even younger than I thought she was, she’s so attractive and youthful---”

“I’m thinking how I’m about to beat your ass in our next combat session for lying to me for twenty fucking years, that’s what I’m thinking.”

#asks #drabbles #drabbles for anonies #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #fluff with a daughter #with a spin at the end #because parents are more iconic than their kids sometimes

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persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Debriefing

Deacon and Sole fanfic.

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Debriefing

Deacon and Sole walked in complete silence through the abandoned Nuka-World park. Not because they were worried they’d attract the attention of ferals, but because neither of them seemed to be mature enough to address the incredible kiss they’d both just shared. Of course, nearly having Sole kill him when she got poisoned by HalluciGen and meeting a super dramatic Ghoul named Oswald had also distracted them. But Deacon was fairly certain the kiss was the real reason for the silent treatment he was currently getting.

I shouldn’t have done it, Deacon thought to himself. Although even as he thought this, his mind replayed the sensation of Sole’s lips against his and he felt his cheeks flush.

Sole was walking ever-so-slightly ahead of him, her hips swaying back and forth in a way that Deacon tried to ignore.

Right. He needed to fix this. To get things back to normal.

“Hey Charmer, did I ever tell you about the time I went undercover as Magnolia for an entire week?”

Sole slowed her pace a bit so that Deacon could fall in step beside her. “Go on,” she said, raising an eyebrow with an amused look in her eye.

“I did the whole shebang. Donned the red dress, wore a black wig, sang all the songs.”

“Flirted with the patrons?” She asked.

“That was my favorite part,” Deacon said. “You wouldn't believe how many free drinks I got that week. It’s amazing what people will do for a pretty face.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Sole’s lips, but the action just brought Deacon’s attention right back to the very area he was trying to forget.

He cleared his throat nervously before continuing. “I'll tell you, though. I’m not a fan of shaving my legs. I could never quite get that little area behind my knee.”

At this, Sole snorted, trying to suppress her laugh and failing miserably. “How do you even come up with these ridiculous lies?”

She still wasn’t looking at him, but he preferred it that way. If she wasn’t looking at him, then they weren’t in danger of suddenly kissing each other.

“Who says that’s a lie?” Deacon asked, his voice easily slipping back into its smooth unconcerned cadence.

“Literally anyone who’s ever met you,” she said, looking down at the ground as they walked. “I can read you most of the time. But I’m finding it harder and harder these days.”

“Oh?” Deacon asked.

He wanted to know what she’d meant by that, but he never did get his answer. Instead, he heard the familiar clomp, clomp, clomp of power armor approaching them. Deacon rolled his eyes at the Paladin’s lack of subtlety and Sole moved a bit further away from Deacon.

The motion would have been almost imperceptible to anyone but him. But it still gave him complicated feelings. Was he hurt that she didn’t want to be seen being this familiar with him? Or did it give him hope that she was feeling that same connection to him, even if she was trying to ignore it.

“Soldier,” Danse said, nodding to Sole before turning to Deacon. “Liar.”

“Ouch,” Deacon said, placing a hand over his heart and stumbling back a few paces dramatically. “Shots fired, Paladin. Right out the gate too.”

“Told you everyone knows you’re a liar,” Sole said under her breath, grinning as she looked at Danse.

MacCready appeared suddenly beside Danse, out of breath and wiping blood from his hands. “There’s a serious Bloodworm infestation here. I think we should get out of Dry Rock Gulch. It’s not worth the effort.”

“That’s just as well,” Sole said. “The Synth isn’t in Nuka-World. They’ve already made it out of The Commonwealth.”

“Is that so?” Danse asked. “Outstanding!”

“Bingo!” Deacon shouted.

Everyone stopped and turned to look at him in confusion.

“Danse said ‘outstanding’. That’s the last square I needed on my boy scout bingo card.”

No one said anything. Instead, Sole’s cheeks immediately flushed a dark shade of scarlet as her eyes grew as wide as saucers. She stared at Deacon in horror and had she not immediately looked away from him again, he would have thought there was a Deathclaw behind him.

Danse cleared his throat uncomfortably before Sole began loudly speaking. “So, I think we’re all done here. The Synth is safe and we’re all alive. Let’s head out.”

Sole’s voice sounded unnatural. And the way Danse turned away from Deacon with a stronger look of annoyance on his face than normal, told him that something was wrong.

As Sole and Danse began walking away, Mac sidled up beside Deacon and said in a low voice, “Not really your color, is it?” Before snickering and joining Sole and the tin can.

Deacon brought his hand up to his lips. When he pulled them away, he could see that they were stained with Sole’s red lipstick.

“Perfect,” he groaned.

--------

Things back at Railroad HQ had been normal when Sole and Deacon returned to report to Desdamona. Painfully normal. The kind of normal you got when you were trying too hard to make things seem normal. Sole was still avoiding eye contact with Deacon, but when she thought he wasn’t looking, he’d catch her staring.

Again, his sunglasses proved beneficial for more than just his Railroad missions.

“Thank you both for your continued efforts on behalf of The Railroad,” Desdemona said, after they’d given her the news concerning the Synth in Nuka-World. “Charmer, you’re getting much more efficient in your debriefings.”

“Charmer can debrief me any time,” Deacon said, giving her finger guns as Sole just shook her head in exasperation.

“Deacon, do I need to refresh your memory on the no fraternization rule?” Desdamona asked.

“Oh come on, that was funny,” Deacon insisted.

“Deacon?” Desdamona was still waiting for him to answer.

“No Des. I’ll do my best to shield your ears from my incredible wit. But just know you’ll be missing out.”

“I think I’ll survive,” Des said shortly. “You’re both dismissed.”

And with that, the imposing woman walked away.

“Sheesh, tough crowd,” Deacon said, pulling on the collar of his white shirt for effect as he smiled over at Sole.

“I mean… she is right though,” Sole said, looking down at her hands instead of at Deacon. “We probably shouldn’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Are you… we joke about that kind of stuff all the time,” Deacon said incredulously. “I mean… if it makes you uncomfortable of course I’ll stop. I just… thought that was sort of our thing.”

Deacon could feel his cheeks heating up as he desperately tried to save the situation. If Sole was uncomfortable with their joking, it was news to him. She was usually the one to start the innuendos. But he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

The kiss may have tarnished their friendship a bit, mostly because it made it impossible for Deacon to keep lying to himself about his feelings. But he didn’t want it to completely ruin what they already had.

“I just… don’t want people to talk,” Sole said simply, still looking down at her hands.

“Yeah, of course, Boss. Whatever you say,” Deacon answered, rubbing the back of his neck before trying to assume a nonchalant posture. “Just trying to keep things light. I’ll resort to the old failsafes instead. You know… the nuclear apocalypse… the hopelessness of our existence… Danse’s extensive grooming routine.”

Sole almost smiled at this last bit. He could tell from the way her jaw tensed. But instead of smiling she just nodded. “Thanks, Deeks.”

Without another word, Sole gave Deacon a curt smile, turned on her heel, and walked away, leaving him totally and utterly confused about where they stood.

Idiot, he thought. Did I seriously think I could kiss Sole without things getting weird? Do I really want to throw away my closest friendship just because I… what? Feel something for her? Big deal. I feel something for Fancy Lad Snack Cakes and I’m not making moves on them.

Deacon refrained from letting out the gigantic sigh that had settled in his chest, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Instead, he ducked into the escape tunnel and out the back door into the small underground room just beyond the main section of Railroad HQ.

Pulling out a cigarette, Deacon nearly jumped out of his skin when Sole lit a match beside him.

“Geez! Are you kidding me?” Deacon whisper-shouted at her, jumping back against the wall and hitting his head in the process.

He dropped his unlit cigarette to the ground and rubbed the back of his head where it had made contact with the bricks.

“I thought you were always aware of your surroundings.”

“And I thought you were a baby Deathclaw about to drag me off to mommy like a bleeding morbid trophy,” he said, still whisper-shouting. “Why are you back here, Sole?”

“I needed some alone time,” she said, her face slightly amused as she watched him come down from his scare. “And then you just followed right behind me.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Deacon said. “I didn’t even see you come back here. Trust me, I don’t go around looking for humiliation more than once a day.”

“Excuse me?” Sole asked, her eyes narrowing at his words.

Deacon swallowed, realizing he was being too honest again. He didn’t want her to know he was hurt. Hell, he didn’t even want her to know he had actual feelings for her.

“I mean… I have gone looking for humiliation in the past,” he began, trying to think up a lie funny enough to distract Sole from his honesty. “Like this one time--.”

“Deacon, stop,” Sole said, shaking her head. “Sorry, I just… I can’t do this.”

“Yep, no problem,” Deacon said automatically, without really knowing what she was talking about specifically.

Odds were, he probably didn’t want to know. He’d made a point of detaching himself from the people around him. It was a necessity in The Railroad. But it had also been crucial for his survival after Barbara. Sole broke down that resolve and made him feel out of control in a way that he both loved and hated.

Sole turned to leave but stopped herself and instead faced Deacon once more, looking at the ground with a deep sigh.

“I’m just going to say it, okay?” she began, now looking up to meet his eyes before frowning. “Geez, Deeks, will you please take those sunglasses off so I can actually see you?”

Panic.

He needed his sunglasses. Otherwise Sole might find out just what a terrible bluffer he actually was.

“You know what? Never mind. This might actually be easier if I can’t see you.”

Her words were doing nothing to comfort him and he was desperately trying to quell the mild panic attack that was rising in his chest. “Sole, if I’m dying, you really need to just rip off the bandaid and tell me.”

He grinned at her, but they both knew it was a facade to mask his panic.

“I appreciate you telling me about Barbara. That took a lot of trust to open up to me about her.”

Well this wasn’t looking good.

“And I felt instantly connected to you because of it. We… we both knew what it was like to experience loss.” Sole frowned but pushed through it. “And honestly, after everything with Nate, I didn’t think I’d ever… feel anything for someone again.”

Deacon had to stop this conversation. He’d made her uncomfortable. And he hated himself for that.

“You don’t need to say anything else, Boss. I got it loud and clear,” Deacon said.

But Sole wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

“I don’t think you do,” Sole said. “I get that you flirt. It’s what you do. And it was always fine with me but… I can’t keep putting myself out there just to find out that this whole thing is a big joke to you. I’m not like that. It… it hurts too much.”

Deacon’s heart twisted inside of him. Had he misunderstood this situation completely? There was no way. Because as much as he’d dreamed about Sole reciprocating his feelings, he never thought it would actually happen.

Deacon had been a bigot back in his youth. Someone had died. He’d been a violent man. Sure he’d changed, but there was no way someone as good as Sole would be able to look completely past that. She may say his past wasn’t important, but she was just being polite. That’s who Sole was.

There was no way she could ever truly forgive him. He knew that. And he didn’t think he’d deserve that kind of forgiveness even if she did offer it.

“I respect you too much to break up our team, because we really do work well together… I just need the flirting to stop,” Sole said, looking down at her hands again as she twisted them together. “I want… I want you, Deacon. And it’s fine that I can’t have you. Really. I can learn to live with that. I’m a big girl. But… I’m not good at differentiating your joking with what’s real. I never have been. You know that.”

Deacon was staring at Sole now with the most shocked expression he’d ever worn.

She was saying that she had feelings for him. Wasn’t she?

Of course, he could just ask her for clarification, but that went against every instinct inside of him that was screaming at him to make a joke.

He realized a bit too late that he had been staring at her in silence for quite a while. She looked up at him uncomfortably with a wince. “So… are we good?” she asked. “Even though… you know… I just told you I have a crush on you like some five-year-old on the playground?”

There it was. The confirmation.

Deacon’s mouth might have actually dropped open in shock. He wasn’t sure.

“Okay, well… this has been sufficiently awkward. But I said what I needed to say. So…” she gave him a soft awkward slug on the shoulder. “Good talk, Sport.”

She instantly shook her head in embarrassment at her own words.

“Yeah, I’m going to leave now,” she mumbled, ducking her head down and turning to walk away.

“Wait, hold up just a minute,” Deacon said, finally regaining control of his brain. At least partially.

Sole turned around slowly and reluctantly.

“I swear if you make fun of me for this, Deeks, I will fill your pillowcase with cayenne pepper while you sleep.”

“Whoa,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. “That escalated way faster than it probably should have.”

Deacon reached down and hesitantly took Sole’s hand in his own.

“I just… are you actually saying you have feelings for me?” Deacon asked.

Sole’s cheeks flushed at his straightforward words. Deacon was never straightforward. Except for the time he’d told Sole about Barbara.

“Seriously, Deacon? You’re going to make me say it again?”

“You feel things for me?” Deacon repeated, trying to rephrase his question so that there was no confusion. He wasn’t doing a great job. “Not like the way Danse has feelings for his power armor, right?”

“I mean, I’ve seen the way he looks at his power armor. So, maybe,” Sole said, that ghost of a smile returning to her lips. “Seriously, can I go now? I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this humiliated. This is worse than the dream where I show up to school naked.”

Deacon’s eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses at this statement. “Okay, well I’d definitely like to hear more about that in a minute,” Deacon began. “But I just… I feel like I need to be absolutely certain. You, the perfect, beautiful, compassionate, smart, brave, sexy, savior of The Commonwealth, have romantic feelings towards a former-bigot, current-man-child, broken, immature, and hopelessly lost human?”

Realization seemed to dawn on Sole in that moment. At his words she could see the insecurity dripping off of him, cleverly disguised by jokes and a devil-may-care attitude.

