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papergirllife · 3 years

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Nakamoto Yuta

College AU

Synopsis:

Moving into a new rental lands you with three roommates, Luna, a bubbly and outgoing college girl, and Yuta, the foreign student from Osaka. Moving in was easy enough until the three of you get a super king sized bed to cut back on spending, bringing the three of you closer than ever, that is until Luna and Yuta get tangled up in a messy relationship as you watch from the sidelines, they say a rainbow comes after a storm, but the rainbow unexpectedly shines onto you.

In which the classic ‘there’s only one bed’ trope gets a huge twist.

warnings : slow burn, minor angst, smut, lots of fluff.

word count : 11.7k

A/N : this was written during the start of 2020, and went through major editing before I decided to gift this to you as a gift for a new year in 2022, I hope you guys love this, once again inspired by one of my dreams.

3rd of December, 2020.

You let the agent bring you into an apartment that was obviously over budget for its monthly rent, admiring the scenic park slash garden view that greeted you. The apartment was very close to campus, hence its expensive pricing. Unbeknownst to you, two more people came to take a look at the apartment during your slot, it was a boy and a girl of your age.

“The three of you could rent this apartment together, think about it, it’ll be much more cheaper than getting an apartment for yourself, and with the three of your budgets, it’ll cover the rent and it’s much easier and faster to travel to school living here,” the lady persuaded, putting on her best ‘agent smile’ she could muster up to three broke college kids.

At first you were sceptic of the idea, but during the discussion, the girl, who you would’ve grown to know, Luna, is really friendly. As for the boy, Yuta, he was a rather reserved person, and promised that he doesn’t party and brings girls home on a whim, which seemed promising, given that he definitely didn’t fit in the regular stereotype of men around here, with the black nails and retro shirts, you’d think he’d be living in exciting places like New York, instead of a small town outside of Busan.

The three of you signed the agreement on the spot, looking around the empty apartment, dreading the amount of money you guys would have to spend on furniture.

4th of December, 2020.

“I’m so glad that there’s a sale going on, or we would’ve blew our budget once we walked in,” Luna, the most talkative among the three of you commented as she was examining which couch to get, her eagerness to try on every couch by plopping herself onto every one she sees oddly reminded you of Goldilocks.

Luckily for her, you and Yuta didn’t have much preferences, other than preferring dark colours to avoid stains, typical requirements from busy college kids that rarely have time to tidy up.

“The two of you can go look at study tables first, I’ll join you later, hopefully with the perfect couch for us,” she said with a pretty smile on her face, Luna’s beautiful, anyone with eyes can tell.

You and Yuta nodded mindlessly looking at sign boards to see where were the desks displayed at, you’ve rarely been to Ikea unless your family really had to replace old furniture, so this place was a maze to you.

When you saw a suitable desk, you got too excited and didn’t look closely before you walked, almost bumping into a man with a huge trolley and a big heavy box.

You felt your body kick into a flight or fight mode, legs scrambling to get away but with no avail due to the confined space, you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impending pain, that is, until you felt a pair of sturdy hands wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you back into a warm embrace.

When you realise you weren't going to be flat ironed by a piece of unassembled furniture, you slowly pried your eyes open to see Yuta’s face above yours, his worried eyes looking into yours.

“Are you okay?” Yuta asked as he slowly manoeuvred you swiftly back onto your two feet.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you, Yuta,” you told him, your voice just above a whisper, the close proximity with Yuta had your mind dizzy.

“You’re welcome, next time, please check both sides before walking, sale periods are hectic here, we wouldn't want your pretty head to be cracked open, am I right?” Yuta teased before he guides you to where you have wanted to go, a hand on your back.

“I know, I’ll be more careful next time. Come on, I think that desk would work well for me, you should check it out too,” you said as you reached back and pulled him by the elbow, the feeling of relief and excitement settling into your mind, placing Yuta in a good limelight in your eyes.

The three of you are at the bedding section now, eyes wide in disbelief that a super king size which was on offer would be cheaper than three singles together.

“They even have an offer for the bed rack? While the singles get no discounts?” Yuta complained, leaning down to check the prices once more to confirm.

Luna crashed onto the bed, examining the mattress.

“You know, we could always share the bed, there’s so much space left. Wouldn’t that be better than buying three singles? And we could save more money this way,” she suggested, looking between the two of you.

“I don’t feel comfortable sleeping next to a guy, Luna. No offence to you, Yuta, I’m just...

“No, I’m not offended, I understand where you’re coming from,” Yuta said as he sits down on the bed, testing the feeling.

“I don’t mind, I grew up with many siblings anyways, I can be the sandwich in the middle,” Luna offered.

Yuta only nodded, always going along with the flow of the two of you.

25th of March, 2021.

First term exams just ended while holidays just began, Luna had taken a liking towards partying after meeting this group of new friends. Usually she just does this on weekends, but today, she was in for a celebration.

“You guys should come along, it’ll be fun, meet new people, get free drinks, and maybe even get some action, I haven’t gotten laid in so long, you should try it sometime,” Luna chided you, “I have a few dresses that will suite you well,” Luna offered, always the one to bring up any topic regarding boys.

“You go enjoy yourself, Luna. I still need to get some work done before the next semester starts,” you said, gesturing at the pile of books and papers on your desk.

“What a bore. How about you, Yuta?” Luna said as she bounces on her heels, looking at Yuta with those pretty eyes of hers, her puppy eyes were really useful on lecturers, maybe they’d work on Yuta too.

“I’ll have to pass, Luna. My team and I wants to brush up for next term, there’s a dance we have to present for our coursework points for next term,” Yuta explained.

Yuta was a dance major, while you on the opposing spectrum entirely, studied journalism, and Luna is taking a mass communications course.

“What kind of lecturer does that?” Luna said with a huff before checking her hair in the mirror.

“He is sort of strict, and we have surprise tests all the time, so I don’t think I’ll have any time for parties, have fun Luna,” Yuta says as he packs his bag, preparing to head to his friends.

“Okay, I’ll head out now, call me if anything happens,” Luna said before she walked out.

“Wanna watch Howl’s Moving Castle with me?” Yuta said after he finished busying his things.

“Don’t you have practice to get to?” you asked, looking back at the actually quite empty bag, his large water bottle wasn’t even sticking out of it like it tends to be.

“Nah, I just got bored of parties, had to make up an excuse for her. What about you?” Yuta asked, always trying to get to know you better, unlike Luna, you rarely ever talked about yourself.

“Partying isn’t my thing, I assume you don’t really enjoy them either?” you asked, you were always intrigued by Yuta’s character.

“Nope,” Yuta said as he turns on the laptop, hands out reached to offer you a snack on the table as the music of the movie plays softly.

5th of April, 2021.

“I officially have a boyfriend now,” Luna announces after a night out, which according to her just now, was just a casual dinner with a friend.

“Who is it?” you asked when you looked up from your laptop, taking a break from your latest report. You weren’t all that surprised, it was a given, being as gorgeous as her.

“His name is Vince and I met him at a party not long ago and asked me out, we’ve gone out on a few dates now, and today he finally asked me to be his girlfriend,” Luna said giddily, her eyes could have pink hearts popping out of them and still you wouldn't be alarmed.

“Congrats, Luna. I’m so happy for you,” you said as you spun your chair around for fun.

“Congratulations, Luna,” Yuta muttered as he grabbed a jacket and went out of the house, saying that he needs to pick up something from the store.

You were always an observant person, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Yuta and his fondness towards Luna, but the poor boy never made a move towards her, maybe he knows his chances aren't all that high, Yuta is the most handsome guy you've ever seen, but if Luna was interested, you're sure she would’ve made a move long ago, she was always the confident type, rejection isn't a vocabulary in her dictionary.

You could tell that Luna knew about Yuta having a crush on her when Luna looked like she was at a compromising position after her sudden announcement, so you didn’t say anything, instead you changed the topic and asked about how her boyfriend looked like, letting Luna show you photos saved in her phone.

21st of June, 2021.

You woke up in the middle of the night to whispers coming from beside you, you turned your head to Luna’s side, straining your ears.

“Quiet down, you might wake her up,” you heard Yuta whisper.

You heard shuffling from beside you as the bed dips gradually from the movements.

“She’s asleep, she always moves when she’s asleep, stop being paranoid, Yuta,” Luna whispered back.

“I’m being paranoid? You have a boyfriend, Luna, we can’t keep doing this. It’s cheating,” Yuta hissed in a hushed tone.

“One last time, just let me touch you, Yuta,” Luna begged quietly.

“No, this is wrong. If you really want to continue this, then break up with Vince,” Yuta retorted.

“It doesn’t matter whether I have a boyfriend or not, Yuta. Like you said, no strings retorted,” Luna countered back.

“I’m tired, I don’t want anything tonight, we’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Yuta whispered back, a finality in his tone.

“Fine,” Luna said as she turns back to your side, huffing out a breath of anger.

8th of July, 2021.

Vince, Luna’s boyfriend, had initiated that he wanted to meet her roommates to get to know you and Yuta over dinner. So now here you were, letting Luna fuss over what your outfit for tonight would be.

“I don’t think my outfit matters, as long as you look nice, Luna. I’m fine with sticking to my sweaters and jeans,” you said, knowing that she's the main star of the show tonight, it's not like Vince is going to care when his girlfriend is beside him.

“Don’t worry, I have tons of clothes, here, this set would look good on you,” Luna said as she passes you a skirt and a lace detailed crop top, nothing you’d wear on a daily basis, but it is pretty.

“This would look perfect on you, and the weather’s warm. Now I just need to do your make up,” she said before turning to her make up pouch.

“Luna, dinner’s in 40 minutes, you should get ready now,” you said, worried that Luna wouldn't have enough time to fuss over her own appearance.

“Right, shit. I completely lost track of time, here you go, this has really nice colours, then I’ll help you do mascara later,” Luna said as she passes you one of her expensive palettes.

You took it in your hands, not knowing what to do with it. You’ve never tried doing your own make up before.

Yuta looked up from his phone, he was already ready, just a change of pants and he’d be out in no time. He looks at the confused look on your face, smiling at how miffed you were.

“Come here, let me help you. I toyed around with eyeshadow with my sister before and I think I’m quite decent at it,” Yuta said after turning off his phone, patting the empty spot next to him.

You sat next to Yuta on the couch, passing him the palette. He takes it in his hand, telling you to close your eyes. You could feel his fingers drawing circles on your eye lid, his palm touching your cheeks in the process. The feeling of his warm hand on your cheek made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and sooner than you wanted, he pulled away.

“Done.”

You open your eyes only to stare back into Yuta’s big round ones, getting lost in the little galaxies of his eyes as he checks his handiwork, your face heating up when you noticed the close proximity between the two of you.

“Perfect.”

You quickly broke eye contact and snapped out from the trance when you heard Luna’s footsteps coming from the closet the three of you have converted from a spare room.

“Yuta, why are you still in your sweats? And I really love that colour, great choice, but you should lose the glasses for tonight, then your eyes would pop more,” Luna said, already dressed to the nines.

You were going to say that it wasn’t your effort, but you clammed up from the interaction you had with Yuta, only choosing to nod as you watch his figure retreat to the bedroom to get changed, taking off your glasses that were perched on your head.

“So? How do I look?” Luna asked, doing a small twirl in front of you.

“Pretty like always,” even though everything seems a bit blurry to you now.

When the three of you got to the restaurant, Vince was already there, barbecuing some meat he had ordered.

“Hey, you must be Yuta,” Vince said to Yuta before doing the same greeting towards you, “have a seat guys. Hi babe, you look gorgeous tonight,” Vince said as he opens an arm to Luna, smooching a kiss on her lips even though there were sauce on his lips.

Vince, according to Luna, is an exchange student from America, and his mom was Korean, so he had this mix of American heartthrob from the 90′s and the everyday Korean college boy look, no wonder Luna was head over heels for him, his personality on the other hand, was something else. Vince rarely asked about you and Yuta, other than what the two of you studied and relationship status, he mostly talked about himself, and a little bit of Luna here and there, talking about what a wild girl she is at parties.

“I’m going to go to the washroom,” Luna said halfway throughout dinner, the awkward silence soon settling in.

“So, Vince. How do you like Korea so far?” you asked, breaking the ice.

“Good, are you local? Like Luna?” he inquired.

“Yeah, I’ve been here my whole life,” you joked, which wasn’t all that false.

“It’s amazing here, the food is great and the ladies are pretty,” Vince said, gesturing Luna’s empty spot.

“Luna is really pretty, you’re a really lucky guy, Vince,” you said.

“You’re not too bad yourself either,” Vince said as his eyes dropped to your chest, eyeing at your exposed skin blatantly.

Before you could do anything about the compromising situation, Yuta took off his jacket and put in on you, buttoning it all the way to the top. You didn’t dare to say anything else, choosing to go back to eating, your left hand reaching over to take Yuta’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as thank you.

Things went back to normal when Luna got back, ranting about how the queue for the lady’s in this mall was really long, her boyfriend ordering more food for her when she complained how hungry she got waiting in line.

After dinner, Vince and Luna went their separate ways.

“Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be sleeping over at his place tonight after our movie,” Luna said with a cheeky wink.

“Okay, stay safe, Luna,” you said before you followed Yuta into his car, his lips in a thin line as he focuses on the road.

When the two of you got home, Yuta immediately took out a bottle of soju and went out to the balcony, taking a seat on one of the foldable chairs you placed outside for when you wanted to read in the morning. You followed soon after you changed into warm comfy clothes, bringing a small blanket out and draped it over Yuta who was only wearing a thin shirt.

“Thank you.”

“I know about you and Luna’s past relationship,” you said, not beating around the bush.

Yuta momentarily froze, eyes wide as he scanned your face, but loosened up when he found no trace of anger or disappointment.

“How did you find out?” Yuta questioned.

“I overhead a conversation you had with her, I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” you apologised.

“Don’t be, we probably ruined your sleep that night.” Yuta took in a deep breathe before he continued, “Luna and I started being friends with benefits when we first moved in, I really liked her, her bubbly personality seemed like it would’ve matched my introvert self, but she said she wasn’t ready for a relationship, so I waited, then this Vince came along. I wanted to stop it, but she didn’t. I thought I could wait a little while more, hoping that she’d be able to see what an asshole he is, but she won’t listen whenever I said he’s an ass,” Yuta confessed in one breath, his voice filled with hurt, taking another swig before he continues, looking straight into your eyes. “I’m going to stop this, I thought she had feelings for me, but actually, she just wanted to toy with my heart, I’m going to stop this thing once and for all,” Yuta explained, not that he needed to, you aren't anyone he owes an explanation to.

You're not sure why Luna is doing this to Yuta, maybe because he’s different, is it because of Yuta being from Osaka? The accent?

“I’m proud of you, Yuta, but are you sure you don’t have anymore feelings for her?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Tonight, I could finally see how toxic she is, she and Vince are a match made in Hell,” Yuta said harshly.

“What did she do to make you think of her that way?” you prodded, not wanting to put Luna under a bad light without any reasoning.

“She tried to touch me under the table just now,” Yuta confessed.

“I... I didn’t know she’d do something like that,” you said honestly, the Luna you had grown to know didn't seem like someone who would do such a thing.

“Stooped low, even for her isn’t it?” Yuta joked darkly, feeling like a fool himself.

“I’m so sorry, Yuta,” you said as you gave him a hug, his head falling on your shoulder.

“I should be the one thanking you, for not judging my fucked up actions,” Yuta said, the way he said it, showed how vulnerable he was, coming clean to you this way.

“We all make mistakes, Yuta, and I’ll always be here for you,” you said as you reached a hand up to stroke his back as he tries to hold in his tears.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” Yuta asked with a slight sniffle.

“No, Yuta, wishing for your love to be requited isn’t a foolish thing. We all need love in our lives, it’s what makes you human,” you said, trying your best to comfort the heartbroken boy.

That night, you were slowly rocked to sleep by Yuta’s warmth in your arms, a lock of your hair in his fingers as he mindlessly plays with them, his other hand on your back, drawing shapeless figures.

“Thank you for letting me in, Yuta. I was really worried about you,” you said, lightly patting his back, the feeling almost maternal.

“I should be the one thanking you, I might have gotten shit faced drunk if you weren’t here, and thanks for giving me courage to officially break it off with her tomorrow,” Yuta said, mentioning how you had gave him input on how to stop this whole messy ordeal.

“I hope she’ll understand,” you said, not knowing what to do if a fight breaks out between the two of them, you’ll definitely be caught up in the middle, that you're sure.

“Yeah,” Yuta agreed as he pulls you closer, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

But deep down, the two of you had a gut feeling that Luna wouldn’t take this lightly.

9th of July, 2021.

You left the apartment and headed to the library once Luna got back in the morning, giving Yuta a thumbs up and encouraging smile before leaving.

Once you were out the door, Luna made her way to Yuta, but when she was about to sit on his lap, he stood up and leaned against the dining table.

“I’m sorry, Luna. I can’t do this anymore,” Yuta said, laying out his cards.

“What do you mean? We’re perfectly fine, why are you doing this to us?” Luna asked, raising her voice, instantly playing the victim.

“There’s no us, Luna. You’re happy with Vince, and it should stay that way, I don’t want to be that asshole who sleeps with another guy’s girl,” Yuta retorted.

“Fine, I’ll break up with him,” Luna said without a hint of remorse for the man she claims she loves.

“No, even if you do, it won’t change my decision. Don’t you see, Luna? You don’t value your relationship with Vince at all. You should learn to love before you commit to someone, don’t get into relationships and ruin every one of them,” Yuta said, being honest about his opinion, and telling it to her as nicely as he could, doing just as you had taught him, he should really thank you for taking psychology as a minor.

“You’re never happy, Yuta. You always demanded for more than you promised to take. I promised your offer months ago, no strings attached, you agreed. Fine, now I offer you sole devotion, but you’re asking me to learn how to love?! What makes you think I don’t know how to love?!” Luna bite backed, her tone lethal, eyes wide in fury, mad that she's not getting what she wants.

“From how easily you discard people, Luna! You said you wanted me at the start, then you met Vince, you said it was over, that you didn’t need the friends with benefits thing anymore because you had a boyfriend, a few weeks later you come back to me again. Do you know how toxic that is?! I can’t believe I just fucking realised it!” Yuta raised his voice back to her, he was nearing his breaking point.

“Why are you doing this, Yuta?! Is there someone else?! Answer me!” Luna demanded, hands fisting his old shirt.

“What if there is?! It’s none of your fucking business anymore, Luna! I deserve my own happiness, and I hope you’ll find yours with Vince or whoever the fuck you’re also sleeping with, because what we have? It’s over,” Yuta said firmly, prying her hands off of him.

Yuta retrieved his wallet from the kitchen island and left the apartment, slamming the door behind his back.

22nd of July, 2021.

Ever since that day, the sleeping arrangements have changed, you in the middle and Luna at your old spot. Things were going as smooth as it could be between the three of you, Luna and Yuta took turns to talk to you in order to avoid snapping at each other at first chance, and as for meals, Yuta would eat outside whenever Luna ordered takeout only for herself and you, and vice versa.

On weekends, Luna partied until the wee hours, coming home completely drunk and getting sick in the toilet at 4 a.m., which means you had to hold her hair for her as she hurled in the toilet bowl, which sometimes wakes Yuta up in the process, scowling at the consequences of her actions before going back to sleep.

Today, however, you only got back past midnight on a Sunday night, studying for a test you’d be having in the next afternoon. You expected them to be asleep by now, but was surprised by the shouting coming from the bedroom.

“Don’t touch me, Luna! I said we’re over! Go look for your Vince!” you heard Yuta said, his voiced raised dangerously high, his temper on the edge.

“I broke up with him, Yuta!” Luna said, the answer that she thought would suffice the man in front of her.

“It doesn’t matter now, I gave you a chance and you didn’t take it! You never appreciated the people that care for you, why should we heed at your every demand when we don't even receive basic respect in return?” Yuta retorted, his tone was dying down, he was tired, Yuta never looked liked to argue.

That’s when you decided to open the door, seeing Yuta restraining Luna’s hands from touching him, the both of them frozen from your sudden appearance.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom,” you said quietly, taking quick steps to the bathroom before Luna got up from the bed and grabbed your wrist.

“I’ve seen this jacket before. It’s Yuta’s isn’t it? Are you sleeping with him?! Is this the reason why you won’t continue what we had Yuta?! For a nerd like her?!” Luna’s grip on you was harsh, her nails digging into the thin layer of skin wrapped around your wrist, her eyes were glaring into yours, before she shifts her deadly gaze back to Yuta.

“No, Luna, I just borrowed his jacket and forgot to return it the other day,” you said, eyes pleading her when she faces you again, not wanting to make this into a bigger mess.

“You guys think I’m blind?! I saw the two of you cuddling when I woke up in the middle of the night! God knows what the two of you are up to when I slept over at Vince’s! How could you?! You’re my friend, I trusted you!” Luna shouted in your face before pushing you, making you fall and your leg hit the corner of your desk chair.

Immediately, Yuta put himself in between you and Luna, helping you up, but you could feel your leg swelling up from the impact, you held onto Yuta’s arm as you took a seat on your chair.

“This is between me and you, Luna. Don’t you fucking dare hurt her again. Get out! Get out of the house!” Yuta said, his voice venomous, his eyes that once shown how tired he was from the argument with her now flares.

“You’re picking her over me?! And this is my house as well, you have no right to kick me out!” she said, her index finger poking at Yuta’s chest, a habit she shows whenever she's mad at someone.

“You’ve been drinking all your money away every weekend, your rental is covered by her scholarship money now! She paid for the landlord so that you could have a place to stay, you think I don’t know?! When you pleaded for her to help you with your part of the bill! I called the agent and cancelled your name, if you don’t leave this instant I’ll call the cops as well, and you better return your 3.2 million won worth of rental back into her account. I can’t imagine how you'd dare question someone who’s been nothing but a good friend to you, Luna,” Yuta said, the very last blow to Luna’s ego.

“Fine! I’ll just crash at Minnie’s,” Luna said with a huff before she begins to gather her things.

“No, Yuta, it’s late-

“No, I’ll go. I don’t want to see both of your ugly faces anyways,” Luna seethes at you, catching you off guard, hurt from her sudden lashing.

Luna packed most of her things into the big suitcase that you recognise was the one she rolled in when the three of you first moved in, calling a taxi on the way out.

“Oh and by the way, that 3.2 million won is for the furniture I’m selling to the two of you,” was the only thing Luna said before she slammed the door behind her.

Yuta mutters the word 'bitch’ before he tended to your leg, grabbing the first aid kit in the kitchen.

“It’s just a bruise, Yuta, don’t bother,” you said, trying to get up from the chair.

“No, I insist. I’ll take you to the hospital for a check up tomorrow, and don’t worry about the rental, I got myself a position for this one month workshop thing in the city, and it pays well, they might even hire me for other workshops if I do well in this one,” Yuta said, trying his best to optimistic.

“Don’t tire yourself out, Yuta. I’ll also be starting my internship soon, I think we'll be able to cover the monthly rent with it,” you said.

“Really? Congratulations. You deserved it,” Yuta said, knowing how you had always wanted to get some experience in your working field.

“Thank you, Yuta.”

Tonight was the most peaceful sleep Yuta has had since a long time, and true to Luna’s words, he did love to cuddle you to sleep.

11th of August, 2021.

You still see Luna on school grounds from time to time, other than the day right after she left when she cleared out her things, as well as her signature pink desk table and chair that is, the sudden empty spot was quite jarring. Soon after her sequined cushions, plushies, and furniture was gone, Yuta replaced them by buying his own things, like a book rack for your novels and his manga collection that were once crammed in boxes, and even got you a few plushies of your liking, knowing your love for Sanrio characters, all laid out on the couch, you replaced all the photos on the wall with just you and Yuta’s, as well as redecorating the kitchen, where Yuta cooks often, throwing out Luna’s pink coloured utensils.