He felt the shift between them. Felt the way she squeezed his hand with confidence now, knowing that his flirting wasn’t a joke. That his casual contact wasn’t all that casual.

“Well… the jury’s still out on whether or not you’re a human or a synth,” she whispered with a grin. “I still haven’t tried your recall code on you.”

With that, Sole pressed her lips to Deacon’s. He hadn’t kissed Sole many times, so he didn’t have much to compare it to, but this kiss definitely felt different. Her hesitation was gone. Her lips were confident as they moved over his, and he smiled at her touch.

“Can we go back to that whole, dream business you were talking about a second ago?” Deacon asked, but Sole instantly silenced him with another kiss, which he was just fine with.

Her hands roamed slowly up his chest, as if she were taking her time to enjoy the moment. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin at her touch.

As she gently bit his bottom lip, something he definitely hadn’t expected from her, he couldn’t stop himself from being too aware of their surroundings. He wanted to melt into the kiss. He wanted to thoroughly enjoy this moment. There weren’t any more questions between them. They both understood each other finally.

But they were also in Railroad HQ. Anti-fraternization Zone Number 1. They may have been in the escape tunnel, but agents regularly used it as an overflow for the headquarters.

“Hey,” Deacon said, pulling away from Sole regretfully. Confusion lined her features. “So… I want this. You have absolutely no idea how much,” he began. “But… we’re not really in the best place for… grown up bonding time.”

Sole smiled up at him. “Doesn’t that sort of make it more exciting?” she asked.

What? Where had this Sole come from?

Not waiting for his response, she kissed him again, harder this time. He tried to exercise restraint.

He failed.

Instead, he pushed Sole up against the wall, parting her lips with his tongue and pressing his body against hers. Every fiber of his being burned to be even closer to her, but even with this bold new Sole that stood before him, he knew she wasn’t that type. She’d want to take things somewhat slow. And he was fine with that.

Besides, after years of being completely touch-starved, any contact was like a revelation for Deacon.

His hands found her waist, softly kneading the smooth skin there as his mouth moved against hers. She made a little noise that encouraged him further, prompting him to trail his kisses down to her collarbone instead.

She grabbed his hair in a slightly painful manner, but he didn’t mind. Instead, he focused on the very important work he was doing on her neck while her hands pulled him more firmly against her.

“Deeks,” she said breathlessly, though he hardly heard her. His lips were too preoccupied with just how perfect her neck seemed to be. How had he not noticed before? “Dea-con,” she said again, still just as breathless.

This time he heard her. And he loved the way his name sounded when she was the one saying it. The way her breath hitched at the end of the first syllable when he’d nipped at her neck. That desperate quality to her voice.

“Mmm?” he mumbled, now slowly moving his lips back towards hers.

“You…” but her words were cut off by another kiss. “Said we should be careful here?” she finally managed, between kisses. “About Des?”

This was more like the reserved Sole he knew. But he was enjoying himself too much. He was finally kissing her. Really kissing her. Not just for fun. Not as part of a ruse for a mission. Not in some psychotic funhouse where he wasn’t sure if she really wanted to or if it was just some weird trick of the drugs in Kiddie Kingdom.

Being able to touch someone after so long was like an oasis in a desert. And she saw him. Really saw him. That was normally the last thing he wanted from someone. But it was all he wanted with Sole.

“Screw it,” Sole said between another kiss before she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him harder against her body, shuddering as they crashed together.

“I already told you, I left a backup in the escape tunnel,” Tinker Tom said from somewhere near the room’s entrance. “Now if y’all would give me two seconds, I could actually go get it.”

Sole instantly broke the kiss, looking wide-eyed at Deacon in a panic. He pressed a finger against her lips and grabbed her hand. Without a word, Deacon pulled her towards the exit at the far end of the room. It would lead them out into the cool night air of The Commonwealth.

As he held her hand and pulled her behind him, he couldn’t stop the embarrassing little smile that broke across his face. He heard Sole giggle behind him and it only added to the pure unadulterated joy that was beginning to permeate his very being.

She saw him. She saw all of him. And she still wanted him.

------

Note: This fic makes me seem like I don’t like Danse. I actually love him! I just like to make fun of him :)

Also, if you enjoy my writing, I’m an author IRL. I’ve got 13 published books, but my favorite is Parrish. You should check it out if you like ghosts and love stories between weirdos.

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #deacon x sole #deacon x sole survivor #deacon fanfic #fallout deacon #fallout deacon fanfic

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garrothromeave · 4 years

Text

let’s talk about minecraft diaries rebirth.

and why it’s literally amazing. (warning: this will contain spoilers. lots of them. also, long post ahead.)

i think a lot of people hate mcdr because they were expecting a remake; but the point of rebirth is for jess to rewrite it. it wasn't supposed to be exactly the same.

honestly i went into mcdr with a closed mind. as an og mcd fan, i thought that this was going to suck ass and that i'd rant about how bad it was to my friends later. but actually watching it, i just... couldn't help but immediately fall in love with it.

ik im probably the only motherfucker that likes mcdr, but honestly how could i not? for one, garroth and zenix actually have personalities at the beginning. AND; the villagers? actually amazing. donna made me smile, visher made me laugh and cry, brendan was just bein as good as ever. like... i even didn't despise emmalyn with every ounce of my soul like i usually do?? the characterizations of them were GOOD, man.

and honestly, aphmau like--the way she spoke, her whole thing. it was reallyyy well done in my opinion. she was oblivious to things, but it wasn't overdone and wasn't done in a way to make her annoying. she's a very appealing character in mcdr, a main protagonist i do not mind following along with. her dynamics to the characters are really cool and all very unique. gonna cut it here so i don’t clog y’all’s feed cuz i got a lot to say :)

the early use of aphmau’s powers was actually pretty cool as well, it also really showed how clueless aphmau really was to everything going on around her. AND UH, THE FACT THAT SHE THOUGHT THAT GARROTH FELT FAMILIAR? GOLDEN. absolutely golden.

AND GENE OH BOY, the early introduction of gene? ik a lot of people are upset about it, but god DAMN i love it so much. his role in the story is very important in original, and i cannot express how much joy this brought me learning that he was actually getting the proper attention for it. and the fact that gene and aphmau were working together?? i mean ik gene was just trying to use her to get back to the "shadow abyss" (pretty pog replacement for the nether, gg) but god DAMN i loved every moment of it. i found their dynamic to be pretty fuckin funny to be honest, would absolutely love to see more of it.

i might be biased considering gene is one of my absolute favorite characters, but i honestly think that introducing gene this early on in the story was a good move. again, he's literally the right-hand man to the shadow lord. it makes you really wonder why he didn't have as much of an important role in season 1 or even 2 of the original mcd plotline. also, we get some of that good-ol-fashioned exposition with seeing early on how vylad and gene interact. vylad’s at a very strange point in the story right now; his motives are unclear, even to the side he’s ‘supposed’ to be taking (aka, a shadow knight.) another early introduction to a character is zane! this, my friends, is good. really good. i’d say that zane is the main antagonist of season 1 in the original series--and he wasn’t even introduced until like, episode 50. it’s not necessarily a bad thing, but him being introduced this early on really gives the audience a better understanding of what threats are out there and what our protagonist will have to encounter in the future. in the original series, there’s not much explanation as to why lords are disappearing/dying left and right--and while yes, that was supposed to be the mystery of it, having some of that early information is a better move in terms of writing.

AND IVAN?? BEING A PART OF THE JURY OF NINE?? I COULD NOT HAVE ASKED FOR ANYTHING MORE LIKE GOD DAMN that was a very pleasant surprise i'll just say that, thank you jess :)

and no i did not loop the 4 minutes of screentime laurance got in that one episode haha who would do that i would never do that anyways

SPEAKING of laurance, im so glad jess actually wrote him in this early :) she totally could have just waited for the first time aphmau visits meteli and meets him there, but no! she put him in an early episode. i dont even care if she did it just to shut up the fans about laurance but man that made me so happy seeing him, even if it was only for a bit.

okay i kinda wanna go over the guards real fast firstly; garroth. ignoring how weird the helmet showing emotions is, i really like how garroth is portrayed. he's under a lot of pressure because the village is putting a lot of the blame on him for malik's death, and he's trying his hardest to keep things running. the fact that garroth utterly refused the to take up the position of lord and even got a little snappy about it was actually really cool to see as well. and while he doesn’t have that same “reserved, quiet, observant” feel as the original mcd version of him had, this version of garroth is absolutely awesome. he’s more direct and blunt, is significantly more sarcastic, and isn’t as stiff or as much as a pushover as he is in the original. he even has a sense of humour. also, no homo, but he’s kinda adorable. plus, the desperation that he goes through during the whole thing is just--it’s really cool to see how hard he’s trying to prove himself and help the village. my rating for mcdr garroth? 9/10. the helmet... the helmet is the main thing throwin me off, i can’t lie. next, zenix. oh BOY do i have a lot to say about this man. first of all, his and garroth’s dynamic is incredible. when i saw how the interacted with each other, my first thought was: father and son. zenix has this immaturity to him that is so fucking fun and interesting to watch, and seeing how garroth scolds him is so fuckin good man. and! seeing how he interacts with the rest of the village... honestly, if jess ever picks this story up again, i would probably cry when zenix (literally) backstabs garroth. HELL, i hope that’s something that still happens, it’d be heartbreaking to witness this character that we’ve come to love hurting his mentor, the man who took him in. he’s just a really good character all in all, and much more appealing than the original mcd zenix. ...except season 3 zenix. no zenix can be better than that one. either way, zenix is amazing written to be the comic relief and he’s just an all-out lovable character in this series. finally, dale and brian. yes i’m going to group them up because there’s not much to say regarding them, but i do want to address them. for starters, we have brian; who’s already 16 when the story starts. good on jess for doing that, because in the original aphmau watched brian be born and age INCREDIBLY quick, haha. THOUGH i do feel like there’s a slight connection lost there--one of the hardest things about brian’s betrayal in the original series in the fact that we watched him grow up in phoenix drop. we were there from the moment he was born, to the second he betrayed phoenix drop. BUT OF COURSE, this version is a lot more realistic, so it’s understandable. i just think that if it’s brian who’ll be betraying phoenix drop again (if it even goes down that same route), it won’t hit as hard unless jess really takes the time to grow the connection between brian and aphmau. as for dale; gotta admit, love it. and like, i think one of the main things about how good of a call it was to make him a drunkard from the beginning is considering how much the village is struggling. the fact that the second-in-command is literally drunk all of the time really conveys the message of, “yeah. this village needs help.” plus, he’s another good comic relief character. i loved seeing molly and dale’s relationship too, it was very funny. PLUS. we were blessed with a well scene, in which aphmau had to help villagers out of the well. i don’t know about you guys, but that was one of my favorite nods to the original series. i cannot thank jess enough for that, there was a smile on my face the entire time. another amazing thing--visher’s character. instead of just being introduced to this quirky lil merchant who only had one or two interactions with aphmau like in the first one, we got to sit there and really get a feel for someone worth remembering and worth mourning over. we had a reason to be sad over his death, it wasn’t just some npc getting blown up suddenly. this was different, and this hurt. one of the major things that i hope is to come out of this is for jess to fix the major mistakes she had when writing the first series. she’d expressed how unhappy she was with some of the decisions she made, and i’m glad that she’s getting that second chance to undo the things she didn’t like. this series also gives her a second chance to really, really dig into characters and their motives. like, gimme laurance backstory in better detail. or like, garroth and zane’s relationship from back when they were kids? or how vylad died and who killed him? etc etc. she’s already done an excellent job so far, and i can’t wait to see where this goes. that is, if she ever continues it. god, i wish there were more episodes so that i could seriously let you guys know how beautiful of a series this is. there’s so much i want to say about rebirth, but i think i’ll stop here. i might say some more shit about it later, but if there’s anything i’d want you to take away from this, it’s: give minecraft diaries rebirth a chance. there’s a lot of potential, and this is a chance for jess to really change things for the better! ... but again, that is if this ever is continued.

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #minecraft diaries rebirth #garroth #laurance #gene #zenix #vylad #rant

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ot7always · 4 years

Text

My Fair Lady

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Captain of the Guard!Reader

Genre: Historical/Fantasy AU, fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Sparring (swordfight/fistfight), I’ve literally never fenced in my life I’m sorry for any errors, pining, mentions of battle scars, angst angst angst, angsty sex, crying during sex (and not in a sexy way), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, it’s super angsty but I promise it’ll be okay

Rating: 18+

Summary: His brother unable to spar with him that day, Crown Prince Taehyung comes to you in need of a partner.

A/N: This fic was such a wild ride of a writing experience, and I literally lost chunks of writing because of my laptop crashing multiple times. But this fic is my baby, please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @wwilloww for beta reading for me, and also @peekaboongi for crying with me as I wrote.

Tagging @moonmintrails @ppersonna @irissilujm @dee-ehn

Masterlist

You gaze swept across the palace training grounds, hands clasped firmly behind your back. You watched as your soldiers trained, whether it be alone or with each other, and kept an eye out for any glaring errors – incorrect form, weak footwork, and the like.

As the youngest Captain of the Guard in history, it was your duty to ensure each of your soldiers, men and women alike, were in prime condition. Though the position was not passed through bloodlines, you had taken over from your father following his retirement from duty. He was a very well-respected man, and you were determined not to disappoint him. You would continue to prove time and time again that you deserved the honour of your place.

You kept your eyes forward even as you sensed a tall presence settle beside you, taking on a similar stance to your own.

“My Lady,” a deep voice greeted. Your nose crinkled at the title. While it was true your family was of noble station, you much preferred to be addressed as “Captain.” You sought to distance yourself from your cousins who enjoyed hosting fancy balls and tittering about the latest messenger visiting from overseas.

You gave the man beside you a brief once-over, eyes quickly returning to your soldiers in the field. The Crown Prince was looking particularly fresh today, white cotton shirt laced neatly and tucked into black pants that moulded to him like water. His dark curls appeared freshly washed, small tendrils swaying in the wind, having escaped the small tie at the nape of his neck. He smelled suspiciously of lavender. Perhaps he had been delving into his sister’s perfumes once again.

“Your Highness,” you nodded curtly, ignoring the pang in your chest at his appearance. While you tried to put up a good front, you were not immune to the Prince’s charms.

“You know I don’t like when you call me that,” he smiled bashfully at his feet before turning the entirety of his attention to you. “I am in need of a favour,” he continued, gaze imploring.

“What can I do for you, Your Highness?” you responded, suppressing a smirk when you heard him sigh at your words. Having grown up around him, even sharing lessons and training together before you surpassed his abilities, you would consider the two of you friends – more, even. However, you had an image to keep up, barriers that needed to be kept in place lest anyone question your ability to prioritize the royal family’s safety without distraction.

“I require a sparring partner.”

“Do you forget yourself, Your Highness?” you grinned at the notion. Not many dared to challenge you to a fight, and the last time Taehyung matched you in skill he was perhaps a foot or two shorter.

“I beg of you, Captain. My brother is feeling out of sorts and I am in need of a distraction. I have been meeting with courtiers all morning and I cannot begin to express how tiring-”

“He’s taken ill?” you cut in, eyes wide and tone laced with concern as you finally turned to give the Prince your undivided attention. His younger brother was only 15, and you had developed a soft spot for the boy over the years. The plague which tended to come and go from your Kingdom was no joke. While many recovered, many more slowly but surely lost their lives.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, My Lady. Our doctors have assured us it is simply a minor ailment.” His heart warmed at your obvious affection for his brother, knowing how much you cherished his younger siblings. He wondered whether he himself held a similar place in your heart. “Let’s not concentrate on that which will resolve itself quickly in time. Rather, I am still in dire need of a partner. Please?” he appeased, giving you his best impression of a pout. You tried not to crack a smile at the resemblance to his sister.

Your hesitation did not last long – you found it difficult to deny Taehyung anything, not that he asked much of you very often. “Very well, then. Though, we are not exactly dressed for the occasion, are we?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. It was true. Having only recently left a meeting with those who would accompany Their Majesties to town the next day, you were dressed in a white blouse, dark leather bodice laced on top. While your leather boots allowed for sufficient footwork, the suppressed movement of your torso was not exactly ideal for a fight.

“We both know that you are more than capable of fighting in such attire. Come,” he said, giving you no time to refuse before you were led to the central combat ring. The ring was often used to host friendly tournaments and was clearly visible from any spot in the field.

“Are you so keen to showcase your defeat to my entire squadron?” you teased, shooting the Prince a grin as you caught the foil he tossed to you. Light, thin, and dull, it ensured you did not cause any serious injury lest you accidentally hit him. Cotton, after all, was not the most ideal material to prevent bruising. As for you? Well, you didn’t plan on getting hit anyway.

You took up your position opposite him, bent slightly at the knee, sword in hand, opposing hand clenched comfortably behind your back. You watched as Taehyung settled into the same posture. You clicked your tongue in disapproval upon seeing his form. Shoulders tense already, you sighed. Well, you would just have to see if he fixed his error later on.

“Ready when you are, Sweet Prince,” you smirked, exhaling a laugh as his face flushed. It was a nickname given to him by the men and women he’d seduced and bedded over the years. Even if he’d invited them into his bed only once and never again, they never stopped singing his praises. A part of you was desperate to know what he did to impress them.

“I don’t have all day, Your Highness,” you called out, smile slowly lighting up your face at his embarrassment. A lie, of course. If he asked you to stand there and wait for hours while you simply stared at each other you would do it. You liked to tell yourself it was because of your royal duty, but in reality you had never been able to say no to him, even in your childhood. There was something so charming yet shy, so mature yet naïve about him, that had you wishing for his happiness at every moment. He was a walking contradiction you wanted nothing more than to solve.

Having collected himself, Taehyung launched himself at you quickly, sword flying its way toward your shoulder – easily parried. You figured the two of you would ease into a proper match. After all, neither of you were properly warmed up, and you refused to listen to the Prince’s complaining of sore muscles if you could avoid it.

You remained light on your feet, focusing solely on defending against his basic lunges rather than attempting to retaliate. That would come in time. It wouldn’t be so enjoyable if you didn’t toy with him just a little, right?

After several minutes of rather simple steps, you figured you were ready to break a sweat. The next time his blade swung at you, you batted it aside and thrust your own at his chest, tip poking into his shirt before he could even blink.

“Come now, Your Highness. Shall we see what my father taught you?” you taunted, backing away to your original position. Your heart warmed when you saw the fire light in his eyes at the challenge, his playful expression temporarily replaced by sheer focus. You couldn’t conclude which was more handsome.

The next time he flew at you, it was with newfound ardour, the clink of metal on metal a familiar symphony to your ears. The Prince was skilled, you would give him that. Not that you were surprised – you recalled a time in his youth when he dedicated himself fully to training in this exact spot.

You gave yourself fully to your reflexes, blade swinging left, right, and circling round as you blocked his attacks. Quickly side-stepping a stab toward your neck, you grinned. Despite your original hesitance, you were enjoying yourself. Seeing the sweat form on Taehyung’s brow from his effort, you were happy to see him dedicate himself to something so completely. His technique focused on agility over power, something well-suited to his long limbs and lean muscle. You were the same – fight smart, not hard, your father used to tell you.

Backing away suddenly, Taehyung pouted slightly as he caught his breath. “I can tell that you are going easy on me, Captain. At least try to hit me, I swear to you that I can handle it.” You chuckled at his words.

“Very well, Your Highness. Though if I may point out, perhaps it would serve you better if you relaxed your muscles more. How can you expect to hit me when your shoulder fails to follow through?” you chided. Taehyung bit his lip at your words.

“My apologies, Captain. I find it difficult when I am near you.” Your brows furrowed, unsure whether you heard correctly. He has trouble relaxing around you? You preferred not to pick apart such a statement.

In answer, you lunged at him, a tide of satisfaction flowing through you when he moved immediately in response. You allowed him to continue on the offensive, though this time you followed up every few parries with a riposte, ensuring you never actually hit him with your blade.

Steel was flying through the air so fast it was a blur, your focus lying solely on the flurry of blades between your bodies. You quickly lost track of time, though based on the slight burn in your calves the activity must have gone on for quite a while.

It became almost like a rhythm – feet dancing, you blocked thrice, circling around for a responding thrust. Little did you know, in your focus you missed Taehyung’s wistful glances as he took in your appearance – gaze sharp, hair around your face flying as it escaped your tight knot at the back.

While you did your best not to make contact, your efforts were not perfect. Because as the Prince stepped left rather than right as you had expected, your blade made full and hard contact with his abdomen, confirmed by the faint oof that accompanied the motion. Broken out of your trance, you stared wide-eyed. “My apologies-”

You let down your guard for only a moment, but it was enough for him to swipe your blade aside, his own resting right between your collarbones. Raising your eyes to meet his own, you found only a grin, no sign of pain. That little-

“KIM TAEHYUNG!!!” you bellowed, ignoring the nearby gasps at your blatant show of disrespect. The eldest soldiers only shook their heads in dismay, having become used to your antics over the years. You whipped the side of his blade with your own, force enough to send it flying out of his grasp. “I was worried about you!” you shouted, stalking your way over to his retreating body, met only by a full-bodied laugh and hands raised to defend himself.

He took hold of your shoulders, keeping you at arms’ length as you glared up at him. The look only sent him into another fit of laughter. “The look on your face was magnificent, Captain,” he snickered, ignoring the betrayal on your face. “I’m perfectly fine, also. You needn’t worry so much-”

“Oh, you will not be fine by the time I’m done with you, Your Highness,” you seethed, picking up his discarded blade only to chuck it at him with just a little more force than necessary. “If you wanted a fight, Kim Taehyung, you’ve found one. I will pray for your recovery.”

Taking up your position for the third time of the afternoon, you scanned his features opposite you. He had no blaring weak spots, though you would be surprised if he did after all his years of training. He was fast, though you would bet that you were faster. Defeating him at his full capabilities would not be extremely easy, but if you gave it perhaps 80% you supposed you could be done within minutes.

“Any last words?” you goaded, grinning at the fleck of worry that crossed his face. “You look afraid, Your Highness.”

“It is perhaps in my best interest to remain a bit afraid, My Lady,” he chuckled lightly, eyes keen as they awaited your first movement. The narrowed your eyes, taking him in, planning your actions. He’s not wrong, you thought. Everyone in this field was just a little bit afraid.

Taehyung jumped when your blade made contact with his own, a high-pitched screech ringing out as he fought you off. You gave him no time to contemplate his own actions before you lunged relentlessly at him, delivering strike after strike without pause. He was forced to remain on the defensive, putting in his full effort to parry and step away in time.

Despite his struggle, you were impressed he was able to keep up with you as well as he was. He’s been training more, you noted. His improvement was clear compared to the last time you fought only several months ago. However, in a game of stamina, you were sure to win.

The top of your bodice dug sharply into your chest as your breaths quickened, but you were no stranger to discomfort. Over time you had learned to put aside such trivial things. Aches and pains were part of your job, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do it well.

Unwilling to let go of your pride, your steps quickened, Taehyung’s blade moving frantically to keep up but inevitably slowing slightly as you did not give him time to breathe. If you hadn’t focused all of your energy into this alone with no distractions, you perhaps would have poked fun at him.

When his sword arm lagged only slightly behind, arms slightly too wide, slightly too open, you struck hard. Batting his blade to the side only centimetres above where he held it in his grasp, you simpered, watching his shocked face as his blade went flying. His eyes darted between you and the blade, metres away, seemingly contemplating whether to give up or to pounce on it.

“What now, Little Prince? If this were a battlefield, would you simply cower in fear?” you coerced, eyes predatory. Perhaps it was sadistic of you, but you relished in the look of dismay in Taehyung’s face. He’d been thoroughly defeated – it was only a matter of how long you would draw it out.

Tossing your own foil to the side, you stretched your limbs before beckoning him over, fists positioned in front of you. It was a petty move and you knew it, for soldiers were much more well-versed in hand-to-hand combat than the Crown Prince, who was known to favour his swords and bows.

Taehyung had no complaints, however. A fight was a fight, after all. As he came after you with one, two, three jabs to your chest, you danced aside as you evaded easily. The difference in speed between his punches and sword thrusts were clear, the former much less practiced than the latter.

You unfortunately had not thought this idea through, because your options for victory without injuring the Prince were limited. While you were aware Taehyung would not mind, it would not be the best image for you to beat the life out of the Kingdom’s Crown Prince in open view of a squadron sworn to protect him.

“Are you so eager for my company that you would draw this out?” he joked, a weak punch toward your face easily shoved out of the way by your forearm. “Or perhaps you find pleasure in cornering me, My Lady?”

“You think so highly of yourself, Your Highness. Is it so disconcerting to find yourself put in your place every so often?”

“Quite the opposite, I think. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much,” he beamed, eyes shining. “I’ve quite missed you, Captain.” You faltered at the admission. While you loved to give him a hard time, you knew he was well aware of your fondness for him. However, you don’t believe you’ve ever said something so forthright to each other, and the statement awakened something in you that you thought you had buried deep.

Noting your slightly frozen state, Taehyung charged at you. However, you would not be fooled twice. The audacity of this man-

Twisting your arm to grab hold of his, you leaped forward. Suddenly taking the force of your full weight, Taehyung had nowhere to go but down, groaning as his back thudded against the canvas floor. Knee digging itself into the Prince’s ribcage below you, you sighted your previously discarded blade nearby. Grabbing hold of it, you held it to his throat.

“Yield,” you whispered, words escaping you much softer than intended. He made no effort to move, only staring up into your face with unspeakable emotion.

“And what if I am happy where I am, My Lady?” he murmured, taking in your appearance. Chest heaving, escaped hair wet with sweat, blouse crinkled – you were perhaps the finest sight he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. Though his words might have been taken for humour, you saw the look on his face. He didn’t even attempt to mask the desire, shameless through and through.

Before you could even think to respond, smatterings of applause broke out across the field at your victorious display, though they could not even begin to understand what was happening between the two of you. Moment broken, you quickly hopped up, helping Taehyung to his feet but avoiding his gaze. You were afraid to admit how much your heart fluttered when you heard his words, afraid of how much it would hurt when you would be forced to walk away and never speak of this moment again.

It was for the best.

“Y/N,” he called out softly, hands reaching for your own, but maintaining a respectful distance. Your eyes flew up to meet his, unused to hearing your own name in the palace nowadays. The look he gave you was honest, sincere. “Do you feel this too?”

You paused. Though he didn’t quite say what this meant, you could guess. In fact, his knowing gaze told you he only wanted you to admit what he already knew. The man had always been perceptive, and you had more memories with him than with your own family. You were certain he was familiar with your every expression. After all, you could write novels about his face – the way his eyes shone in his passion, the way the corners of his lips twitched when he was repressing a scowl.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pleading ignorance was the best defense. Admitting to your desires was foolish, and would not change your circumstances. You knew this was deeper than physical desires, but that just made it all the more impossible. Princes were destined for arranged marriage – nobody could simply form a relationship with a future King, least of all the soldier who has pledged her life to his parents. No, a proper relationship was not within the realm of possibility. But neither could you lay with the Crown Prince in good conscience – how would the public trust you to put the King and Queen’s safety above all else if you were warming their Prince’s bed?