Yuta only had positive comments for the changes, especially the photo frames where you had added a bit of your own touch on them, a sticker here and there to make it feel new.

Whenever it was weekends, you and Yuta had taken a liking to head down to the bowling alley, even though the two of you blatantly sucked at bowling. On rainy days, Yuta would explain what was happening in his mangas, you’re always fascinated whenever he speaks in his mother tongue, always telling him to read aloud for you, even though you don’t even understand a thing, Yuta would always oblige, with a smile on his face, happy that you are so fascinated by his culture.

Yuta could feel his heart gravitating nearer towards yours as the days go by, he saw it coming since months ago, but this time, he doesn’t think or have any suspicion that his feelings towards you had anything to do with losing Luna anymore, he knew that this time, he is completely head over heels for you. Everyday, Yuta tries to work up the courage to tell you, albeit it won’t be a rush, he wants it to be perfect, he isn’t worried of losing you, as you promised, you’ll always be by his side.

20th of August, 2021.

Yuta has been talking about getting a belly button piercing for a few occasions now, you thought he was just messing around, that he’d chicken out and not go through with it, but you definitely second guessed yourself as now you’re in Itaewon, waiting for Yuta to have his belly button pierced.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? I’ve seen a video that showed a woman who had to undergo surgery to remove her belly button piercing,” you said, a video you had watched out of curiosity when it popped up on your YouTube feed.

“I’m sure. It’ll look cool,” Yuta said, not much of a reassurance, this isn't one of his meaningful tattoos, it's much more impulsive, even for Yuta.

“You always get your piercings done alone, why did you bring me this time round?” you asked, as you stepped into the dingy looking parlour.

“Because you said you were free, and constantly being holed up in that tiny apartment isn’t good for you,” Yuta said with a tiny pinch to your arm, his nose scrunched up as he smiles at you.

“You don’t go out that much either,” you retorted, tongue poking out at him.

“That’s why it’ll be an adventure today, come on, it’s my turn.”

Yuta got up and went into the room, the piercer was a man with many piercings and tattoos, which was quite a rare sight among Koreans.

“Which one of you here is getting their navel pierced?”

“That would be me,” Yuta said as he sat down on the recliner chair, that thing always gives you the creeps from the dentist.

The man drew markers on where the piercing would be, asking Yuta to confirm if he wants to go on with the procedure.

“Please take off your shirt, I don’t want it sliding down, since this is a loose shirt,” the man said after Yuta agreed to get his belly button pierced.

When Yuta took his shirt off, you immediately put your hands over your eyes. You had already caught sight of his hips, and you could already feel your cheeks heating up, if you’d see him topless, you would be dead by now. You could hear Yuta’s pretty laugh directed at you when he placed his shirt on your lap as you sat very still on the stool.

“Your girlfriend hasn’t seen you without a shirt on before?” the man asked, very much confused by your reaction.

“No, she hasn’t,” you could feel your heartbeat increasing rapidly at how he didn’t correct the man, but you scolded yourself once you had calmed down a little bit, you were just overanalysing his words, you feel so dumb for feeling like that, he probably just didn’t bother to correct the man.

“Hey come hold my hand, this one is going to hurt more than the ones on the ears,” Yuta said, there might have been a slight tease in his voice, but you're not quite sure.

“Do I really have to?” you groaned, you’re never the type to like physical contact.

“You said you’d be here for moral support, come on, don’t let me go through this alone,” Yuta said, only half begging.

“Okay, fine, don’t guilt trip me,” you got up and kept a hand up to block Yuta from your sight, only looking for his hand when you get there, holding his hand in yours, his shirt, still warm from his body heat, in your other hand.

“Here we go.”

Yuta clasped your hand tightly in his as the man pierced his belly button, a slight wince of pain coming from his mouth, and soon, it was all over, the piercer rummage around to fit the piercing into the hole, but Yuta held your hand until he had his belly button cleansed.

“Done, you guys can leave now.”

Yuta asked his shirt back from you, and told you to look once he was dressed. You opened your eyes and nearly fainted, Yuta was already good looking with clothes on, but that little bit of exposed skin and the piercing altogether? He was hot, the type of hot that you didn’t know whether to cover your face or look a little while longer.

“What do you think?” he asked, still looking at his new jewel.

“It... it looks great, Yuta. Now pull your shirt back down, the weather isn’t warm anymore,” you said as you adjusted his shirt gently, careful to not touch or hurt him.

“My job here’s done, payment is done at the counter, unless your girl wants anything.”

“Okay, thanks but she has sensitive skin, so she can’t have any,” Yuta said as he guided you out of the room, a hand on your back, as you tried not to overthink about the fact that he once again, did not deny the man’s assumption.

“You remembered,” you said as Yuta paid at the counter.

“Of course, it is quite obvious, since you don’t have any on your ears as well,” Yuta said, gesturing at your ears.

“Yeah, it’s a bummer, but the clip on ones serve me well,” you said, a hand reaching up to touch them.

“They look really pretty on you,” Yuta said as he lifted a hand up to touch the accessory on your ear, smiling fondly.

“Let’s get out of here and have lunch,” Yuta said as he guided you out of the shop, his new habit of always having an arm over your shoulder or a hand behind your back making your mind spin.

27th of September, 2021.

“You cooked?” Yuta asked when he got back from a late night class, shutting the door behind him when he was reminded of your dislike of cold air coming into the house.

“Yeah, eat up,” you said as you pushed a plate to his direction as he sat down.

“The last time you cooked, you nearly burnt down the kitchen, and the beef was definitely burnt,” Yuta reminded you with a evil glint in his eyes.

“That was because of the napkins that fell on the stove, not my fault at all,” you said in defence, it wasn’t your fault he had changed the placing of the napkins.

“Uh huh,” Yuta looked at you questioningly, but still took a spoonful of the carbonara pasta you had made, his healing smile never leaving yours. You stopped eating, waiting for his reaction.

“Is it good?”

“It tastes good, I love the spam on the side as well,” Yuta said with his cheeks full, his fork gesturing at the luncheon meat in the middle of the table.

“How could I forget your favourite?” you said, satisfied that Yuta didn't have anything to complain about your cooking.

“Says the one who could eat if for three meals a day,” Yuta said with a quirk of his eyebrows, silently asking you if you still have anything left to defend yourself.

“Yah, you were the one who stocked up too much of it, and they were nearing their expiration dates,” you said, suddenly reminded of Yuta’s frenzy buying whenever there's a sale.

“Okay, you win this time, and thanks for dinner. It’s just what I needed after a long day,” Yuta lifts up his hands in surrender before thanking you.

“Glad you like it,” you said with a stupid smile on your face, gloating, it's not everyday you win Yuta in a banter.

You got back to your research for your internship when Yuta showered, brushing up an article that you were going to submit tomorrow. When you were done, you waited outside the living room, giving as much space to Yuta as possible. You were scrolling through social media when Yuta hollered from the bedroom.

“Can you help me apply the medicine? I’m too tired to do it today,” Yuta pleaded with his puppy eyes that he knew you can’t resist once you entered the room, as if he knew the power he has over you.

You sat on the bed and shakily applied the medicine onto his piercing, eyes fixated only on that patch of skin, not wanting to be caught by your heated cheeks or thumping heartbeat. Once you were done, you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Why are you so nervous?” Yuta asked as he leaned down onto the bed, stretching his legs.

“What? I’m not,” automatically defending yourself.

“Yes, you are. Your fingers kept shaking, you don’t have to worry about hurting me you know, it doesn’t hurt anymore, I just need to make sure it’s healing,” Yuta said, trying to sound as mindlessly as possible.

“Yeah, okay,” you quickly avoided the eyes that were staring at you, darting into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and climbed into bed, unsuccessfully avoiding Yuta, because after all, you’ll still end up wrapped up in his embrace as the two of you toss and turn in your sleep.

1st of October, 2021.

“It’s 5 a.m., Yuta. Why are we torturing ourselves this way?” you groaned when you were jolted awake by the alarm on Yuta’s phone, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Come on, you promised to watch the sunrise with me, get a move on. I can’t get up if you don’t,” Yuta said reminding you, that is, before you heard the teasing tone in his voice towards the end.

“What do you mean?” that’s when you realised, your whole body was draped across Yuta’s, your head resting beside his, on his pillow, no wonder his voice sounded so close. You immediately cleared your throat and got up from bed, rushing into the bathroom before he could see your ugly morning face, even though he’s probably seen it more times than he could count.

Yuta rolled onto your side of the pillow when you went in the bathroom, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo, a smile gracing his lips. Today, he decided, would be the day that he's going to confess his love for you, he’s quite sure that you feel the same way, always so shy and sweet around him, the thought of all the moments the two of you shared just makes him want to wrap you up in a blanket and hug you like a human burrito.

During the drive to the hill, you fell asleep on the passenger seat, you were still wearing that denim jacket under your thick fleece coat, you had offered to give it back to Yuta, but he has way too many jackets anyways, and sparing one just to see how adorable you look in it was definitely worth it.

When the sun started to rise, Yuta shook you awake like a child on Christmas day.

“Wake up, wake up, we’re here,” you heard him say before you felt the warmth of his palm, even through the many layers of cloth.

You shot your eyes open, immediately in awe of the beautiful blend of colours mixed in the sky, the fiery red blending into the orange like strokes of paint on a beautiful painting, along with dabs of pink here and there.

“It’s beautiful, Yuta,” you said in awe, your eyes lighting up at the beautiful view.

Yuta diverted his eyes from the view to you, memorizing your beautiful face that is lit up by the colours of the sky, your lips fixed in a little o and your doe eyes blinking from the sunlight that starts shining into the car.

“You’re beautiful. The sunrise is nothing compared to the beauty you withhold,” Yuta said without a trace of hesitancy.

You immediately whipped your head to look at Yuta instead of the sunrise, thinking you heard him wrongly.

“What?”

“I mean it, you’re beautiful, and I love you,” there it is, the three words that Yuta has been swallowing back for months, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

“Don’t tell me this is a six month late April fool’s or something,” you joked, but secretly, you hoped he was being honest, that this isn't a prank.

“Would I voluntarily sleep in the same bed as you even though I had enough money to buy ten single beds if I didn’t like you?” Yuta said directly, not knowing how to feel, did you not see him in that light?

“What about Luna?” you asked in a tone not louder than a whisper, but Yuta heard you loud and clear.

“She hasn't been in my mind for god knows how long, in fact, the only thing that I can't stop thinking about is us, how happy you make me, and I’d be the happiest man on this world if you’d be willing to be my girlfriend,” Yuta said as he takes your hand in his, sincerity in his eyes as he searched for yours, looking for clues to the answer he's hoping for.

You tucked Yuta’s hair back his ear when it fell on his face, taking in his sharp and beautiful features, smiling at him, acknowledging that you’re a lucky girl, to be able to capture Nakamoto Yuta’s heart.

“I love you too, Yuta,” you said before giving a light peck to Yuta’s soft lips, but when you start to pull away, Yuta pulled you closer by your waist, capturing your lips in his once again. It was just like he dreamt of, kissing you for the first time, under the sunrise.

31st of October, 2021.

“Get dressed,” Yuta said as he tossed you a bag, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What’s this?” you asked while rummaging through the contents of the bag, pulling out a platinum wig.

“Your costume, my friends are hosting a small party for Halloween, and I’d like you to be my date,” Yuta explained, awaiting your reaction.

“O-kay,” you said after a while, realising that he wasn’t joking, getting up from the couch to change, but Yuta stopped you by holding onto your arm.

“If you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to go,” Yuta said, concern written on his face, by your lack of reaction, he thought you'd be excited.

“No, I’m fine, I was just surprised, I’d love to meet your friends,” you said genuinely, you thought guys tend to take a longer time to introduce their girlfriends.

“Okay, I’ll change out here,” Yuta said, offering you privacy in your shared room.

You and Yuta haven’t seen each other bare, even after all this time, you realised as you made a beeline for the bedroom, you quickly shook those thoughts out of your head, quickly getting changed into the costume.