Every option to act on your desires was fated for failure.

Taehyung’s hands moved from your palms to your wrists, his thumbs pressing into your pulse firmly. “Your heart is racing,” he murmured, eyes staring into your own as though he knew your every secret. “Why do you hide it?”

“You know why,” you stated, voice soft. “Of course I feel it, but it matters not.” The admission coming from your own lips shocked you. You had danced around each other for years, orbiting each other like binary stars, but you’d never admitted your attraction to him.

“It matters to me,” he whispered, thumb stroking at the soft skin of your wrists with care. “Come to my chambers after dinner.”

Your brows shot up at the suggestion. This was not a light request. You were no longer children, no longer laughed in his company until the maids shooed you away, chiding you for making so much noise.

This was real. As much as you grew to accept your desires, you had never even fathomed acting on them. Not when you knew it couldn’t last – not when your reputation, perhaps even your position, were at stake. “Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please,” he begged, staring into you with an expression you would liken to a puppy begging for scraps. You attempted to turn away, but he only followed. “Please,” he repeated, noting your conflicted expression. It was hard to deny him anything when he was looking at you like that, but even harder to deny yourself when every part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes.

“Very well,” you breathed, sealing your fate. “I shall come when the clock strikes eight, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t do it. As much as your heart craved him more than anything, you couldn’t. He was untouchable. If you were any other person, if you were just a court lady, you would jump at the chance. It wasn’t a secret that the Prince has had many partners, and nobody gave it a second thought. But to be with you?

It was improper. Impossible. How could you be trusted to do your duty fully and objectively if you’d laid with the Crown Prince?

After bathing, you made your way to his bedchambers, clad only in a loose blouse and cotton pants, hair flowing freely around your shoulders, still wet. You could not join him in his bed, but he at least deserved a rejection in person rather than your absence.

Knocking lightly on the door, you were startled when it swung open, your arm still raised. He gave you such a sweet smile it was almost painful, still dressed in his earlier attire but hair loose around his face. You stepped into the room, taking in its appearance, having not seen the room in years. It smelled of him, of vanilla and lavender and musk, a scent you would breathe for the rest of your life if it was possible. The room was exactly as you remembered it, mostly barren if not for the set of throwing knives on display – a gift from your father for the Prince’s coming-of-age.

“I’m so glad you came-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, turning to face him. “I came to put a stop to this before it’s begun, Your Highness. You're trying to start something that will be too painful to cease.” Your words struck him, and it physically pained you to see his face transform from excitement to distress.

“But I am not imagining what we have, am I? I have longed for you for years. Am I wrong to think you have too?” he pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Your Highness. We can’t possibly do this – think about it. Not only that, I cannot have the palace thinking I earned my position through your bed. There are so many reasons we cannot – I want you but I cannot have you!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you couldn’t help it in your grief. Eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration, it hurt to look at him standing so close, and yet so out of reach.

At your anguish, Taehyung reached for your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had fallen. His tenderness only sent another wave of sorrow through you, chest heavy. “I’m sorry. I know it was selfish to call you here. I know this is easier for me than you. Please forget I ever asked.”

“I know it’s wrong, but...”

“But?” he urged gently.

“Is it so foolish that I want it anyway?” you whispered. You looked at him wide-eyed, gaze pained, searching his face as if it held the answers to the universe. For you, perhaps it did.

“Y/N...” he begun, the sweet sound of your name coming from his lips the final nail in your coffin. Denying that you wanted this more than anything would be the greatest lie you’ve ever told. It was brash, and stupid, and irresponsible, but you wanted to feel this at least once. You wanted to indulge in his touch, his affection. You needed to feel his hands on you, his mouth on your skin, and you didn’t know if you would ever be brave enough to accept him again if you didn’t do it now.

“It can only be once. Nobody can know.” You couldn’t risk the noblewomen catching on to your activities. They were unusually observant, and you didn’t doubt their abilities to discern your relationship with even the faintest of hints. Taehyung knew better than anybody that the palace ladies treated gossip as currency, and word traveled especially quickly on matters involving him. He nodded at your words, but the grave look on his face told you he wished things were different.

“I will cherish our time together, My Lady” he breathed, but his conflicted expression spoke volumes. “We don’t have to do this-”

You shook your head, closing the space between you until your chests were pressed together. Stomach in knots and chest tight, you ran your fingers along his broad chest and down to his abdomen before wrapping them loosely around his waist. You would savour every touch, make note of every expression, save away every delightful noise from his lips, and you would pray for it to be enough to satiate you for a lifetime. Because it had to be.

Tilting your head back to meet his eyes, your heart nearly leapt from your throat at the look on his face. The adoration, the warmness – but most of all, the pain. This was torture for both of you, and you knew it. It was selfish and self-destructive, but the two of you always seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in each other.

Without speaking, you reached up to grab hold of his head, yanking it down to smash your lips together without ceremony. He responded with fervor, moving against you, arms tugging until there was not even a millimetre of space between your bodies. You tried not to think about the desperation in your movements, the saltiness of the tears still present on your face. You dragged your hands over the planes of his chest and down to his biceps, nails digging in slightly when he bit at your bottom lip.

Harshly tugging his shirt from his waistband, you traced your nails up his bare skin, relishing in the uneven breath he let out in response. You would dedicate yourself to memorizing every inch of him. Every dip, every curve would be ingrained in your mind for eternity, your hands tracing patterns into his skin like a brush on canvas.

He did the same to you, his large hands finding their way beneath your blouse and chemise, lifting them both above your head to toss them to the floor. You were bare underneath, having planned to leave for your own bedchambers only minutes after arriving. He sucked in a breath at the sight of you on display entirely for him. His careful fingers traced the scars on your abdomen, accumulated through years of training and fighting on the frontlines. While ugly, you were not ashamed – these were proofs to others and to yourself that you would put your Kingdom above all else.

Bending at the knee, he traced his mouth down your jaw, down your throat, kissing you reverently as he continued his path. Passing over your breasts, he moved lower to mouth gently at the scars littering your belly, his gentle presses causing new tears to spring to your eyes. Was this how it felt to be worshipped? To be loved?

Taehyung took in the sorrow painting your features, but did not comment. There was nothing to be said – he understood perfectly. Perhaps if he pressed his face more firmly into the softness of your skin, he would spare you having to see the twin look of despair he was unable to hide.

Sliding a hand into his hair, you softly brushed it away from his face, gently pulling his chin up to look at you. Your heart wrenched at the sight of him, eyes looking at you as though you were a treasure, as though you weren’t the thing causing him so much pain. As though you wouldn’t leave him alone after this.

Tugging lightly at the collar of his shirt, he quickly got the memo, shucking it off in a direction you didn’t see, too focused on what was just revealed to you. If not for the honeyed gold of his skin, you would have been convinced he was carved of marble. You traced the lines of his body, a tiny smile breaking through at the shudder he gave when your nails scratched over his nipples. Though your actions were slow, he did not rush you. He only watched the awe in your gaze, eyes wide as though if you blinked, he would disappear. The childlike wonder in your face warmed his heart, pleased that you would let your guard down here with him.

You blinked out of your stupor at the sensation of a warm hand on your cheek, the sight of Taehyung’s soft grin at your antics lighting a small fire of embarrassment in you. “Bed?” he asked lightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The hot breaths near your ear sent a shiver down your spine, tugging him ever-so-closer as you nodded in response.

Pulling away from him, you tugged lightly at the drawstrings to your pants, biting your lip when you saw the Prince follow your every movement. Taking his hands into your own, you brought them to your waistband. “Help me,” you breathed, heart racing at the knowledge that you would soon be laid bare to him.

He took a deep breath before releasing the knot at your waist, tugging your pants ever so slowly down your legs. He knelt at your feet, removing the fabric from your ankles until the only cloth left on your body is your underwear. Eyes falling on your face, he thumbed the waistband, looking up at you in question. At your quiet “please,” he removed that too, your folds revealed to him, shiny with your arousal.

Groaning at the sight, Taehyung latched onto your clit before you could even process the movement, the sudden pleasure making you weak in the knees. He sucked at your bud lightly, taking pleasure in the way you sunk your hands into his hair to ground yourself. When you wobbled slightly in your bliss, his left arm rose to hold you steady at the waist.

When his other hand rose to thumb through your folds while his mouth continued its ministrations, you moaned out. Eyes falling down to observe the Prince, the sight brought a small whimper to your lips, your hips grinding down onto him. He looked absolutely sinful, his eyes heavy-lidded as he delved into your heat with such abandon, focused entirely on your pleasure. When he inserted a finger into you, quickly followed by another upon feeling your wetness, you were sure you would have fallen if not for his arm holding you steady.

“What-” you started, but ended up cutting yourself off with a loud moan at the sensation of his fingers scissoring inside you. “What happened to going to bed?” you managed to get out, utterly breathless.

You let out a gasp when he pulled from you abruptly in response, picking you up at the waist and throwing you onto his mattress. You had no time to reprimand him before he was spreading your legs, mouth and fingers returning to you as he joined you on the bed. Any words were stolen from your throat at the stretch of a third finger, your hips bucking up to get closer to the source of your pleasure.

“You taste so good,” he moaned out, panting. You didn’t miss the way he grinded his clothed crotch into the sheets, heat shooting through you at the sight. When his fingers curled inside you, the heat spread throughout your whole body, abdomen tight and walls clenching tightly around his fingers. You were so close to the edge, it would take only one breath before you fell over.

“Give it to me, please,” he pleaded, tongue flicking over your clit as his fingers continued to nudge that spongy spot inside you. Needing no more encouragement, you fell apart, moans forced from your throat, hips grinding against him as he worked you through your orgasm. When a dull ache begun to replace the pleasure, you pulled away from him, pushing him onto his back.

His arousal was clear, his cock straining in his tight pants enough that it must have hurt. Though, his face held no complaint, only dazed wonderment clear on his features, almost as if he still couldn’t believe what was happening. He let out a sharp hiss as your nails traced the outline of his cock, his teeth biting furiously at his bottom lip.

Deciding not to torture him after the ecstasy he brought you, you tugged his pants and underwear down in one go, Taehyung groaning in relief as his cock sprung free. The tip was angry and red, the slit leaking precum. After freeing him of his clothing, you reached out a hand to pump lightly at his cock, noting the way it twitched in your hold. It looked almost painful, the vein running up the underside big and angry.

You began to lower your mouth to him, eager to return the pleasure he gave you, but were halted by a gentle hand on your cheek. “Please,” he begged, “I can’t. I need you,” he expressed all in one breath, eyes pained and needy.

Taking mercy on him, you rose, shifting until you were seated in his lap, mouth seeking his out. He cried out into your mouth at the sensation of your slick folds rocking against him, grinding down onto his cock. Hand reaching down to position him at your entrance, you pulled your face away to watch his as you sunk yourself slowly onto his length. The moan you let out at the stretch was crude, and it didn’t appear that Taehyung was faring any better, his breaths coming in pants, eyes screwed shut.

He’s beautiful like this, you thought, your own eyes wanting to badly to flutter closed, but your need to take in his every expression won out. Your head tipped back in pleasure as you seated yourself fully, moans escaping as you rocked against him, his pelvis pressing into your clit.

Losing yourself in the sensation, you fell forward to bury your face into Taehyung’s neck, his scent only adding to your pleasure. His hips rocked against your own, thrusts shallow, both of you letting out low moans at the movement. The friction against your clit had your abdomen tightening again, his tender hold on your body the best thing you’d ever felt. But as the pleasure reared in on you again, it was at that moment you remembered the totality of your situation.

You would never get this again.

The thought was like ice-water thrown over your head. How could you have forgotten? His cock deep inside you, his hips rising to meet your own, his hand clutching at the small of your back, his moans – it was all temporary.

You shoved your face tightly into his shoulder, hoping your sob would disguise itself as a moan. But at the shaking of your shoulders, Taehyung paused his actions, hand rising to cradle your head. “Y/N?”

“Tae,” you cried out, heart wrenching. It wasn’t lost on him that this was the first time he’s properly heard his name from your lips since your promotion – no teasing, no games. His heart broke at the sound, your sobs guttural, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away. The gravity of the situation brought tears to his own eyes, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, your head lifting to meet his glassy eyes. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your lips quivering. This was an agony that only the two of you could ever understand.

“Taehyung, I-” you faltered, choking on a sob. I love you. You couldn’t say it. What good could it bring you now? But your eyes spoke volumes, the emotion clear on your face. He knew how you felt just as much as you knew how he felt.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated, tears finally escaping his eyes as he tugged you closer. There was no way to be more intimate than this, arms cradling each other as you cried, his cock still nestled inside you.

It would have to be enough.

As your bodies shifted minutes later, the friction against you had you shivering, remembering the position you were in. You pulled your head from his neck to gaze at his face, his eyes meeting your own. It hurt, but there was sad acceptance in your eyes, mirrored in his own. You tried to force a small smile onto your face, but you were unsure whether it appeared as a grimace. You instead elected to press a soft kiss to his lips, eyes falling closed as he returned it.