After you had the wig on, you still don’t really know who you’re supposed to be, until you went out to the living room and saw Yuta in his costume.

“Now I know who I’m supposed to be,” you said to Yuta as he shrugged on his giant red and navy blue diamond coat, the one that looks exactly like the one in the movie, so that’s why he dyed his hair blonde a few days ago.

“You didn’t remember how did Sophie look like?” Yuta said in mock offence.

“You got a shorter version of the dress, unlike the original one in the movie,” you explained.

“You know how clumsy you’d get if you wore the original dress, I found this at a thrift store like a month ago, just had to get it for you, and you can still wear it on a daily basis,” Yuta said, ever the practical one.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror near the door, looking at the details of the dress, and its Victorian collar, it is indeed pretty, as well as the material used for the dress, adjusting your wig one last time before you slipped on a coat, as well as your black flats.

Yuta stands beside you in the reflection, adjusting his own coat as you admired how much he resembles the character in the movie. You were about to open the door, but Yuta insists on taking a photo of both of you at the tight corridor, you smiled at how happy he is tonight.

Yuta even went as far as playing the infamous merry go round track from the movie, the instrumental music making the night feel even more special.

“Do you know why I decided to dress up as Howl?” Yuta asked when he stopped the car, arriving at the venue.

“Because you resemble his good looks?” you offered up, the resemblance is uncanny.

“Thank you, baby, but that’s not it,” Yuta said with a chuckle before he continues, “Do you remember the first time we watched Howl’s Moving Castle? You said that Howl was your childhood crush, so…I wanted to make your dreams come true this Halloween,” Yuta explained.

“You remembered?” you asked, shocked to find out that Yuta had remembered that off handed comment in the midst of your movie night.

“Of course, you were looking at him with those heart eyes that should’ve been just for me,” Yuta teased, pinching the tip of your nose lightly.

“That’s your fault for being in love with that wicked witch of the west,” you said, mentioning Luna, as well as making a pun out of the original movie.

“Wow, my baby bites back,” Yuta was shocked, but he welcomed the slight change of attitude, Luna hadn’t been a good friend to you, knowing that she wasn't is good for you, he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of your kindness ever again, “I’m surprised. Now come on, I want to show you off to my friends.”

Just like Yuta promised, it was just a small party which only consisted of his friends and their girlfriends, they were all very friendly, and expressed how eager they were to meet you. The girls were gushing over how sweet it was for Yuta to pick out your costumes, and gave their respective boyfriends the side eye for not making the same efforts.

You’re glad that Yuta had brought you along today, you made new friends, which was something you hadn’t done ever since Luna declared herself as your best friend back then, it felt like a fresh start of friendship to you, now that you could have someone to talk to, other than Yuta, but of course, he’d always be the first person you share your woes with, he’s always been an understanding friend, and now, boyfriend. Sometimes you can’t believe how lucky you are, to end up with someone as special as Yuta.

When the two of you got back, it was already midnight, the two of you still in your costumes, though you had taken off the wig, looking at each other on the couch like two idiots. Still giddy over the matching and sentimental costumes. You climbed into Yuta’s lap, fingers gently tracing the outline of his lips, kissing him with a burning red passion in your heart.

Yuta kissed you back, arms encircled your waist as he pulls you closer, not wanting any space between the two of you. You wound your legs around his waist, silently telling him to move it to the bed. Yuta obliged, hands holding onto your thighs as he makes his way to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss, making you smile into it.

“What’s so funny? I thought we were having a serious make out session,” Yuta said, but he wasn’t mad at all, in fact, he had a smile as wide as yours as he placed you down gently on the bed.

“Just admiring how strong my boyfriend is,” you said, ever the one to shower him in compliments.

“You bet, the amount of laundry you have,” Yuta nagged, shaking his head.

You shrugged off his big heavy coat, tossing it onto the other side of the bed, pulling him in bed next to you, attaching your lips back to his.

You guided Yuta’s hand on your exposed thigh, planning to take your relationship to the next chapter, no more cold showers for Yuta tonight. Yuta broke away from the kiss once he felt your smooth skin.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to rush you into anything, and I think this will be your first time, am I right?” Yuta asked, he didn't really have a doubt on it, but he wants a confirmation, to get it clear in his head that he can’t fuck up your first.

“I know you'll be my first, and I’m sure I want this, Yuta, I love you,” you reassured him.

“I love you too, but tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

You nodded before kissing Yuta’s neck, looking for his weak spot. Although you never had any experience, you’ve read much about it on the internet, silently thanking for the amount time you lingered on fanfiction. When you heard Yuta’s breath staggering at a certain spot, you began sucking on it, pulling away to admire the mark you left on his skin.

Yuta took the chance to do the same to you, pink and purple blotches blooming like flowers in his wake as his hand descends higher, playing with the waistband of your lacy panties, you’re glad that you wore a matching set today.

“Can I take your dress off?”

“Can we take off our clothes together?” you asked, you weren't exactly comfortable being the only one naked.

“Of course, baby,” Yuta said as he stands up from the bed, unbuttoning his white blouse and taking off his black pants, leaving him only in his boxers, all the while with your hands over your eyes, just like the day at the tattoo parlour.

“Yah, I’m your boyfriend now, for real this time. You can look at what’s yours, you know?” Yuta pulls your hands down slowly, your eyes wide, taking in his perfect body under the glow of the fairy lights hanging on the bedpost.

“Do I live up to your expectations?” Yuta asked, he's a confident man, but he still needs his ego fed, your classic Scorpio.

“Definitely, everything I've ever imagined,” you said, fingers lightly grazing the skin of his chiselled abs.

“I'm sure you’re even better than my imagination, baby,” Yuta said before lightly pecking your lips, leave you craving for more, “your legs are beautiful, and it’d be great if I could see more, but only if you want to continue,” Yuta said as he played with the hem of your dress, lust in his eyes.

You nodded, slipping the dress off your body to reveal a pastel yellow laced set, Yuta’s favourite colour.

“Baby, you look so beautiful, and that colour, it matches your skin so well, my favourite colour on my favourite person. Did you plan this?” Yuta asked, eyes wide in realisation, lips slightly crooked to the left, waiting to hear your answer.

“I was hoping,” you mumbled, shy from the fact that you just admitted that you had plans to do this tonight.

“You naughty girl, baby, but I really love the gesture, baby, thank you,” Yuta said calmly, but he was definitely losing it in his head.

“I’m glad you like it, though, I’m not as striking as Luna, for this department,” you said with a sad pout on your lips as you gestured around your breasts.

“Nonsense, she’s nothing compared to you,” Yuta said as he placed a quick kiss at the valley of your breasts, hands going to the back of your clasp, awaiting for your approval.

“You can take it off, Yuta,” but Yuta struggled with the clasp, so you reached back to unclasp it yourself, gracing Yuta with your bare breasts, his eyes fixated on the way they bounced as they were freed. You placed Yuta’s hands on your breasts, shuddering at how cold they were. Yuta immediately noticed, blowing air onto his palms to warm them up before touching you again.

Yuta rolled your nipples in between the pads of his fingers, eyes darting up to observe your face to check for any discomfort. Pleased when he heard a moan coming from you, he decided to take one into his mouth, sucking and leaving gentle bites on your nipple as his other hand travels down to touch your clothed heat, smiling when he felt how wet you are for him.

Your body arched into Yuta’s skilled touch as you tangled your fingers through Yuta’s hair, pushing his head down slightly to pick up the pace. When Yuta understood your silent pleading, he moved down, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach before taking off your panties, revealing the most sacred part of you to him.

Yuta gave himself five seconds to look, before diving into you, lapping up your juices, tongue dipping into your warm walls to taste more of that sweet nectar, a hand on your butt, groaning at the feeling of how full his hands feel with your flesh. Your thighs close around Yuta’s head in reaction to him slipping a finger into you, a cry of his name fell from your lips when he slipped in another finger, he started sucking on your engorged clit experimentally, trying to determine what you like, and the results were more than positive. Yuta opened his eyes to take in how you look, addicted to how you react to every touch, it’s your first time feeling this way so intensely, he just has to engrave this into his memory.

You could feel your high coming as the coil in your abdomen starts to tighten, you tried to push him away, embarrassed at the fact that he’d be tasting your release, but Yuta is a man on a mission, he pulls you closer, slipping in a third finger and curling all of them upwards, making you fall apart with a scream of his name as you feel electric shocks course through your body, letting Yuta ride out your high by thrusting his tongue into you slowly, satisfied that he finally had his fill. When he was done, he came back up with his chin dripping with your juices.

“I didn’t want to dirty your face,” you said as you try to wipe away the juices on his chin.

“You’re not dirty, I wanted to taste you so badly. How do you feel?” Yuta asked, hoping that you had enjoyed receiving the pleasure as much as he enjoyed giving it to you.

“Absolutely out of this world, I could’ve never felt that way on my own, thank you,” you complimented him sheepishly, your cheeks heating up.

“Don’t thank me yet, there’s more to what I had just given you,” Yuta said with a playful wink thrown your way.

“Show me,” you said, your hand cupping Yuta’s length over his boxers, surprised at how big he felt.

Yuta gently removed your hand and stood up, stripping off his boxers. He was definitely bigger than what you had expected, and way more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in porn, you observe as your eyes take in his cock, his pretty red tip leaking tiny pearls of precum, standing tall against his defined abs, a sight to behold. You scooted to the edge of the bed, touching his cock, gently tracing the veins littered on the surface, before swiping your thumb over his tip, pumping his cock in your hand as you watched his reactions intently.

“How am I doing?”

“Good, too good. What do you watch in your free time, huh?” Yuta teased as he strokes your head when you take him in your mouth, sucking his dick like a lollipop, hollowing your cheeks, tasting the saltiness of his arousal on your tongue. When you were about to take his length deeper, Yuta pulled away.

“Next time, baby. I want you to be the focus tonight,” Yuta said with an assuring smile on his face, he is serious about what's going to happen, but he for sure, wants you to be in an easy going atmosphere, for you to just lay back to enjoy, and let him do all the work.

You nodded, laying down on the bed. Yuta climbed into bed and kissed you, tasting himself as he moved you higher, letting your head rest comfortably on your pillow.

“We can still stop if you want to, baby,” Yuta reminded you.

“I want this Yuta, I want my first time to be with you,” you reassured him once more.

“Okay,” Yuta said as he leaned back, biting his bottom lip as he slowly spreads your legs open, wrapping your legs around his waist, he gave your lips one last kiss of assurance before he positioned himself pushing in the tip, finally stretching you open as you whimpered his name. Yuta cradled your face in his hands as he pushed in further, whispering words of encouragement to you. You could feel Yuta filling you up like no toy had ever before, touching places that you didn’t know existed inside you, the stretch was quiet painful, but you held on, knowing that it’ll feel better soon. You didn’t know you had tears in your eyes until Yuta wiped them away with his thumb, asking you if you’d wish to continue. You nodded, and soon he stopped moving, finally bottoming out inside you.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m in. Tell me when you want to move, okay?” Yuta told you, his tone calming, not knowing what mindset you're in as of now.

Slowly, the pain faded away, slowly turning into pleasure, making you crave for more. You reached up and kissed Yuta who was touching your breasts, trying to distract you from the pain of the stretch.

“You can move now, Yuta.”

“You’re sure? I'll move only if you don’t feel any pain,” Yuta said, his voice firm, he doesn’t want to continue if you don't feel good.

“I’m sure, it doesn’t hurt anymore,” you said before Yuta nodded, silently registering your words.

Yuta moved out slowly before thrusting back in, making the two of you gasp at the sudden pleasure, the way he dragged out slowly allows you to feel every inch of his cock, making you dizzy from the pleasure clouding your mind, he continued with the slow pace he set, his hands holding yours as he buckled in deeper, moans of his name falling from your lips at the sudden shock of heightened pleasure, you enjoy the pace now, but you craved for more as you get addicted to the feeling.

“Faster, Yuta,” you begged breathlessly.

Yuta obliged, spreading your legs open to angle your hips higher, thrusting into you faster and harder, a scream of his name ripped from your lungs as you dug your fingers into Yuta’s arm, the sole anchor you had to reality as the pleasure fogs your mind, only Yuta on your mind. Your body arched into Yuta’s as his tip hits a particular spot inside you, making your toes curl.

Pride fills Yuta at your reaction, increasing the pace of his thrusts, making your kneels buckle from the foreign feeling of overwhelming pleasure. Yuta could feel your walls tighten around him, his breath staggering as his strokes start to get sloppy, the feeling of the familiar wave of his orgasm coming.

Yuta reached down to rub circles on your clit, your body writhing in pleasure as you came around him, the coil in your abdomen snapping as you unravelled around Yuta, pushing him over the edge from your constricting walls, a melodic moan of your name falling from his lips as he rides out both your highs, the feeling of both of your warm juices mixing together, fogging your minds in a euphoric haze.

When you felt Yuta’s warm spurts come to an end, he gently pulled out of you and gave you a loving kiss, before walking into the bathroom to retrieve a towel to clean up the mess, making you hiss when you felt the rough surface of the cloth on your sensitive lower parts.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’ll buy a softer towel tomorrow,” Yuta apologised before tossing the towel away, using the Kleenex on the nightstand instead, making sure the mess he made was gone before he tucked you under the blankets, cuddling next to you once he made sure you drank a glass of water, mumbling something about dehydration.

“Goodnight, baby, and thank you for letting me be your first.”

You hummed back a goodnight and slipped into slumber, Yuta smiling at how adorable you look, giving you a kiss on your nose before falling asleep in your warm embrace.

1st of November, 2021.

Yuta woke up to the smell of coffee, and your beautiful bare back facing him, sipping on your own cup of caffeine, looking out at the window behind your bed. Yuta took the cup in his hand, taking a sip at the energizing drink before joining you.

“What are you looking at?” Yuta asked, looking at the same view that he finds, a bore now.

“The leaves are turning orange now, I had always loved the autumn view,” you said as you stared at the park nearby.

You find the simple things beautiful, it’s your heart that's beautiful, Yuta wanted to tell you, but he didn’t, he didn't want to ruin the peaceful morning with your constant denial of his compliments.

“It is,” Yuta said as he kissed your cheek, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer to let you lean back onto him.

Yuta reached under the pillow and pulled out a velvet box, handing it to you.

“I was supposed to give this to you last night, for our one month anniversary, but I got a little distracted from your seductiveness,” Yuta said, teasing you about last night.

“Oh really? My seductiveness?” you whipped your head back to look at him with disbelief.

“Even stronger than any black magic known to mankind, come on, open it,” Yuta said, you shake your head at his cheesiness.

You pried open the box, revealing a silver necklace with one sole charm, the Japanese as well as Chinese character, 愛 .

“Love,” you muttered to yourself as you touched the word.

“愛 , it’s my new favourite word now, after I fell in love with you,” Yuta confessed, he's been wanting to tell you this for so long now.

You teared up at the meaning behind the necklace, putting it down on the bed before you enveloped Yuta in your embrace, saying thank you over and over again.

“You’re welcome, baby. I’m so glad you love it,” Yuta said as he steadied you on his lap.

“Of course I do, I love everything that you give me, Yuta,” you said without a doubt.

“How about my last name?” Yuta asked, not really joking.

“Don’t push it, Yuta… I’ll think about it in a few years,” you mused him, even though it was all too obvious.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Yuta reached for the necklace and clasped it at the back of your neck, the charm falling perfectly on your clavicle.

Your moment was however ruined by your front door swinging open, Yuta immediately covered you up with the thick blanket before slipping on a pair of sweats and a shirt, going out of the bedroom and closing the door.

“What are you doing here, Luna?” you heard him ask in a cold tone, as you listened by the door.

“Coming back to retrieve a file I left here, and is that sex hair I see? Can’t believe you’re fucking that prude,” you heard her snap back, it's not like she could find anything else to insult.

“Don’t you dare say that about my girlfriend. Get your stuff and leave now, and give me back the keys, you don’t belong here anymore.”

You heard Luna’s shrill laugh, before a clang of keys rang out against the counter, shuffling could be heard, before a slam of the front door.

You climbed back in bed, Yuta coming back in soon after.

“I’m so sorry about her, baby, I made such a mess,” Yuta said as he flopped on the bed, a shadow on his face.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Who would’ve guessed she’d turn up to be someone like that? Don’t let her ruin our day, okay? How about we have a shower and have breakfast at coffee bean or something?” you suggested, trying to cheer Yuta up as you smoothed out the crease lines on his face.

“Shower together?” he asked, an excited look on his face.

“Just no funny business,” you warned, you tried to rearrange your expression to be serious, but you can't help but smile.

“Only serious business,” Yuta said with a laugh, carrying you into the shower.

Looks like the two of you were getting brunch instead of breakfast.

1st June, 2025.

You look around the packed boxes and the bare apartment, a sense of nostalgia settling in, fragments of the good and bad memories washing over you like age old wine.

“So this is it, huh?” Yuta asked as he packed up the last box, waiting for the movers to come.

“I guess.”

“At least our new condo’s bigger, you could finally have a library and a walk in closet. The view of the park there is beautiful as well, and we could shop easier there,” Yuta said, recalling that the city center was only two stops away by tube.

The new place you were moving in was at Seoul, both Yuta and you are starting jobs there, the internships proved worthy in the long run, scoring the two of you decent pay checks to own a place of your own.

“There goes the chapter of our college life,” you said wistfully, thinking back the days when you thought it’d never end.

“Thank you for making it memorable for me, love,” Yuta said as he fiddled the charm of the necklace he had given to you years ago.

“I love you, Yuta.”

“I love you too, baby. Let’s get going, the movers are here, we have to settle in quickly before my family visits remember?” Yuta reminded you.

You groaned at the thought of unpacking, but you know Yuta’s going to be there to help you and cheer you up when you’re tired. You did one last sweep of the room, looking forward to the new chapter of life you’re going to step into with no other than Nakamoto Yuta.

#nct fluff #yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct imagines #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct #nct 127 #yuta angst #nct angst #yuta nakamoto #nct x reader #nct smut

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calaofnoldor · 4 years

Text

Drug of Choice

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 3,790

Summary: A night of drunken rambling leads to an unexpected change in your relationship status.

Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, feelings of inadequacy, very slight allusions of alcoholism/talk of drug addiction, reader likes the sound of their voice a bit too much when drunk, fluff, implied smut

A/N: written for @deanwanddamons 1st blogiversary and 2k follower celebration challenge! my prompt was “I wish I knew how to quit you“ which is bolded in the fic. congrats on the incredible milestone, sorry this is late! also for @spnfluffbingo and it fills the mood board square for @girl-next-door-writes‘ Make Me Feel Bingo challenge!

Square Filled: Kissed to Keep Quiet

MASTERLIST

It was four in the morning when Dean finally came home, and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat before you atop the library table was over a quarter of the way through.

The heavy thud of his boots against the bunker floor drew your dark-adjusted eyes toward his shadowy figure, while the alcohol in your bloodstream loosened your lips, "How was she?"

"Jesus- Fuck!" There was a slight commotion before the lights flickered on, forcing your eyes to shut against the onslaught of sudden brightness. "Y/N??” Dean’s gruff, alarmed voice shattered the previously eerie silence, “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark by yourself?"

Your eyelids lifted an experimental sliver but you kept your gaze directed down at the glass of whiskey in your hands. "It wasn't dark when I started."

Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed the slur behind your words. "Started what? Are you drunk?"

His second question prompted a dismissive snort from you, "Hunters can't get drunk; you should know that by now, Dean."

"Yeah alright, we need to get you to bed." The man of your dreams began to make his way over to you until your gravelly words ceased his steps.

"I can't sleep... you haven't answered my question yet."

"What question?"

"How was she?"

"Who?"

You looked at him like he was crazy, "You know, the girl from the bar, the one with the curly hair… the one that was climbing onto your lap when I left?"

"I don't- there was no girl," Dean stumbled. His lips were parted and his eyebrows pulled together in an ever-gorgeous expression of bewilderment, but you were too busy examining the way the newfound light danced along the lustrous amber liquid between your fingers to notice.

"Oh," you grumbled in response, sounding a bit disappointed, which only served to deepen those adorable lines of confusion between Dean’s brows. "She sure was pretty though.” There was a pause as you pondered his declaration before blurting out in disbelief, “You really didn't fuck her in the back of Baby?"

"What- No! Y/N, there was never a girl and nothing happened, OK?" He sounded genuinely serious, so you conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"Why- why are you sorry?"

"I know you needed to blow off some steam after today, after I pissed you off by fucking up the hunt." You ventured a glance up at him through your lashes and the unadulterated pain in your eyes almost had Dean reeling back in surprise.

"What are you talking about? You didn't 'fuck up' the hunt," he argued, shaking his head as if to accentuate his point.

"Course I did. I got you hurt and I nearly let that dickbag get away."

A weighted sigh escaped Dean, "Y/N, you have to know that wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing for me. Besides, I wasn’t pissed off, I was... I was scared, OK?”

You were about to take another sip of your drug of the night when you lowered your glass to let the irrepressible giggle leave your system, “Scared? Since when does the big bad Dean Winchester get scared? And if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be talking about it out loud. Are you sure you’re not the one who’s been drinking?”

“I mean, I have been drinking but that’s beside the point. Look, Y/N, why don’t we talk about this tomorrow, alright? You’ve just gotta sleep this off.”

"Pft. This isn't something I can just sleep off. Trust me, I've tried." There was a tickle in your throat that alerted you of the oncoming word vomit, but your friend Mr. Daniels seemed to be gaining complete control of your tongue; it was all he was ever good for really, “I’ve also tried drinking it away, but clearly that doesn’t work either. There’s just- so much- of it, of you… and now, now you’re in me-“ Dean’s eyes went wide but you were no longer at liberty to stop, “and I can’t get you out. Sometimes I don’t even think I want to. But I don’t think I can keep going like this any longer either… all this waiting, and wondering, and watching.” Some fragment of sobriety within you recognized how ridiculous and melodramatic you sounded and it gave you enough sense to avoid eye contact with the subject of you’re alcohol-induced speech, as if that could help you elude further embarrassment.

“OK, you’ve gotta slow down, Y/N/N. What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, Dean had moved to take the seat across from you, subtly sliding the bottle of Jack out of your reach as he sat down.

A mirthless laugh was your reply, "Of course you don’t know. Why would you?“

“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I? Y/N, what’s going on?”

But you ignored his questions and answered with one of your own, “Why am I never enough? You know what, don't answer that; that was a rhetor- rhetor…”

“Rhetorical?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, flailing your index finger in his direction, “Yes, that’s the word. See, even your brain is too good for me.”

“What- why would you say that? Y/N, you know that’s not true. And why do you think you’re never enough? You’re plenty enough.” Concern now painted Dean’s features. He hated seeing you this way, broken and depressed, trying to drown your feelings in whiskey; he’d figured that was his trademark amongst the bunker residents. And he couldn’t understand how someone as incredible as you would think themselves unworthy of anything. Whichever son of a bitch made you feel this way would pay, Dean swore it.

“Then how come you never pick me?” you countered simply, deciding it was finally time to call out his hypocrisy.

The accusation floored Dean. He scooted back in his seat as he stared at you with a slack jaw, utter perplexity swirling within his emerald eyes. Over the years, Dean had garnered an inkling that you felt some kinda way about him, but he never really let himself believe, and not once did he think he could be hurting you. On the contrary, he always figured it was his own hopeful heart playing tricks on him. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure he was hearing you correctly, or that your drunken state could be trusted, though he remembered you once told him that you were always the most honest version of yourself when you drank, whiskey in particular.