You rocked your hips together slowly, relishing in the light sighs and quiet moans of the other. Your movements were tender, careful, full of love and affection you would never get the chance to verbalize. When you felt your release creeping up on you again, you arched your back, grinding into his pelvis. Wanting to help you along, Taehyung grabbed hold of your hips, holding you steady as he thrusted up into you, every so often holding himself deep, grinding against you. The emotion of it all had your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm washing over you in gentle waves as you writhed against his body.

You could tell he was coming undone, his thrusts erratic, breaths heavy as he pulled away from you to leave open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. You moaned at the overwhelming sensation of his movements so soon after your orgasm, but you wouldn’t dare rob him of his pleasure. Not now, not like this.

Groaning loudly, you felt his cock twitch inside you as he continued his thrusts, feeling the warmth of his release coating your walls. He shook in your arms, and you couldn’t bring yourself to confirm whether he was overwhelmed with pleasure or sorrow.

Letting out a whine as you pulled yourself off him, you wiped the mess between your legs on his sheets. His maids would clean for him come sunrise, and you were anxious to escape the room before you lost yourself fully to despair.

You allowed yourself to bask in his presence momentarily, laying alongside him for several minutes before you rose to get dressed. You kept your back to him, unwilling to show weakness despite your vulnerability only moments ago.

“Stay,” he begged, his voice still husky from the passion you’d shared. Your heart sunk at the suggestion. You wanted nothing more than to stay, but every minute you spent here knowing the outcome only shattered you a bit more.

Fully dressed, you made your way to the door. You could still feel where his hands touched you, where his lips pressed against you, where his cock had been inside you. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, misery colouring your tone. You turned to him, taking in his bare appearance for the last time. You stared, hoping to burn the image into your retinas.

“I know,” was his only response. What more was there to say? Your eyes swept over each other, locking this moment away in your hearts forever. Finally, you turned back to the door, turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway without looking back. The sound of the hinge falling into place behind you felt like waking up from a dream, the period at the end of a sentence.

Your tears fell freely and silently as you made your way back to your chambers. Your heart ached a bit more with the increasing distance, every step leaving a piece of you behind.

It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? You supposed whoever could claim such a thing had never loved like this. Because walking away left your heart in a million pieces, the only glue that could piece you back together still staring at his empty sheets, the dip from where your body once laid still warm to the touch.

Months went by without speaking of that night. The tonic you’d taken upon returning to your room had worked well, your body having bled weeks later. You had still talked to Taehyung – you had to; your duty required it. But the pain never ceased, only dulled. You told yourself you would move on, that there was no use in dwelling. But the heated glances you caught him directing at you, desire and heartbreak in his eyes, always took you right back to that night.

He hadn’t been with anyone since – not that you were listening. You couldn’t help but to overhear the palace ladies gossiping, spreading word of the Crown Prince denying their advances. You didn’t know what to do with the information.

Having just returned from mapping out Their Majesties route to a neighbouring city, you returned your horse to the stables. While not necessary, you much preferred to prepare yourself for every possibility of attack, taking note of any weaknesses in visibility along the path. Every second counts when you’re under attack, after all.

“Captain!” a voice called out to you urgently. Having just handed off your horse to the stablehand, you turned to meet the man, his hands on his knees as if he had just run a mile before coming here. “I have been looking for you everywhere, Captain. Their Majesties have requested your presence in the throne room.” Unusual, since you had met together only this morning, but you would not keep them waiting.

“Thank you, sir. I will head there now.”

You went directly to the throne room, pausing outside to nod to the royal family’s assistant stationed outside. He smiled to you briefly before pushing the door open.

“Captain Y/N to see you, Your Majesties.”

“Let her in, thank you,” a kind, feminine voice rang out.

You stepped inside quickly, taking a knee until the King gestured for you to stand. “I deeply apologize for my appearance, Your Majesties. I had just returned from planning our route for tomorrow and thought it better not to leave you waiting.”

The King smiled at you, the warm-hearted expression reminding you of Taehyung’s. Your chest ached at the thought, but you kept a blank expression. “Hard at work as always, I see. We had something we would like to discuss with you.” At his words, you noticed that not only were the King and Queen present, but Taehyung was stood off to the side as well. Your heartrate increased slightly at the sight of him.

“Your Highness. Forgive my disrespect, I had not seen you there,” you bowed respectfully, ignoring the heat that rushed through you at his appearance. His hair was loose, his outfit form-fitting. He was beautiful. You tried not to think too much on what he looked like beneath the clothes. “What can I do for you, Your Majesties?”

“Captain, my son came to us earlier today with quite the startling proposition,” he began, and your brows furrowed in confusion. When he failed to elaborate, you spoke up.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty.”

“You see, he came to us in a frenzy and asked, ‘Father, what would you say if I wanted to marry the Captain of the Guard?’” You froze, eyes wide. Marry? You? Taehyung? Your heart pounded violently at the notion.

“Sire, I promise you this was not my idea. I apologize-”

“My dear, do not panic. We are not angry. But we wanted to ask your thoughts.”

“Your Majesties, I couldn’t possibly marry your son.” You made effort not to look at the Prince, lest your composure fail. “I have no lands to offer. No gold, nothing. I cannot offer you any alliance, I cannot bring anything to your family,” you turned to Taehyung, his expression unreadable. “You cannot marry a soldier,” you whispered, heart breaking once again as the possibility was dangled in front of you, lingering just beyond reach.

“Captain, do you know that the people adore you? That they sing your praises when we pass through their villages?” the Queen asked, a bright smile painting her features. Your face grew hot at the mention. “Your soldiers respect you. Your hometown throws festivals in honour of your birthday. Dare I say that you’re more popular than us?” she joked, giggle chiming lightly through the room. Taking in her appearance and mannerisms, it was no question why Taehyung was as handsome and as loved as he was.

“Ma’am, of course not,” you responded, hand raising to awkwardly scratch at your head. You were unsure where she was going with the statement.

“You’ve earned the Kingdom’s trust, Captain. You’re perhaps the most loyal person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Might I also add that you are not just some nobody? Your family has served ours for generations. You are of noble birth,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you consider yourself so unworthy?”

You paused at the question. It did not seem to be a trap, and the Queen was certainly not one to be malicious. Glancing around the room, you noted the King and Prince were observing your reaction expectantly. It was not an environment good for your nerves. “A soldier is not fit to be the future Queen,” is the statement you settled for, attempting to maintain a mask of indifference.

“My dear, do you remember what you told me only a few years ago? When I asked you if you were afraid of trying to accomplish what nobody else in history has?” the King’s deep voice rang out. Your gaze snapped up, knowing exactly what he was about to say. Oh no...

“‘Damn history. I will write my own history,’ I think it was.” Chuckles broke out across the room, the Queen tittering, Taehyung snickering. You’d never told Taehyung about that encounter, embarrassment flowing through you every time you thought about it. You focused your gaze on your feet, face burning at the reminder of your words.

“I have since learned to control my words, Sire,” you muttered ashamedly, fingers tangling together.

“Y/N,” the King’s voice called, grabbing your attention once again. “You have guts. Daring. You’re smart, well-trained. And there’s nobody I would trust to guard my life more than you.” You bit your lip at the praise, struggling to hide a proud grin. Being praised by the King was a feat not many experienced. “It would be an honour to call you our daughter.”

You stared, slack-jawed, processing his words. You didn’t notice Taehyung approaching you until his fingers laced with your own, his opposing hand moving to raise your chin. The open affection on his face, the love - it was everything you’d ever dreamed of and nothing you’d ever dared hope for. Your breathing quickened as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he beseeched, vulnerability clear on his face. “Spend eternity with me, together. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes, but for once they were tears of joy, not tears of despair. You dropped to your knees to meet him, arms thrown around his neck. He barely had time to catch you as you threw yourself at him, bodies the closest they’ve been since that night in his bed. Raising your head to lock your eyes on his, you knew the same love you had for him was written all over your face.

“Yes,” you cried, hands raising to cup his jaw. “Yes.”

#vantaenet #heartsforbts #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts historical au

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courtofcravings · 4 years

Text

Another you (1)

Context: In which you get stuck on a planet and have to save kirk, whichhe admits feelings for you and ya both land in the Med Bay.

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries. mild choking

Feb 2nd/21

I always find it funny that my go-to thing is to have the reader afraid of needles, but I myself am actually trained to give vaccines and take blood.

This was also my first Kirk x reader in a long time// It’s hard to write flirty confident characters because it is the exact opposite of who I am, yet it’s the personality i love in my men and women so xoxo

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Dr. McCoy was again trying to coerce you down to the Med Bay; he really thought offering to get the Captain involved would change anything. “I’m telling you right now, Y/N, you can’t go on your away mission without your immunizations for this planet. Have you have heard of the Quazulu VIII Virus, no? That’s because there is a vaccine for it!”

“Dr. McCoy, It will be a quick up and down to the planet to grab some specimens; I won’t stay for diplomatic reasons like the rest of the party is.” You justified to him. You had almost finished packing everything you needed from the research ward before your ship’s chief medical examiner ambushed you.

“As a scientist, I’d figure you would be one of the most appreciative of vaccines.” He replied, helping you collect tubes from the drawer beside him. “Ah contrary, as a scientist, I am well aware of how dirty hospitals and MedBays are.” The doctors face contorted,

“You do realize you are going on an away mission, on a un sterile planet. There is a risk of injury; are you just not going to receive first aid if something goes wrong on the planet?” He’s not wrong, and you knew it. You just hated needles. They grossed you out.

“I won’t get hurt then,” You confidently stated, which earned a scoff from the young doctor.

“What if I bring the vaccines to your research lab? And gave them to you here?” You admitted that wasn’t a bad compromise. The Med Bay gave you more of a bad feeling than needles do. You always found that most people you had to bring to the Medbay or hospital didn’t always come out. You just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread when you go in.

“Fine.”

“You remind me so much of Jim.” He said while pulling out the vaccines. He had the vaccines here!? He already knew I wouldn’t agree to go to the Med Bay and thought ahead. You really have left an impression on the doctor.

“Who? And you really knew I’d say yes?” Referring to the cooler filled with the vaccinations. “Ah, you see, they are not just for you,” He said. Taking one of the two doses you needed into one of his hands and pinch “Done.”

Oh, that wasn’t horrible.

The doors swooshed opened behind you, but you couldn’t open your eyes, knowing there was another needle coming. “Bones, you called me here?” Immediately recognizing that voice as Captain Kirk

“You Actually Told The Captain On Me!?” You stood up to look accusingly at Dr. McCoy. He only shrugged his shoulders, looking between the two of you. “You need to get your inoculations, Jim; why don’t you explain to Y/N here how important it is to get them before an away trip,” He said while getting another dose ready. “You do have a lot of experience of finding out the hard way.”

You met the captain’s eyes, so blue. “Captain,” You correctly addressed him, “Y/N, will you be coming tonight?” He asked, his voice so alluring.

“I will, sir,” He smiled at you, taking a seat. “So, Bones here is giving you trouble?” He grabbed your backpack, taking a glance inside at what you were going to bring. It reminded you of a kid who couldn’t sit still.

“Bones?”

“Do not call me that,” Dr. McCoy said fast. pinch “Ouch, I wasn’t ready for that one!” You growled, rubbing your arm, earning a small laugh from the captain sitting across from you. You watched Dr. McCoy draw up his last dose for you and started to feel sick to your stomach.

“Captain, I believe you were explaining to Y/N how important the vaccines are,” He asked the Captain. Funny, it’s not often that Dr. McCoy will address the Captain formally like that. You think Captain Kirk noticed as well as he looked caught off guard.

“Well, as your Captain, I have to inform you that it is mandatory, and Starfleet regulations to get your vaccines before the away mission. Otherwise, you can compromise the health of my crew,” He said professionally. Looking at bones with a thumbs up.

You couldn’t help but get distracted by his deep blue eyes while he talked more about it. You were not really paying much attention to his words. “All done,” Dr. McCoy said, cleaning up his tray of discarded utensils. You were so distracted by the captain you didn’t feel that last pinch.

You pulled your blue shirt back down to entirely go over your arm, “Well, if that is everything, I should be preparing for the away mission,” The captain said, dismissing himself.

“No, No, No, Jim.” Dr. McCoy stood up fast, grabbing the Captain by his arm before he could get out of his chair. “You just lectured Y/N on the importance of inoculations; I do believe it is your turn,” You figured that was why the doctor brought those extra doses. This was his plan all along.

“For the well being of the crew and all,” You spoke up, paraphrasing his own words. Dr. McCoy let out an agreeable laugh, while the captain just sat there, defeated.

“Alright, alright, just make it fast,” The captain lifted his shirt enough to sneak his left arm out. Your first instinct, of course, was to look around the room at literally anything else.

“I was just telling Y/N how alike you both are; I mean, she’s basically another you,” Dr. McCoy said. You couldn’t help but scoff at this, you and the captain having something in common? Sure, but you being basically like him? Definitely not.

“What gave it away? Was it the height? We are pretty close in height,” The captain responded, a playful smile on his handsome face.

“Maybe, It is our common interest in specialties on the ship? You know, being captain and being a biomedical engineer are very similar jobs.” You asked, teasing the doctor. He only responded with a sigh and poked the Captain with the needle, making him jolt.

“You know Y/N; I think he might be right. I am certain he was referring to our matching taste in clothing.” The Starfleet uniform being all match except for the colours. Where scientists wore grey or blue, the captains wore gold. Gold was definitely his colour.

“Nope, he is definitely talking about our boobs; they are just so alike,” You said, a giggle ripped from the captain, making him move back slightly.