“I watch you go out with waitress after bartender after waitress, but I’ve been here the whole time, and you never consider me. It’s like I don’t even exist, like I’m not even an option, like I could never even help you scratch that itch, at least not as good as any barfly across the Midwest could.” You were aware that this was getting out of hand, but you couldn’t seem to find the brakes. “But that’s not even the real problem – I mean, sure, a roll around the hay with you would probably be mind-blowing as fuck – but it would never solve the root of it, never be enough for me.”

Dean had been studying you meticulously as you spoke, your words starting a fire to the embers of his soul, breathing life into a long-forgotten hope that brought him both joy and fear. “What would? Be enough for you, I mean?” His tone took on a raw sultriness that matched the intense, borderline predatory glaze of his eyes. Needless to say, Dean hadn’t expected your sardonic laughter to fill the air, and your sudden frenzied, carefree state certainly took him off guard.

“Nothing!” you laughed, “I don’t think anything will ever be enough for me! C-cause you’re like this drug that I’m hooked on and it’s just so fucking hard to get off… I mean, it’s also hard to get off without you now, or thoughts of you anyway...” Your tangent was quickly overcome when you remembered the topic of your initial spiel, “But it’s like everything about you draws me in! From the way you reference classic literature even though I’ve never seen you pick up a book that’s not about lore, to the way you rebuild Baby from scratch like it’s no big deal, to the way you’re so good with kids even though you never got to be one yourself, to the dumb way you bottle up all your feelings and never let them see the light of day yet still manage to do so much good in the world, t-to the way you get excited over classic rock and crappy horror movies and pie, and don’t even get me started on the way you love Sam! I mean, it’s just all of it! It’s your strength and perseverance through literal hell, it’s your huge fucking heart despite the mask of swagger and charm, it’s that stupid grin you get when you make a dumb joke and Sam rolls his eyes at you, it’s just those god damn lips in general! And then you walk around looking like that!?” you gestured wildly at all of him, “I mean, who gave you the right?!”

Dean looked like he was about to respond, but you cut him off. There really was no stopping your tirade now, “I’m like an addict who can never get enough, and when you leave, I get feelings of withdrawal, and I don’t know how to fucking deal with those either… You’re so deeply ingrained in me; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to flush you out of my system. And I just-“ you took a rare pause to heave a large breath before admitting quietly, “I wish I knew how to quit you. I really do, because as much as I love you, and trust me, it’s a whole fucking lot – God, does it feel good to finally say that out loud – but for every ounce of love that I have for you, for every bit of you that I’ve inhaled, it hurts just as much. Because you don’t feel the same, and you never will, and I don’t blame you, because you’re Dean fucking Winchester and you could have whoever you want with just a wink and half a smile, and you deserve to have whoever you want-”

“Are you done?” Dean was quick to latch onto the brief respite in your monologue, “Fuck, Y/N, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you are to me?” His head shook in disbelief while his troubled green eyes searched yours.

“What I am to you? I’m your hunting buddy, Dean. The one you call when you need an extra hand with a vamp nest or an extra set of eyes to scour the books, the one who stays up with you when you have nightmares about the souls you tortured in hell, the one you sing rock songs out of tune in the car with, just never the one you go to for a booty call,” you finished with a bitter laugh.

Dean’s head had never ceased it’s shaking, even as he got up and walked around the table towards you. “Only because you’re worth so much more than that. Y/N, you deserve so much more than me.”

It was your turn to shake your head. How typical, you thought as you rolled your eyes and stood up to meet his eye line, “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dean. I know you’re trying to let me down easy and that’s nice of you and all, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well, Dean Winchester, and I know there’s no way in hell that- Mmf!“ The rest of your words were intercepted by Dean’s lips on yours.

The feeling was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. There was an urgent force behind the kiss as he pushed his mouth against yours with gentle yet firm ferocity, bracing your head with large hands cupping both sides. It felt as if he was desperately trying to convey a message to you, to disprove your woeful words of self-pity, or perhaps he just wanted you to shut up. You, of course, responded with tremendous enthusiasm regardless of his intent, grasping blindly at his forearms while slotting your tongue and lips around his in an increasingly frantic manner. You didn’t care if the kiss wasn’t good for him; this might be your only chance to take what you need from Dean Winchester, if only a tiny fraction of it.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting for air. Dean still held your head in both hands as he leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have done that; you’re drunk... Do you at least believe me now?”

A slight grimace contorted Dean’s features as his mind was suddenly bombarded by a multitude of conflicted thoughts and feelings, feelings of desire and regret and bliss and unease, but when he caught the dazed look in your eyes, Dean made up his mind, “Ah, what the hell, you’re probably not gonna remember much of this anyway. Look, Y/N, you’re wrong. I do feel the same way about you; I have pretty much ever since I saw that magnificent ass of yours.” Pausing to chuckle at his own words, Dean licked his lips, still able to taste the whiskey from yours.

“The only reason I fucked around with those other people was because I couldn’t stand not being able to have you,” he continued through closed eyes and gritted teeth before filling his chest with a deep breath, “Like today, when I saw that fucking werewolf come at you, I nearly lost it. The thought of anything happening to you scares me shitless, and I didn’t know how to process that feeling, so I let that girl at the bar get close. I was trying to fill the hole you created but it was pointless cause in the end, just like every other time, I couldn’t go through with it. Every time I try to forget about you, your face shows up in my head,” he growled in that low, throaty tone that always seemed to reverberate down to your nether regions.

“But I- I wasn’t lying when I said you deserve more than me. Y/N, you know me. I’m a broken, twisted, shell of a man. I’m-“

“Poison, I know,” you finally lifted your head away from his so that you could look directly into his dazzling eyes. Dean’s hands slid down along your neck and landed on your shoulders while yours remained on his forearms, not willing to lose all contact. “I know what you’re gonna say. You think you’re poison, that being with you puts a target on my back, that loving you is a death sentence… Did I get that right?”

Dean gave you a miniscule nod and a look of resignation as he reluctantly released you from his hold, forcing you to let go as well when he took a large step back. You suddenly felt extremely sober, the effects of the alcohol and that kiss all wearing off instantaneously, “And you hate yourself. No one hates you more than you, Dean.” Your voice was hardly a whisper now, “But that’s OK, cause I hate myself too, for never being able to make you realize that you are so much more than you give yourself credit for, that you deserve all the things you think you can’t have, that you can have them all and still be Dean Winchester.”

You watched as Dean’s eyes began to water and when a single tear rolled down his cheek, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Approaching him as slowly as you would a nervous animal out of its natural habitat, you stopped directly before him before cautiously raising your arm to wipe the offending tear away with your thumb. Your eyes seemed to be locked in a silent exchange of colossal magnitude, expressing everything mere words could not, from harrowing regret to agonizing self-inflicted torment to desperate desire. It was the yearning in his shimmering eyes that gave you the courage to speak your next words, a runaway tear of your own joining the whispered plea, “Please, let me show you.”

When your eyes fluttered open the next day, they were greeted with the most beautiful sight you'd ever awoken to. Dean’s face was barely a foot away from yours, and the man himself was already awake, staring directly at you. He was lying on his back with his head turned towards you, while your body was twisted to face his. A bedside lamp was on, allowing you to marvel at the breathtaking perfection in front of you, and despite the booze having long since evacuated from your veins, your mouth still imparted the first thing that came to your mind, “You know, I've always wanted to count your freckles,” you murmured honestly, “Maybe map them out like tiny constellations so I can memorize them better, so that one day I could trace them even with my eyes closed.” Your fingertips moved of their own accord as you spoke, gliding softly over his cheeks and across the ridge of his perfect nose.

Dean caught your hand in his and kissed it repeatedly as his magical olive eyes continued to bore into yours, never once leaving your face. His pouty lips curved into the slightest smile as if he were afraid to rear hope yet couldn't fight the peaceful thrill you were bringing him by simply lying next to him. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“Not unless it counts to be drunk on you… Sorry, that sounded a lot less cheesy in my head.” You cringed but Dean’s smile broadened.

“And no hangover?”

“No, I told you, hunters can’t-“

“Get drunk. Yeah, I heard. So does that mean you remember everything?”

“I don’t think I could forget that kiss if I wanted to; my brain wouldn’t let me.” You glanced down at his gorgeous mouth before meeting his gaze again, “I meant it all, you know? Everything I said was the truth. Every word.” You moved your thumb to graze his lower lip and he puckered his lips to kiss it.

“So did I, every word… Especially the part about that sweet ass of yours.” The hand that wasn’t holding yours roamed down to grab at your butt cheek with a hefty yet tender squeeze, causing you to squeal in delight. When you settled down, he moved your hand to place it above his heart, “You know I’m no good at chick flick moments, but you can trust me when I say I’m addicted to you too.”

The sincerity in his voice sent butterflies through your stomach and your smile felt invincible. “I hope you know that when I called you a ‘drug’ I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. Some drugs are good for you. Some drugs can save your life,” you whispered as you fisted lightly at the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I wouldn’t go that far, sweetheart.”

“Isn’t that what you did yesterday?” Dean was about to retort but you sent him a raised brow and a look that said ‘don’t test me, I’ve got loads more evidence where that came from’ so he simply looked down with a small grin. “Does it still hurt?” You motioned to the white bandage on his shoulder where the werewolf had scratched him up yesterday when he jumped in front of you.

Dean shook his head, “Right now I can hardly feel it. Actually, it hasn’t hurt at all since I kissed you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted some more at his words. “See, that’s what I mean. To me, you’re like coffee on an early morning, morphine when I’m hurting, tranquilizers when I’m freaking out, Zoloft when the world’s got me down, mixed with a shot of ecstasy, and quite possibly the most potent form of Viagra known to mankind.” You might have lingered a moment to chuckle at your own joke, thinking ‘it’s funny cause it’s true’. Dean belted a guffaw himself and you were quite pleased as you continued, “You’re everything I’ve ever needed, all wrapped up in one beautiful, self-loathing man.” You stroked his stubbled jaw and caressed his cheek, letting your words waft softly across the distance between you, hoping he could sense the veracity within them, “And I just want you to let me love you, let me get high on you, so I can show you how good you are. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A wave a sadness flowed through Dean and he lowered his gaze from yours. “This could end bloody.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But it’s so much better than the alternative... It was getting a bit too hard to bear, even if you were only eye fucking all those other suitors. Besides, if it means I get to kiss you whenever I want, it’ll be worth it. And if it means I get a chance to prove to you how worthy you are, then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“I was only staying away because I wanted to protect you from me, but I didn’t realize it was hurting you. I never wanted to cause you pain; Y/N, I need you to know that.” Dean’s warm, calloused palm ran up your arm, it’s gentleness in stark contrast to his fierce tone, while yours continued to cup his cheek.

Astounded by the passion behind his words and the utter beauty of his face, you whispered in awe, “How are you so perfect?” Seeing the cogs begin to turn in his brain, you quickly moved your index finger to press against his plush lips, “Shh, just let me say it. Baby steps, Dean.”

He took your finger and guided your arm to wrap around his wide shoulders, careful of his injury, then reached out to pull you snugly towards him until your bodies were completely flush, your chest heaving against his. “Well do we have to take baby steps with everything? Cause now that I’ve finally got you in my bed, I was kinda hoping you’d let me take you for a spin in it. Maybe find out if it’s really – how did you put it again? – ‘mind blowing as fuck’ I believe were your words?” That signature smirk of his that always brought you to your knees came out to play.

Your laughter fanned across his face, and the smile on your face was effervescent, “You really are one hell of a drug, Dean Winchester.”

thank you for reading! as always, feedback is marvelously appreciated!

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queenoftheworldisdead · 4 years

Text

Home coming 4

Summery: Slow burn. You are forced to move back to your home town due to the pandemic. When your high school tormentors return to remind you why you never wanted to come back. This gets darker as it goes. I’m not a good writer folks sorry.

Warning: forced oral.

Dark Steve x Black Reader, Cop AU

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

You watched antsy as the text bubble animated then disappeared. The pause between Steve's text was strangely long. Making you wonder what could have stopped the normally persistent Steve. Not willing to wait in the car any longer you headed inside.

When you unlock the door of course Uncle Nick was on the couch very much annoyed. "You need to ask if your gonna borrow my truck."