“Dammit, Jim, stay still.” He said, giving the last dose to the Captain, then turning back to look at you, “You know you’re both just proving my point,”

“Well, then that’s just double the fun for you, Bones,” The captain said. He was taking his leave before the Doctor comes up with more to poke him with. After two years on this ship, bugging Dr. McCoy never got old.

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck on an away trip with the two of you,” Dr. McCoy said while grabbing his bag. “Hey, Bones, that’s kinda hurtful,” You responded, using the nickname the Captain used with him.

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones muttered under his breath, leaving to go track down more officers before the away trip.

-----

The trip mission for you was supposed to be simple: collect some plant samples with specific regenerative properties. This would help in your designs of tissue regeneration equipment you worked on in the lab aboard the enterprise with Dr. McCoy.

Unfortunately for you, It seemed something went wrong, you’re assuming with the diplomatic party that came down with you. You only took fifth-teen minutes to gather enough samples to fill your small bag, but when you used your comm to contact the ship, no one responded.

As a matter-of-fact, no one on the mission on the planet was answering either. You hoped they hadn’t forgotten you on this planet and left, unlikely, but still a thought. You didn’t remember where exactly the other group got transported to, and it was still a debate whether you should leave the last known location they had of you, but it was getting dark.

You needed shelter and possibly a fire. It was far too cold on this planet for you to stay extended out in the elements. So you started walking, with no means to defend yourself and no map of the jungle-like terrain. You couldn’t help but think bones may have been right about laughing at you confidently declaring nothing will go wrong.

“Y/N to enterprise,” You repeated every few seconds, waiting for any response as you trudged through the thicker bushes. Soon it was dark and cold. You could barely see anything, and it was getting too dangerous to walk around.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the faintest light. Maybe it was your crew? You thought about following it, but you also thought of that fish that used a light on its head to lure its prey back on earth. Maybe you are about to be angler fish food; You don’t think they make vaccines to prevent that.

Maybe it is called “not being stupid and walking toward the scary lingering light.”

But where else was there to go. So, against your better instinct, you started walking towards it. Although, the closer you got, you figured out it was a fire and not some carnivorous fish. Picking up the speed and getting closer, you could clearly hear voices. Thank goodness

You have always been told you had two left feet for a reason, so of course, before you could enter the camp, you tripped and ate dirt. Getting up on your knees, you backed up slowly. You seemed to have cut your arm open on something, possibly a branch, when you fell. Great, now you’d have to admit to bones he was right.

Captain Kirk and the rest of the diplomatic crew were tied up, surrounded by another species. It seemed someone- a woman was attempting to speak to them in their language.

They didn’t seem to be responding to her in the same kind tone. Every so often, she’d stop and talk to the captain, translating for him, you figured. Maybe some sort of negotiations or clearing up a misunderstanding, but it did not seem to be going in our favor.

You lowered yourself deeper in the bushes and looked around the camp. There didn’t seem to be any device blocking the signal you could spot, so why wouldn’t the comms work, you wondered. You did, however, find Starfleet-issued phasers, more phasers than you had men. You suppose this meant you guys were not the only Starfleet officers caught by this group.

You watched as the conversation turned sour, and one of the species took what looked like a long fork and put it through the captain’s leg. Yup, This is definitely not good. The same one who stabbed the captain untied the translator and the two other men, walking them out into the forest in the other direction, to where you had no idea. This left Captain Kirk alone, guarded by two others.

You ever so slowly made your way around the camp to the phasers, laying on a flat table with other confiscated items. Your arm was not letting up pain-wise or blood wise, but you knew it wouldn’t matter much if you couldn’t make it off the planet. Grabbing one phaser at a time, you managed four.

Although taking a look at them, you realized you were way in way over your head. Too far in over your head. Getting stranded on a planet with a lacerated arm was fine; watching your crewmates get tied up and minorly stabbed was fine because you could have helped. There was a solution in sight, but now?

Looking down at the phaser, you had no recognition on how to use it; you were now too far in over your head. Starfleet trained you on a basic low power phaser; the highest setting was three. This phaser had so many buttons, far too many than necessary, you thought.

Taking a deep breath, you put two phasers in your bag and slowly made your way behind to where Captain Kirk was tied up and bleeding. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to untie the Captain, you watched the two guards pace around the camp, talking. You needed a distraction, but what could you possibly do?

You snuck up to the Captain silently, but you knew there wasn’t enough time to do too much before they’d glance in your direction. Grabbing the Captain on the shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t make a sound,” The last thing you wanted was for him to be surprised by you sneaking upon him and startle the guards. “I have no idea how to use this, so I really hope you can move and are not completely out of it from blood loss!” You whispered urgently, putting a phaser in his still tied up hands.

“Y/N?” The captain whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid,” You loved his esteemed confidence in you.

“I don’t have enough time to finish untying this knot,” It was so close to coming undone, but you heard one of the guards pacing this way, so you left. You watched the captain look around, but you were hiding in the bushes already. He started to loosen his hands subtly.

Now time for your distraction. You walked around the campsite again, furthering yourself from the captain. “Hey!” You screamed at the guards, hopefully taking the guard’s attention of the captain. “Hey!” You shouted again at them, waving your arms in the air with one phaser in your hand. The guards started slowly approaching you; however, you hadn’t really thought this far.

“Okay, I know you can’t understand me,” You pointed the phaser directly at them, “But I know you understand this, and I...I don’t want to hurt you! So don’t come any farther!” You yelled pointlessly as they kept on approaching you, towering over you. Up close, in front of the light from their fire, you could clearly see their leathery skin, their large muscular frames, and very large weapons in hand.

“Hey, I mean it!” You said, waving the phaser at the one to your left. They were approaching faster with no sign of stopping until they were in front of you. One put their hands on your throat, your feet dangling in the air as he started to choke you. You knew they could crush your throat in a second if they chose to but instead decided to apply pressure slowly.

A loud sound echoed in your ears; It definitely belonged to a phaser. The guard let you go, both of you falling to the ground. And you couldn’t stop the intense coughing fit that erupted from you, your body trying to get as much air in as it could. Distantly you heard the second guard fall to the ground. A hand was on your back as you coughed, “Are you okay?” It was the captain.

After catching your breath, you stood up, looking at the captain. He was standing beside you, phaser in hand, with blood rushing down his leg. “You’re the one with the stab wound,” You responded hoarsely, slightly concerned. “This is nothing,” You reached under his arm so he could support his weight more onto you, “Let me help, sit down over here and let’s tie something around your leg,” He let his weight fall on you slightly. To be honest, you probably would not be able to carry all his weight, especially since your arm was starting to throb.

Sitting him down, you reached into your bag, looking for anything you could use as a makeshift tourniquet. Thankfully, you packed a mini first aid kit. Yes, it was extremely small, holding only a few items; you knew it had a small roll of gauze in it. He let out a laugh when he saw you pull out the little red box. “Laugh all you want, but this could potentially help save your life,” You said seriously.

“That’s not why I am laughing,” You looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to continue his explanation. “I’m sorry, but.” You wrapped a long strand of gauze around his leg, pulling and twisting, as you were taught. “I have this deep, stab wound, and you pull out the smallest first aid kit that I have ever seen in my life,” You took an alcohol swab and wiped his wound gently, cleaning it as well as you could.

“I find it extremely funny that when I looked into your bag this morning and saw it, I thought it was cute, you would bring it,” You looked around to see what dressing you had, not a lot. “I thought it was cute you’d bring a small little first aid kit when we have an on-hand medic come with us.” You ripped his pants just slightly so you start dressing it, “And now you are providing first aid to me with it, in the field, I don’t know I just find that funny” He finished looking down at what you were doing before deciding maybe watching isn’t the best idea.

“I don’t know if I should pack dressing around… this fork thing, or if I should take out the object and dress you properly.” You leaned back on your legs and looked up at him.

“Leaving it in would be safest because I can’t be sure if it hit an artery or not, and you’d bleed out.” You paused, letting him take in the information, “On the other side if I don’t take it out and we have to move fast, it could potentially do more damage.”

“Take it out; we need to get moving to find Uhura, Sulu, and Montgomery.” You were slightly nervous about doing this; killing your captain does not look good on a resume. You opened the dressing packages, ready to work fast. The tourniquet should have stopped any bleeding; you should be safe to pull it, you hoped.

And with one fluid motion and no warning for the Captain, you pulled it out, throwing it to the ground. You placed one hand on the wound to keep pressure and reached for the dressings. The groans of pain were agonizing to hear come from him; however, you knew you had to keep going and get the wound bandaged up. You had wished the small kit had medication or pain relievers of any kind to help him, something you’d need to remind yourself to add for next time.

“I am so sorry; I know that must have been pretty painful for you.” You said sincerely. It was over, but he was still breathing hard, reeling over the pain. He reached toward you, leaning forward, and rested his head on your shoulder. You put a hand on his head and brushed his hair with your fingers, staying like that for a few minutes, peacefully.

“Your arm, there is blood on the sleeve,” He said, grabbing your arm to inspect it; however, you pulled it away, “I scratched it on a branch, it hurts but it’s not bleeding anymore. Besides, I used all the dressing on you- being the more urgent injury.”

“We need to move; they might have heard me.” You helped him stand, and he continued to use you for support. “It’s so dark. I have no idea how or where we’d find everyone.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed a phaser, “They went to their nest. It should be north; there is a map of the terrain on the phaser we can follow,” And with that, he pressed a button of the phaser, which also turned on a flashlight. “Captain, do you think you are in any shape to fight? I was surprised you were able to stand up long enough to take down those two guards.”

“I am fine. I can fight, don’t worry about me.”

“Which, by the way, thank you for saving me back there,” You had never been that close to dying before. “Y/N, it is me who should be thanking you. Without you, I am fairly sure I would have bled to death tied up at that camp.”

------------------------

Part 2

I enjoyed writing it so I hope yall liked it

#jim kirk #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagines #james kirk #jim kirk imagine #james kirk x reader #james kirk imagines #star trek #james kirk imagine #star trek imagines #star trek imagine #captain kirk x reader #startrek x reader #startrek #star trek fanfiction #kirk x reader

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

Note

I'm in a very angry-with-the-IC-and-Rhys-in-particular mood, and since I'm just rereading Daylight I was wondering, what is going through Rhysand's mind throughout the events of Daylight? Because it's basically his entire life CRUMBLING around him and I'd love to see the mental gymnastics he does to fit it all into his "I'm the good guy, actually" narrative. Or just his general reaction.

this is a FABULOUS question, thank you!

Daylight! Rhys is, in my opinion, the closest to a canonical (pre-acosf) character representation that I go for. He's so SO fucked up, and sublimating and burying all that trauma has, of course, failed, and it's all manifesting, in all these different directions.

To understand the level on which Rhys is losing his shit, it's important to go back to the very beginning: Rhysand, to Rhysand, is always, always the hero of the story. The down on his luck knight with truth in his heart. The struggling, just man.

He CANNOT seeing beyond himself for even a second. He casts himself in the most important role, as the only person whose personal consequences exist.

His mother, at probable great risk, takes him to Illyria to be trained- the precious, first-born, godly son of Night. To learn to fight- to learn, presumably, her culture- to see what that culture is reduced to, a harshness he will on day have the power to change. Rhys had to be, at some point, a great hope for Not High Fae denizens of the Court.

What does Rhysie learn? Illyria is harsh. Illyria is bad. Backwards and cruel.

He hates his father for...presumably, the crime of being a pretty traditional High Lord? Rhys hates the cruelties! the Court of Nightmares! the broken system!

So what does Rhys do when he has power? he fires everyone. He doesn't like them, he doesn't like whatever they did under his father...so instead of hiring new people, he removes himself entirely from a potential role in changing/mitigating those policies. See also: the Court of Nightmares, cowed occasionally, but not in any way governed by Rhys.

But he's the hero! He's destroyed the oppression! His Court of Just his Bros is made of women and Illyrians!

(Rhys removed the terribleness from his direct experience...because only his experiences matter)

So, Rhys in his head: the struggle, the hero, the man just trying to do it right.

Which brings us to Daylight....and Feyre. I know we can attribute the way the characters stop even remotely being sympathetic between acomaf and...everything else...to poor writing, but I also think there's some (maybe accidental but PERFECT) character work there: in acomaf, pre-acknowledged bond, Feyre is an important possession/ally- she's on the same level as the other members of the Court of Dreams, if the jewel of the collection, a high point in the story Rhys tells himself: HE saved the HERO OF PRYTHIAN

(which...let's not even touch on the fact that the deal he makes in acotar is CREEPY and he can only justify it later. she wasn't someone he wanted to work with in acotar- she was a vulnerable, hot young woman he fully took advantage of)

And then they're mates.

And then, slowly but surely, Feyre's personhood disappears. For two reasons: 1) Feyre is on a pedestal so sky-high it blots out everything. Good, pure, true hero Feyre whose adoration Rhysand needs like air. the happy end of his story, the prize and the salvation, the one who sees him.

and 2) ultimately, to Rhys, Feyre is an extension of him. A symbol: his happiness, his peace, his endless power, what he fought to keep.

She's his whole anchor staying sane, which isn't great, considering...ya know, everything. But the Story is Over. They are Happy.

Except- except- nothing is over. Post fifty straight years of torture, a freefall into war and fuckery, teen marriage and literal death, the consequences for all those things AND THE SHIT RHYS WAS PULLING LONG BEFORE AMARANTHA TURNED HIM INTO A CHEW TOY, are still present.

But now, he has something to protect. His golden future. His puppy Mate.

Because Feyre's safety is the safety of his power and vice versa. Anything he does is justifiable because the loss of Feyre is Not an Option. She is Happy. They Are Happy.

It bleeds into everything- and then it intensifies, because this is the breaking point.

The Az/Lucien thing and Feyre incredibly hurtful blindness? No Rhys isn't going to interfere- Az is so private anyway- if Feyre believes its a romantic bond, Feyre is right, she knows her sister, not that it matters because Elain is totally out of her mind.

Sending Cassian to Illyria? Illyria is a backwards shithole right? They're fierce fighters and that's what Rhys values them for- as the hammer of his power- and nothing else? why would there be anything else? Look at them fighting and hurting each other.

Nesta runs and Cassian is left throwing himself in battles actively trying to die and Rhys? Rhys is totally smug. A problem that hurt Feyre and his brother is GONE.

But it's not gone. Az isn't talking to anyone- and Rhys thinks this probably means Lucien is probably, finally fucking him- but even Feyre understands that Azriel knows where Nesta is. When this is proved (when Elain surfaces and they have the very fun kitchen fight) Rhys isn't happy- but he understands. Azriel has always felt responsible for broken things.

But thats not his job, it's Rhysands job, and Rhys has already made that tough choice for the safety of his own: Nesta has no place here. When she resurfaces inevitably, broke and wanting something, Rhys will stop her before she gets close enough to upset (hurt) Feyre. It's his job.

Cassian goes missing, and Rhysand sets upon what will become his eventual move: Illyria's value is strength. (a martial strength that belongs to RHYS). But they think they can take from him? They can destroy their own best chance? (Rhys recognizes Cassian's value to Illyria even while, you know, ordering him to slaughter Illyrians) They would threaten his power? hurt his family?

Rhys will not allow a world to exist where Feyre can be hurt.

If Illyria can't be controlled, Illyria will be put down, like the rabid creatures they are. (They were always backwards, Rhys thinks. Freeing my mother was the one good thing my father ever did)

But Cassian lives.

Rhys asks Azriel if he's been cursed. Az laughs in his face.

And Cassian is a terrible enemy to have. The strategies the loyalists are using? His, filtered through Rhys. The magical contingencies? Cassian and Az, trying to prevent bloodshed.

Feyre thinks, for a long time, that maybe the rebels have Nesta. What else could compel Cassian to even care? these people keep trying to kill him. they want to kill Rhys. the brothers suffered in the frozen mud at the hands of these monsters, what is Cassian doing?

And then the massacre happens.

And Feyre sick to her stomach, cries when she hears. Rhysand thinks about a little hazel eyed boy who'd never had a bed, a present, who'd been nothing until Rhysand plucked him up- a little boy who'd grown into a dangerous man, who'd just killed every person who ever contributed to his pain. Rhys thinks, knowing he'll have to punish Cassian for this, that it's over.

The camp lords are dead, it has to be over.

(Azriel hears and understands- because he knows damn well Cassian was something before Rhysand, and after despite him. That beneath those repeatedly broken ribs is a heart that was once so big so save him, grown strong enough now to save everyone who was like them: forgotten, abandoned, used.)

It's not over. The mountains are burning. Banners fly on northern wind in a language long dead. They're singing, the spies say, they call him dawn. Loyal-heart-as-dawn.

It's Cassians name. Not that Rhys, who never knew more than a few vile insults in the language of his mother's ancient, proud people, understood it then.

Rhysand, the long-suffering hero of his own story, has been betrayed.

He can risk no more- it's time to end this madness. It's Feyre's idea to use Elain- it's Feyre who is left crying, a betrayal Rhysand will never forget- when Elain, who they've given everything, Elain, perhaps just as broken and wretched as her eldest sister, refuses to help keep Feyre safe.

(Elain refuses to participate in what she sees as genocide, but as we've established, what consequences exist? the ones Rhys feels right in front of his face)

Azriel, Elain, and Lucien run.

Of course, if both Feyre's sisters are capable of betraying her, of course, both of Rhysand's brothers would as well. They are one in the same, aren't they? Marked by destiny, by fate for this hard and terrible work- of course it hurts. Of course- but Rhysand will stop it from hurting Feyre any more.

There's one force in the world that can stand in truth against Illyria. The Darkbringers- their ancestral, ancient conquers.

(Yes, I do think Rhys knows the shitty, shitty history of his court! He just doesn't care! He didn't do it. He's different. He's in Velaris with the common people. He has wings. He's not his father.)

(He is, in fact, far worse)

When he thinks of it, it seems perfect. Illyria will be destroyed- a loss, but a safe one. Keir, will, almost certainly, also be destroyed or at least critically weakened.

Rhysand will stand alone, the man who was willing to do anything for peace. He will rule over an emptied playing field, secure in a world where Feyre is safe.

The Hewn City empties, the armies march- Rhysand holds tight Feyre's hand, says nothing about the fact that nothing, nothing, will stop Keir from killing anyone in front of him when battle starts, and reaches once more for Cassian's mind.

His brother, his friend, his loyal right hand- he begs him to come back. To come home. That they can put down this rebellion and in his love for Cassian everything can go back to how it is meant to be, all of them together.

It does not occur to him to address the hundreds dead. The system he was complicit in and responsible for that ground a culture to dust and ash- what matters is brother against brother should never have turned, and Rhys, in his kindness, will offer Cassian this last chance for honor.

Rhys doesn't want Cassian to die- he wants Cassian by his side- but he will drown the world in blood before he'll lose his crown and hope and Feyre.

And when Cassian dies, falling to the earth in Rhysand's arms, Rhys thinks of penance.

A circle closed.

But of course- Cassian wakes. Death is not done with her right hand anymore than the contract between Lordship and land in immutable. Cassian brought the magic back, brought Illyria back.

Rhys is fighting for something personal- Cassian is fighting for a whole world and future, with everything in himself.

When the new border is drawn, Rhys doesn't despair- sure he's shaking, he's covered in Cassian's blood, his twelve thousand year old walls are smoking and the whole world smells like fucking Nesta Archeron- he's been the victim of curses before.

He won't let it keep him down. He'll be fine. He has Feyre, they're safe. Illyria is going to implode- and maybe, maybe, he'll save some of those that remain when the violence is too much, when they need a real High Lord.

They'll come home. Just like Feyre's sisters will. Rhysand's brothers. They fought for peace and Velaris has it- it is their home.

It's what they fought for, the happy ending, and it's all worth it.

It has to be worth it.

#Rhys is deadset a huge narcissist #and in the middle of a breakdown the entirety of daylight #he's SO HURT #But's turning all that hurt into anger #and an even stricter paranoia #its all catching up to him #everything from imperialism #to the shitty way he treated his friends #to the Winter Massacre that yes was absolutely him #this is more of a Shoreless Concept but all of feysand can be summed up #by Feyre making teary BUT WE'RE FAMILY demands and Rhys immediately committing a literal warcrime #and like #I do think Rhys hates himself too #but for wildly the wrong reasons #and never more or in a real way that overcomes how much he thinks everything he does is right #Cassian's death was a cost to them #as Nesta tells Feyre: what's done cannot be undone. Rhys chose wrong #the truly bonkers Rhys thing in canon #will always be that he's both represented as Most Powerful Ever #and the wrongly ignored underdog #when in fact he throws around power constantly for petty shitty reasons

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worldwidemochiguy · 4 years

Text

Sweets (Soft Yandere! Jungkook)

You keep being visited by the most peculiar thief…

➵ in which jungkook steals your lip balm and perfume instead of talking to you, you leave a post-it note with your number on it for the strange thief who only seems to take the most inexplicable items and has a strange sense of responsibility for your wellbeing, and the cute boy in your photography class with the fluffy hair and the oversized sweater keeps getting more and more endearing…

➵ Warnings: Soft Yandere Jungkook, Breaking & Entering but without the Breaking, Reader is a bit of a ditz (lol sorry guys)

➵ Word Count: 4.2K

➵ Masterlist

“Hello, uh, I’d like to… report a crime?”

Your statement, which had always sounded suitably firm and assertive when you practised it in front of the bathroom mirror, ended with an unplanned upturn, making it sound more like a question than you would like.

“Please state your name and address, ma’am.”

You did so, listening anxiously to the tap of a keyboard as your information was filed away. The undoubtedly over-worked police officer on the other end of the line sounded like he was two seconds from falling asleep, and you questioned yourself for the millionth time over whether you really needed to report this or not.

“What is the nature of the crime you are reporting, ma’am?”

“Um… well…”

You twisted your hand into the fabric of your shirt self-consciously, trying to decide the best way to explain the strange little occurrences that had been surrounding your apartment over the last few months. You had not yet found a way to put it without sounding ridiculous, but you supposed there was a first time for everything.

“I, uh, I think someone’s breaking into my apartment and stealing things.”

“You have an intruder?”

“Uh huh,”

“…Are they currently in your residence?”

“No, I think… they come and take things when I’m not here and then they’re gone by the time I get back.”

“What items have been stolen?”

You bit your lip.

“I know it sounds silly, but…”

“No crime is too small to report, ma’am. We are committed to making the lives of everyday citizens safer.”

“Well… they’ve stolen my lip balm like… several times. I keep buying new ones and they keep being stolen after a week or so. And my perfume. And my hairbrush one time, and-”

“Ma’am,” The officer cut you off with the impatience you had been both anticipating and dreading ever since you decided to call the police, “Listen, we don’t have the capacity to deal with prank callers-”

“It’s not a prank call!” You blurted, a momentary burst of desperation overtaking you, “I- um, sorry for interrupting, officer, but this isn’t a prank call. Things have been going missing. I can’t afford to keep replacing my lip balm.”

A sigh crackled across the line, and you pictured the officer maybe taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose like those people in movies always seemed to do when they got frustrated. Personally, you had never found that it helped.

“Are you sure you aren’t just… misplacing them?”

You gasped, offended that even a stranger could think you so stupid. “No! I remember exactly where I leave things and then they just vanish! I swear!”

“Has anything of value ever been taken from your apartment?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, excited to be able to prove the officer wrong, “My bunny plushy! Mr Snuggles is extremely valuable to me!”

“…Monetary value, I meant. Has anything expensive ever been taken from your apartment?”

There was an embarrassing silence. The officer sighed again, with a little more exasperation colouring his tone.

“If anything significant is stolen, call us back. For now, just… be a bit more careful with your possessions.”

He hung up. You pressed your forehead against the wall and wished your strange thief had taken your phone in one of his little visits. Maybe then you would’ve avoided making that agonising call.

The next morning as you were leaving to go to class, you noticed a pile of discarded post-it notes on your desk — the remnants of a redbull-fuelled late night study session. Your newly purchased lip balm lay next to it. Impulsively, you grabbed a pen and scrawled a message on one of the post-its, sticking it horizontally to the curved surface of the lip balm tube.

it reads:

pls don’t take this i just bought it and this brand is actually v expensive and i am only a struggling college student with loans and chapped lips (。•́︿•̀。)

It might have been a little too polite considering it’s intended recipient was someone who had stolen multiple items from your apartment, but you figured there was no point in being rude. They probably wouldn’t even read it anyway.

You strolled out of your apartment, planning to pick up a smoothie on the way to your lecture, and promptly forgot all about it.

When you returned home to find a pile of newly bought lip balms on your desk — all embossed with the logo of your favourite brand — you were slightly puzzled. But, once you remembered the note you had left- well, the confusion didn’t exactly vanish, but at least you were given some context.

The note had disappeared, along with the lip balm you had used a scant few times. But, you didn’t understand what the thief’s aim was. Why on earth would they steal small things like lip balm and perfume? And why would they buy you new copies of the product? Wasn’t that counterproductive?

you’re very bad at your job

Your next note read, stuck to your fridge as you left to grab coffee with your study group. It remained there for a few days, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart sank a little each time you saw it hadn’t been taken.

After six days, when it finally vanished, you felt an odd sense of happiness bubble up within you. Yes, there was someone routinely breaking into your apartment, but at least now you had an open channel of communication with them. They had left a brand new bottle of your preferred perfume — which had been stolen at least twice before you stopped bothering to buy it because perfume is pricy — resting on your kitchen counter, beside a box of your favourite chocolates.

As you dug into the box later, snuggled in a blanket and having a Studio Ghibli film marathon, you didn’t even consider the fact that the sweets might be tampered with. If they wanted to kill me, they would’ve killed me already, you reasoned to yourself, sucking the icing sugar off your fingers. Nor did you question how they knew your favourite chocolate. If they broke into your apartment as much as you assumed they did, they probably knew you better than your own parents by now.

You were the very definition of a broke college student. As far as you were concerned, if this random stranger wanted to buy you things and sometimes clean up your apartment — you had definitely come back to a home tidier than you had left it more than once — then you certainly weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was a little naïve of you, but… you had already called the police, and they hadn’t cared.

thank you for the perfume and chocolate <3

You wrote next morning, hesitating slightly before putting the heart. Before you could convince yourself not to, you scribbled another line underneath.

i wish you’d write back someday…

As you walked to class, you scolded yourself for the butterflies swooping in your stomach. They’re literally a criminal, you told yourself, Stop getting crushes on anyone who shows you the slightest bit of attention. You don’t even know their name.

Despite the small amount of common sense that you did have mocking you all day, you sat in classes and daydreamed about your mystery home intruder. Would they read the note? Would they be happy about your appreciation? Would they — you bit your lip — would they write back?

You felt like a dumb schoolgirl, excited by the prospect of a badly written love note shoved in her locker. And, like a school girl, you trudged back home with your arms weighed down by class work, a billion essays and quizzes that had to be completed overnight. Did your professors not realise you had a life outside of college? Not that you did, of course, but like… in principle.