"Sorry I went to the bank" it was a lie, but you knew he would never bug you about something like that.

"What happened to your face?" He shot up rushing over, fuming. "It was that fucking Steve wasn't it!" He examined your face, you pulled away when he tried to cup it.

Shit

You forgot to cover your face backup. "Unc... it wasn't Steve. I fell, tripped on something getting out of the truck. Damn thing is so high up off the ground."

By the look in his eye he wasn't buying it. You moved and pushed past him, you could her him cursing under his breath.

When you got to your old room you close the door. Leaning against it you took a deep breath.

*Buzz Buzz

Ripping the strap from your arms you throw it across the room. Your hearts pace quickened, the thought of that squad car from earlier containing Steve. What he might do if he knew what you were planning.

Pushing off the door you run to your closet. Tossing things around, looking through unopened boxes for your duffel. Your hands tremble as you search. When you hear the faint buzz again and curse.

You had to go to it. Turning around you stare at the purse again. Swallowing thickly as you approached it.

Unzipping the bag, you dip your hand inside, pulling it out. The screen lit up with his name.

MSG Steve: Come outside

Your heart felt like a hammer. The short text not giving any hint to what you would be walking into if you walked out that door. Texting him back you tell him to give you a minute.

Had he seen you?

Blinking away tears you try and collect yourself.

You wanted to avoid another confrontation from your Uncle so you decided to go out the back. Slipping out the room you close the door quietly. Walking with bare feet and shoes in hand gingerly on the old floor.

You peer past the archway to see him laser focused on the screen. Still on tip toes you walk into the kitchen and through the back door.

The yard was over grown, Nick's old car rusting and in pieces in the back. You put your shoes on and walked around the house.

When you saw the cop car your mind reeled. Was he going to arrest you for steeling? He knew you stole those tools. It was him.

Through the squad car window's the tent was so thick that Steve's features were barely eliminated by his cell phone. You wanted to run back to the house, board up the doors and hide, but you knew you couldn't.

Each step you took toward the car seemed heavier and heavier like a weight was drawing you down. When you finally approached it he looked away from his phone and up at you with a smirk.

He opened his door and towered over you. "Sorry have to go to work later, so I hope you like a man in uniform" he joked. His eyes burned on you. Twitching a bit when he finally noticed the damage.

Lacing his fingers with yours he said nothing as he led you to the other side of the squad car. He boxed around you on the car when you reached the passenger door giving you another once over. The last time he saw you like this you had fucked up and trusted the wrong person. He sucked in air before letting out a long sigh. You flinched when he lowered his hand down and opened the door. Still silent he watched you slid inside.

Your stomach sat in knots while he drove you. He kept his hands on the wheel. The controls and laptop on the dash made the cop car feel like an alien space ship to you. He kept his work radio low, the back and forth chit chat filling the quiet spaces.

Steve's presence was so overbearing even with him not touching you. You couldn't remember a time being in a car alone with him like this and he hadn't tried touching you in one way or another.

*Ring Ring

Steve shifted in his seat, pulling out his phone. Splitting his attention between the road and the screen. He didn’t answer it. You glanced over quickly to see him silence the phone and tuck it away.

Your head tilted toward the window as the trip trekked on. The scenery slowly changing as you passed. The little town of Yielding looked like it was just waking up. The traffic just starting to get busy.

"It's just me and you today." When he spoke it was even. Still no hint of what his mood could be.

When he turned to go the opposite way from the direction of his house, you got more worried.

"Um... Steve where are we going?" You somehow found the courage to ask just above a whisper. Your nails picking at the seat as you waited for a reply.

"It's a surprise" he said coolly.

It wasn't until he turned down a residential street that you realized where you were. The row of houses flooding you with memories. He had taken you to his parents house.

Slowing to a crawl he parked in the driveway. Steve got out of the car and you watched as he walked over to your door. Opening it he held out his hand for you to take. His hand was so warm when you took it, but that didn't stop your skin from prickling.

Hand in hand he walked up the cracked walk way, halting only to unlock the front door.

Following behind him, you noticed just as at your uncle's house how everything looked frozen in time.

"Mom you in here?"

You looked at him puzzled. He lied.

Dishes clanked from the kitchen. "Just a minute" his mother called out. When she walked out it looked like she had aged a bit since you last saw her. Her once platinum blonde hair now mixed with grey.

"Hey Ma look what the cat dragged in."

his arm wrapped around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug. The move made you stiffen and shift from his side uncomfortably.

*Ring Ring

"Oh my goodness!" She opened up her arms to you, embracing you. "Steve told me you were back in town." Apprehensively you rose your arms to hug her. In you peripheral going in his pocket likely silencing his phone again.

She pulled back and frowned at Steve, you crossed your arms and picked at your sleeve. "You should've told me you were swinging by."

"Are you hungry Sweetie? I have some coffee brewing and I can whip you up something."

"No thank you Mrs.Rogers." Stepping back from you turned to address her son. You looked away as they talked.

Above the old TV a family picture hung on the wall. The sight of his smiling father opened a boxed memory.

You were never a favorite guest when the patriarch was around. Your 'study sessions' at the Rogers home diminished greatly after one faithful night.

Steve's father busted through the bedroom door, to find you two entwined. It was the first time you saw fear on him. He was whiter than the sheets you two laid upon.

He yelled for his wife as you redressed quickly. Mr.Rogers dragged Steve to the living room. Even though Steve surely could take the older man he coward on the floor in a ball.

The one time in your life you watched the great Captain brought to his knees. It was as if he had turned back into that scrawny boy from Mrs. Peppers class. His mother and you watched on as the older man beat his son. You wished at that moment for it not to stop.

She gripped your shoulders, her nails dug into you. "They were just studying?" She had shouted at him over and over again.

You didn't care that the old man cursed you for being a 'nigger'. Bringing trash in the house as he called it. The cacophony of blows that rained down on Steve filled you with joy and you tried to hard press down the smile on your lips. Even when Steve's tearful eyes found you, you could not hide your delight.

"I'll be right back Ma." He told her before capturing your hand again. She nodded and waved you off with a smile as Steve led you.

Walking through the house until he landed at his childhood door. You accidentally squeezed his hand because of your anxiety. When he felt it he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, trying to comfort you. Instead it gave the opposite affect.

Urging you to go inside once it opened. You went in alone.

"You stay put I need to talk to her for a minute."

He closed the door behind you and you listened to his foot falls disappear. You hear his phone going off again as he moved further away. Steve uniform making his presence heavy as he moved down the hall. You scanned the familiar surroundings. crossing your arms again you pick at your sleeve, even with him not in the room it was hard to escape the feel of him. There was never enough distance you could make.

Trophies mounted on the wall next to ribbons of all his athletic achievements, movie posters, his twin bed pressed against the wall. All a time capsule.

You heard music turn come on from somewhere in the house. A thing she always did to give you both privacy. The classic tunes making your stomach knot tighter. Steve opened the door to find you unmoved. He closed the door behind himself.

"Do you know why I started dating Peggy?" He paused, his back pressed to the door. You couldn't face him. Walking around to face you he lifted your head with one finger, you were already crying.

"To find ways to make you fall for me, for you to love me." He looked at you so endearingly wiping a tear away with his other hand. You hiss when his thumb dragged across your bruised cheek.

*Ring Ring

The phone broke his train of thought. You could feel his agitation grow. Steve sighed dropping his hand, the vein on the side of his head started to become more prominent. He didn’t silence it, just letting it ring out before he started again.

"Bucky...I didn't tell him to do that."

You didn't believe him. "I'm sorry I didn't think he would lash out on you. I’ll talk to him..." When his hand rested at the hip of his holstered gun your trembling intensified.

“Get in position.” His request was soft, but it still made you break down harder.

There was no point in begging. Sobbing, you step back and get in the middle of the room.

"No...not like that...get on the bed. I need to show you how sorry I am."

"Pleas Steve there is nothing to apologize for." You assured him. It was a rare occasion when Steve wanted to 'apologize', and you never looked forward to the endeavor.

His face turned cold. His lips a hard line. It felt as if Steve had sucked the air out of the room. You felt the wetness from your cheek travel down your neck, sniffing repeatedly. You walked backwards, wiping away tears until you bumped into the mattress.

The bed dipped and squeaked as you lowered yourself on to it. Scooting back enough until your knees hung over the bed and your feet on the frame. Your legs splayed on the bed, then laying your back flat on the mattress. Steve only stood and watched, his dark uniform made him much more menacing.

He was unmoved by the puffiness of your face and red teary eyes.

You kept your clothes on, he preferred it that way. Steve felt like you shouldn't have to lift a finger when he needed to atone.

"Steve.." You spoke out softly. "It's not your fault..please" you sniffed. Steve walked over to the bed, his badge twinkled as he approached.

Hiccups started the instant his hand fell on your jeans. Closing your eyes tears fell from each side, the salty water getting into your ear. The sound of his clothes crinkled as he half bent over you. The bedding wrinkled in your hands as you gripped it.

Steve’s palms pressed into your belly as he unfasten your pants. His fingers felt as if they burned your skin as Steve hooked his hands on the waist. Pealing them down slow, taking your panties with them, making sure that your entire lower half was bear for him.

"I need to show you..." Steve's voice went low and you locked your ankles. "How sorry I am for not being there to stop him." Steve lowered and knelt on his knees.

"I forgive you please" your eyes shoot open when he palms both your knees. You tried to keep your focus anywhere, but him.

Steve's hands moved your knees apart, your ankles unlaced with ease. You tried to control your breathing, the hiccups fell with every exhale. All you could do was stare at the blurry ceiling. Steve's weight pressed into your thigh when he came face to face with your sex.

Steve’s arms wrapped around from the back of your legs. Locking you in place, his hair tickled your thigh the closer he got to your mound.

"Forgive me." He softly pleaded with you. Pecking down your inner thigh each time. Your legs tense hard at the contact.

"Stop I forgive you please stop" your shaky voice was so small when you felt his breath on your skin. You felt his lips part, taking your folds into his mouth and then pulling off slow to release.

“Mmm...”

"I'm sorry" Steve spoke softly before he began again. You felt every word as he talked into your lips. Every syllable driving sensual a moan from you. Steve's teeth grazed your folds until he moved to play with your clit, taking it between his teeth.

"Please..." His tongue plunged deep, curling and swirling. Steve's nose grazed your clit as he swirled around, the touch electrifying you.

"Show me you forgive me.." He begged.

You fought the urge to grab his head and press him further when he sucked you in.

You knew exactly what he meant by that. He was forcing a need onto you. If you broke, then to him he was won.

"Forgive me...." He pleaded before flattening his tongue on your mound, making your back arch and spasm. Through it all his phone rang again and yet again unanswered.

Even though you cried, even though your eyes burned, you came for him. Steve devoured you, lapping up your wetness.

"Captain please I forgive" you panted, he wasn't finished. Steve wanted you to cum over and over again until it hurt.

There was no way to fight the desire for him like this and he knew it. Steve unwrapped his arms and moved his hands behind your knees. They bent as he slowly rose them up, folding you as he continued to apologize. Deepening his kiss, fucking your pussy with his tongue, your mewls louder than the last.

Your thighs tried to squeeze Steve's head, but he forced you to stay in place. Gritting your teeth hard you moan and cum on his face again. Each orgasm filled with tears.

"I-I...I need you...I love you, Captain I-I love you, I forgive you!" You were delirious as you come a third time or a fourth you weren’t sure. You wanted to say anything to make Steve stop.

When he finally released your legs they were a shaky mess. He rose from your mound, his face wet with your juices. You could feel his eyes as you laid there, a crumbled mess on the bed.

Before leaving his mother asked you two to stay for lunch. Steve declined. He needed to start his shift soon. She hugged you both goodbye and you felt numb.

When he dropped you home it was close to noon. Steve kissed your cheek and apologized about needing to go into work. Promising that he would text you as soon as he could and you shuddered.

Reminding you of the times you had to wait for him while he was at practice. Forcing you to lay down in the back seat of his car until practice was over.