You were so preoccupied with the coursework that you didn’t even notice the note stuck to your bedroom door. After an hour of studying, you rose wearily to start fixing yourself something to eat, and your eyes snagged on a flash of yellow.

You squeaked, almost falling over yourself in your rush to get to the door and read the note.

i’m glad you liked them. i’m sorry i took your things, that was mean of me. i tried to only take things you wouldn’t miss, but i guess that backfired… i just wanted to feel close to you. and these notes… are the closest i’ve ever been. i know that must sound weird, but… well. i’m a weird guy, i guess. i just liked hearing from you. that’s all.

~ koo <3

You didn’t stop freaking out for a full five minutes. After that, you poured over every detail of the letter, eager to extricate any fragment of knowledge possible. You ended up with a list which you scribbled down in your diary, above which you pasted the note.

The list went as follows:

They want to feel close to you

They have not talked to you before, since the notes are the closest they’ve ever been, but they must have seen you in person at least once

They are a he

(you adamantly did not get flustered about that)

and

4. He calls himself Koo

When you left your apartment the next morning, you placed your note on the exact same spot he had left his. An indirect touch.

hi koo !!!!!!!!

i was so excited to see you had written something!! you know, if you want to talk to me more often, there is an easier way…

Underneath you had scrawled your phone number, hastily and not allowing for regret before you flounced out of the apartment. The reason why you were in such a rush was because you were about to go to your favourite class: Photography 101.

You had taken it as an extra credit, something that interested you but not enough that you wanted to pursue it as a career. You had expected it to be fun, something artistic to break up the monotony of classes. What you had not expected was the dreamy boy who sat in the first row and had full possession of your heart.

You didn’t even know his name, but you were pretty sure you were half in love with him. With fluffy brown hair that fell over his forehead whenever he leaned over to scribble down notes, and cute bunny teeth that stuck out in a flustered smile whenever the professor praised his work in class, he was perhaps the cutest boy you had ever seen.

Though you were sure he had many girls sighing after him, he seemed to be really shy, only ever speaking in class when called on, and even then it was in a quiet, soft voice. He was kind of like you in that respect. But that was where your similarities ended.

Yes, you thought, sighing as you watched him pay avid attention to the professor’s lecture on the composition of frames, his cute doe eyes wide and twinkling like stars were embedded in the pupils, He is way out of my league.

It took three days for you to lose hope. You hadn’t received a text, nor had you found any notes left for you. You tried not to be disappointed, even as your traitorous sub-conscience mocked you for being able to scare away the one person who arguably paid you the most attention.

You didn’t really have many friends, and the ones you did have preferred each other over you, and often left you out of activities because of your shy nature. You guessed this whole thing had just been a way to feel like you actually mattered to someone, like, for once, someone cared about you, but-

You were pulled out of your musings as your phone chimed.

From: Unknown Number

[6:48 PM]

this is koo

The two of you texted every day, and soon enough you were hiding your phone underneath your desk in order to chat to him, keeping your phone on your person at all times in case koo wanted to talk. Of course, the only class you didn’t do this in was Photography, so you could spend a blissful forty-five minutes staring at the boy who played the role of your husband in all of your favourite daydreams.

Koo still broke into your house occasionally, and he still left you sweet, considerate gifts. Often, you would receive texts like this:

From: koo ✨

[3:24 PM]

sweets i’ve been checking your groceries and your vegetables are not being eaten as often as they should be

i know you have a sweet tooth and that’s cute but please try to stay healthy

To: koo ✨

[3:25 PM]

but i can’t cook all i know how to make is microwaveable mac n cheese :///////

You came back home that day to discover a bunch of Tupperwares full of pre-made healthy meals and a note stuck to the top of them.

try microwaving these :)

To: koo ✨

[3:01 AM]

koo are you awake?

From: koo ✨

[3:01 AM]

i am now

what’s wrong?

To: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

i can’t sleep :////////

From: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

sweets you need to go to bed

you have an early morning class

To: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

i knowwwwww

i just… i can’t sleep without mr snuggles :((

From: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

Mr Snuggles??

???

To: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

my cuddly bunny :((((

i think you took him a while ago

could i maybe have him back…?

From: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

Shit

i didn’t know you couldn’t sleep without him

[3:04 AM]

sweets im so sorry

To: koo ✨

[3:04 AM]

its okay koo

From: koo ✨

[3:04 AM]

no it isn’t

you’re loosing sleep because of me

fuck

i could… bring him to you?

To: koo ✨

[3:05 AM]

you’d do that?

…i could see you?

From: koo ✨

[3:05 AM]

no i’d leave him outside

you’d have to promise not to come out until i text you saying i’ve left

To: koo ✨

[3:06 AM]

but kooooo :(((((

From: koo ✨

[3:07 AM]

sweets

To: koo ✨

[3:07 AM]

okay :((((((((((

but i expect you to leave a big box of chocolates on my pillow for me to come home to tomorrow evening!!

From: koo ✨

[3:08 AM]

of course sweets <3

im gonna get going now

don’t look outside your apartment

To: koo ✨

[3:08 AM]

okay

From: koo ✨

[3:34 AM]

im gone and mr snuggles is waiting outside for you

he might have a little gift with him

You trudged outside your apartment, rubbing your eyes blearily, and looked down to see your beloved plushie clutching a single rose in its paws. You gasped, leaning down to pick up the flower gently, and you noticed all the thorns had been taken off. Koo must’ve removed them so that you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself.

You felt warmth flood you, drowning the butterflies in your stomach and replacing them with something much less fleeting, much less shallow.

It sunk into your bones, into your heart, into your breath as you sighed, squeezing your long-lost Mr Snuggles close to your face. He carried the familiar scent of nostalgia, but also something different, something sharper. You realised with a jolt that you were smelling Koo’s cologne.

You went back to bed, nuzzled your face into the plushy’s furry belly, and dreamed of fluffy brown hair and bunny smiles.

Though with Mr Snuggles’ help you were able to sleep wonderfully, you were only able to do so for four hours before your alarm jolted you back into early reality. Honestly, you were sorely tempted to just ditch class, but it was Photography, and if you missed your regular dose of the cute boy in the front row then you thought you might just crumble into dust.

You dragged yourself out of bed, pulling on your softest oversized hoodie — a gift from Koo which, now that you thought about it, smelled like the same cologne that Mr Snuggles did. You flushed at the thought of him giving you one of his hoodies to wear, though you couldn’t say exactly why that image charmed you.

You stumbled into the lecture, arms full of textbooks because you knew you wouldn’t have the energy to return back to your apartment to retrieve the relevant materials for your next class later in the day. Your excellent plan was to crash in the library directly after this, have a two hour power-nap, and then make yourself get up in time for Calculus.

You barely had the energy to listen to the professor droning on and on about… the perfect lense, or whatever. You allowed yourself the indulgence of tuning out, resting your chin on your palm and gazing dreamily at the boy in the front row. He was taking notes, as per usual. What a good student! You praised him in your head. I bet he has the best handwriting.

Despite your best efforts, you fell asleep within ten minutes. You were woken as the class concluded by the clamour of students grabbing their materials and the scrape of chairs as your classmates stood up, leaving you behind — the only one half-splayed across the desk in front of you.

You jerked upright, grabbing your stuff in one hand as you tried to tug on your bag, eventually succeeding with much struggle, only to drop it all again as soon as you stood up. You whimpered, watching helplessly as your textbooks fanned across the floor. You saw one of them split along the spine as it landed on an open page.

That cost me two hundred dollars, you thought absently, and I just chucked it down like a bouncy ball.

Suddenly, you glimpsed someone crouching down and gathering them all up into a sturdy pile. As he stood up, your vision was full of fluffy brown hair, errant strands falling into star-filled doe eyes.

Oh. Oh no.

“H-Here you are,” He murmured, passing you the pile gently, making sure you were able to take the weight before leaving them in your arms. When he leaned close to you, you breathed in a scent that was oddly familiar, and yet new at the same time. As his hands receded, his skin brushed against yours for a second and you swear your vision blanked out.

“Thanks,” You whispered, your gaze so firmly focused on the floor that you didn’t notice his flushed cheeks.

As soon as you got to the library, you whipped out your phone, all tiredness banished from your system by that momentous experience. You had talked to him.

To: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

koo i think im in love

From: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

what

with who

To: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

this boy in my photography class

he’s just so-

[8:48 AM]

i can’t even explain it

i dropped my textbooks and he picked them up for me and i stg i almost cried

From: koo ✨

[8:48 AM]

wait

seriously??

To: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

yeah i cry at like the drop of a hat

From: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

no-

cute

but i mean

that’s who you’re in love with?

To: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

yeah?

From: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

gray sweater

[8:50 AM]

big eyes

tall-ish

that’s him???

To: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

OMG YOU’RE IN MY PHOTOGRAPHY CLASS AREN’T YOU

From: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

WHAT

IM NOT

To: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

OMGGGGGGG

YOU SAW HIM HELP ME SO YOU MUST BE IN MY CLASSSS

[8:51]

okay!

are you the frat guy who always comes in hungover???

no judgement

From: koo ✨

[8:51 AM]

To: koo ✨

[8:52 AM]

are you the guy who only ever wears knitwear???

From: koo ✨

[8:52 AM]

To: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

…are you the professor?

From: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

NO!!!!!

oh my god lets just meet up or something before i explode

To: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

WAIT

ARE YOU SERIOUS????

From: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

…you’re that excited to meet me?

To: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

OF COURSE I AM

OH MY GODDDD

WHEN?

From: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

now?

i can meet you at the campus coffee shop in like five minutes?

To: koo ✨

[8:55 AM]

five minutes???

that’s not enough time koo i have to go home and pick out something pretty to wear !!

From: koo ✨

[8:55 AM]

it doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re always beautiful to me

To: koo ✨

[8:56 AM]

you

you think im

b-beautiful

: ’ ))))))))))

From: koo ✨

[8:57 AM]

…

haha see you there!!

To: koo ✨

[8:57 AM]

GET BACK HERE WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS-

You sat on an empty table, fiddling with the tea bag tag which hung over the side of your mug. You had bought Green Tea as an effort to calm yourself down so you weren’t too anxious to meet Koo, but it hadn’t worked because you were impatient and sipped it too soon so now you were sat there nursing a burnt tongue like an idiot.

You knew it was irrational to be self-conscious. He already knew who you were, and seemed to like you, it was just you that was in the dark. You went over the possible people Koo could be, mentally cycling through the boys in your photography class. It was an annoyingly large class, which meant he would be anyone from the guy who smelled like Funyuns to-

Fluffy-haired boy strolled into the coffee shop and you let out an involuntary sigh. He seemed to be cheerful, a smile exposing his bunny teeth and making his cheeks bunch up adorably, with like, five different sets of dimples poked into them. You had never agreed more with the saying that dimples were caused by an angel’s kiss.

Well, at least I’ll have something nice to look at while I wait, you thought, just before all your thoughts suddenly tipped out of your head when you realised he was walking towards your table.

“Is this seat taken?” He grinned, before sliding into the seat across from you.

You whimpered, and his smile grew devastatingly wider.

“Hi,” He breathed, before his gaze flickered down to your mug of tea, clutched so tightly in your hands that you worried the ceramic might shatter. “You didn’t get hot chocolate? I thought you had a sweet tooth?”

“Uhm-” You choked, before forcing yourself to get a grip. How would Koo feel if he walked in here and saw you sitting with another guy? “I’m actually- I’m waiting for someone. Sorry.”

If it was possible — and it certainly seemed to be — the boy’s grin broadened even more, his eyes crinkling into adorable half-moons.

“Is that so? Is he your boyfriend?”

“No!” You blurted, before flushing profusely. The boy across from you seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the display. “I mean- uhm, I don’t know. Maybe? This is our- this is our first actual meeting.”

“Oh?” The boy tilted his head, “Really? How exciting.”

You hummed in agreement, eyes fixed on your slowly cooling beverage. You raised it to your mouth to take a hesitant sip and- nope, still too hot. You whined quietly, rubbing your sore tongue against the inside of your cheek to try and soothe it.

“Oh, sweets,” The boy murmured across from you, and you were too distracted to notice the nickname. He plucked the mug out of your hands and placed it on the other side of the table, as if he was trying to make sure it couldn’t hurt you anymore. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the campus infirmary?”

“Wha- no, it’s okay,” You mumbled, lisping slightly on your burnt tongue and blushing when he cooed over you, “It’s- I’m waiting here for someone, and- I mean, I don’t even know your name-”

“It’s Jungkook,” He interrupted cheekily, deliberately ignoring the rest of your statement, “Some people call me Kookie, and really special people call me… Koo.”

Oh. Oh.

Fuck.

“Really special people?” You asked, your voice small, and not because of the burn.

“Well, people…” Jungkook- Koo paraphrased, tilting his head slightly, “I guess it would be more accurate to say… one really special person.”

“Really?” You breathed, and Jungkook leaned over the table, close enough that you could smell his cologne, the same scent embedded in the fabric of your hoodie- his hoodie.

“The most special person.” He murmured, the fervent emotion packed in each word speaking louder than any increase of volume could.

You had never been anyone’s most special person before, but, as you looked into Jungkook’s chocolate eyes, you started to believe you could almost taste it, sticky sweet on your lips. And when Jungkook eventually, finally coaxed your lips in a gentle kiss, you let him in, and found out that happiness tastes reassuringly honey-sweet.

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