Sliding out of the door your thighs felt sore. He offered to walk you up, but you managed to dissuade his help. Steve waited in the driveway for you to enter. A wave of relief washed over you when you saw that your uncle wasn't in his usual spot.

His truck was still here so you were sure he was just sleeping in his room. So while he slept you packed.

Chapter 5>>>>>

Tagging: @readermia ; @mrsbanreswillseeyou ;@astrobabezblog ; @sebastianstansqueen ; @tian-monique ; @shadowcatsworld ; @sllooney ; @tinystudentfirepurse; @mrsbanreswillseeyou; @jxtr610; @villanellevi ; @2fab4utheatrediva; @afriendlyblackhottie; @stupendouslovegardener;

#Dark Cop Steve x reader #Dark!Steve x Reader #Dark Steve x Reader #Dark!Cop!Steve x Reader #Dark!Cop!Steve x Black!Reader #Dark Cop Steve x Black!Reader #Dark!Steve x Black!Reader #dark steve x black!reader dark buck xblack!reader #Dark Steve x Black Reader #black writer #cop au #dark steve x black!reader

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 10

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: Story time.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and loss.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} "Where do you want me?" Henry asked, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as he took in the small woman standing before him.

"We have two options. Either you kneel, or I need a ladder." Faye giggled, turning off the buzzing device and setting it on the edge of the sink. Henry knelt down obediently, raising a flirtatious brow at her as he made himself comfortable on his knees before her. Faye rolled her eyes at the man, picking up a comb and pulling it through his hair detangling the curls, unable to stop from giggling at his happy groans.

"Any last words to the curls?" Faye asked, threateningly turning the clippers back on.

"They'll grow back." Henry sighed, closing his eyes as she began to slowly run the buzzing device over his head, his curls falling away as she went.

"They'll grow back." Faye repeated, brushing the shorn hair from his shoulders. She made sure to leave his newly buzzed hair even, rubbing her hand over his now fuzzy scalp once she was finished.

"Well?" Henry sighed, peering up at her expectantly, his cut hair still sticking to his chest and shoulders, looking like a scolded puppy for all intents and purposes.

"Still as handsome as ever." Faye assured, resting her hand on his cheek. "Now go ahead and wash all that hair off before you get itchy. Briar is probably climbing on something by now.

"Let me sweep this up first." Henry countered, dusting more hair off of himself as he stood, casting the curls on the ground one last sorrowful glance before following Faye back out into the house to grab the broom.

Faye found her daughter cuddled up with Kal in his bed, happily babbling away to the dog, a few promises to behave herself being peppered in with her monologue. She smiled and waved happily when she spotted her mother, hugging the dog possessively.

"He miss me." She declared, squealing happily when the dog licked her face.

"It sure looks like he did. Sweetheart, is it ok if we pass on the dinosaur nuggets tonight? Henry has to follow a special diet for work and can't eat them all the time like you can." Faye explained, kneeling down to run her fingers through the dog's fur.

"Brockey."

"If he has any, I will be sure to make it for you." Faye agreed, kissing her daughter's forehead and heading to the kitchen. It felt strange to be cooking in someone else's kitchen, but she knew if Briar didn't eat soon, a hunger fueled tantrum was imminent. Judging from the looks of his refrigerator he was currently living off a strict diet of chicken and vegetables, several bottles of rosemary water also lining the shelves. That made planning dinner easier. All he had was chicken and Briar wanted her favorite broccoli. That just left the question of where he kept all his pots, pans and utensils.

"You didn't have to start dinner by yourself." Henry's amused voice almost made Faye jump out of her skin, which was quite the problem considering she had resorted to climbing onto the counter to reach the cutting board. He plucked her from her perch, setting her back on her feet and kissing her forehead. "I see where Briar gets her love of climbing." He teased, easily grabbing the cutting board for her.

"Well I'm sorry, not all of us are giants." Faye pouted, smiling softly to herself as she ran a hand over his fuzzy scalp.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty!" Briar announced, rushing into the room, freezing when she saw the unfamiliar looking man so close to her mother.

"Come on, then, let's go potty." Faye broke away, taking her daughter's hand and leading her away.

"Who that?" Briar asked, looking up at her mother with wide eyes as she toddled along beside her.

"That's Henry, sweetie."

"No it not." She disagreed, her tiny face pulling into a frown.

"Yes it is, he just cut his hair." Faye assured, turning the light on for her daughter, waiting by the door for her.

"Not Henry." Briar repeated firmly as she did her business. The scowl never left her tiny face, not even when her mother led her back to the kitchen where Henry had taken over preparing dinner.

"See? Henry." Faye repeated, nodding to the man in question.

"Not. Henry!" Briar repeated firmly, stomping her little foot.

"I'm Henry, princess." Henry chuckled, slowly approaching and crouching down to let the child see his face.

"Henry?" Briar whimpered, reaching an unsure hand out to touch his freshly shorn hair.

"Henry." He nodded, lowering his head more to let her examine his head more closely.

"I told you, it's Henry." Faye chuckled, patting her daughter on the back, rolling her eyes when she wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, silently demanding he pick her up.

"My Henry. I be good." Briar stated firmly, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not going anywhere until your mother tells me to." Henry assured as he picked her up and carried her back to the counter, dragging a chair along with him and setting her down on it so she could watch what he was doing.

Crisis averted, the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, Briar insisting on keeping Henry in her sights at all times. The two minutes he'd taken to go to the bathroom had almost been a disaster. Though the look on his face when he opened the door to find both Kal and Briar waiting on him was priceless.

It came as no surprise to Faye when Briar insisted Henry read her a bedtime story. The little girl had become to clingy since Henry had come back into their lives. He was nice enough to download a few children's books onto his iPad, perching himself on the side of the bed as Briar thoughtfully swiped through her options.

"This." Briar decided, pointing firmly at Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

"Ah, yes. A classic." Henry praised, letting the toddler press into his side to watch the screen as he read. Faye only wished she had her phone with her to sneak a picture of the sweet scene unfolding in front of her. He was going to make a wonderful husband and father some day. He was amazing with her daughter, taking all of her demands in stride. He never lost his temper with her, even when she was being unreasonable. The few times she'd been on the verge of a tantrum around him, all he had to do was raise an eyebrow to instantly defuse the situation. The last three weeks without him around had been hard, Briar having grown so used to having him around.

"Henry." Briar's voice interrupted Faye's train of thoughts.

"Yes?" Henry paused his reading, looking down at the little girl.

"Henry." Briar repeated, pointing at the screen. "Henry Papa Bear."

"What?" Henry asked, giving the girl a confused look.

"Henry Papa Bear." Briar repeated. "Fuzzy bear. Papa Bear." Faye was sure all the color drained from her face at the child's declaration.

"Oh, I'm fuzzy like a bear, hu?" Henry chuckled, ruffling her hair.

"Fuzzy!" Briar insisted, pulling the collar of his shirt down more and pointing firmly at his chest hair. "Fuzzy Bear. Papa Bear!"

"Well why am I Papa Bear? Why can't I be Baby Bear?" Henry gasped in mock offense.

"No, silly! I Baby Bear!" Briar explained.

"Ok, I'll be the Papa Bear, then. So, we just discovered that Goldilocks tried my porridge, your mother's porridge, and then ate yours ALL UP!" Henry continued on as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"That will teach her to come in our house and mess with our stuff." Henry finished reading, squeezing the little girl to his side before getting up and ushering her under the blankets.

"Princess Kal." Briar requested, pulling the blanket up to her nose.

"You know, Kal is a boy dog." Henry pointed out, fighting a laugh.

"Sleep here." Briar continued, oblivious to Henry's correction.

"Will you sleep better with him in here?" Henry asked, whistling for the dog at Briar's enthusiastic nod. The fluffy canine wasted no time in jumping straight onto the bed, forcing his wiggling body close to Briar's and laying his head on her pillow, lazily licking at the side of her head.

"Looks like I've been replaced." Henry sighed in mock despair, switching on the night light and gently shooing Faye into the hall to close the door.

"By which one?"

"Both. It would seem I am obsolete."

"Aww, poor baby."

"That's poor Papa Bear thank you." Henry scoffed.

"I am so sorry about that." Faye quickly apologized, her hands unconsciously coming up to cover her lower face in horror.

"She's a child, it's no bother." Henry assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her back to the living room.

"She's never said anything like that before, I swear."

"I know you don't enjoy the subject, but can I trouble you to tell me about her father?" Henry requested suddenly, sitting on the couch and pulling Faye into his lap, wrapping her securely in his arms.

"He's not in the picture." Faye summarized, resting her head against his shoulder to hide her face.

"I know there's more to the story than that." Henry gently pressed.

"He... he left as soon as he found out I was pregnant. I showed him the ultrasound pictures and... it wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. He accused me of lying. When that didn't work, he started saying I was a whore, and he had no way of knowing if they were his, that anyone could be their father."

"You mean her. Briar." Henry interjected.

"No... they." Faye admitted after a long pause, reluctantly pulling her sleeve up to show him the ink on her forearm more closely. A pair of wings and a date, marking the worst day of her life. "Briar had a twin that I lost at around ten weeks."

"I'm so sorry." Henry apologized, his stomach dropping as he squeezed her tight, regretting bringing up the subject.

"Not like he cared. He was long gone by then.

"That didn't make it any easier on you."

"No, but there was nothing I could do." Faye sniffled, quickly wiping at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. "He was never involved with anything. He's not on her birth certificate."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Henry apologized after a long pause, unable to think of what else to say.

"It's fine. Most people just assume she was from a one night stand or something." Faye shrugged. "Doesn't matter that I was with that asshole for years before I got pregnant, or that he made the decision that if I stopped taking birth control, that meant he didn't have to use a condom either. What kind of sense does that even make? Of course, the asshole didn't even tell me about it until after the fact. Naturally, it was my fault for expecting him to continue using contraceptive if I didn't."

"That makes no sense. He didn't want a child, but he did nothing to prevent from having one?"

"I know. It was just another way of him trying to control me."

"You've done an amazing job raising Briar on your own. She's a happy little spitfire, just like her mum."

"Mom."

"You're in England now, Miss Warren. Here, we say mum."

"Well Briar and I are both from the states. We say mom."

"I really am sorry about the last few weeks." Henry abruptly changed the subject. "I was very busy and I didn't want any distractions. I was miserable. I realize now I really could have used a few distractions to keep me sane instead of throwing myself into my work."

"That's what you do. You're an all or nothing type of guy. Half way is not in your vocabulary."

"What I'm trying to say is, I want to make it easier for you two to be around more."

"How so? You're not about to ask us to move in with you or something, because I really don't think that's a great -"

"No, no." Henry cut her off with a chuckle. "I know you wouldn't say yes even if I did offer. You're far too independent to move in with a man you've only known a few months. What I meant was: would it bother you if I bought some things to make the two of you more comfortable here? That way you could come over whenever you wanted without having to plan it out."

"Such as?"

"Toothbrushes come to mind. You mentioned Briar still needs diapers at night. I could add more things to the spare room to make Briar more comfortable in there. Some stuffed animals maybe? Possibly new bedding with characters on them."

"Henry, if you are asking my permission to go crazy and redecorate your spare room to suit a three year old girl, go for it. I won't judge."

"I'm holding you to that. That girl's already got me wrapped around her little finger." Henry sighed defeatedly.

"You'll get used to it. Soon you won't even notice that your entire day is being plotted out by someone that can't tie her own shoes."

"You don't know how to tie your shoes?" Henry gasped playfully.

"Learning to tie shoes is overrated. Zippers and velcro are the way to go."

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you #guys like you fic

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maximumjinx · 5 years

Text

Been reading a lot of salt. So here’s some I wanted to see in a fic.

_____________________________________________

~Ladybug’s Finale~

Marinette counted to 10, for the fourth time today.

“It’s a chronic thing girl, it would be best to just keep the seating this way anyways!” Alya explained as the seating was arranged so that she sat in the back row. Again.

Without her knowledge or permission.

Again.

Lila smiled sweetly, sat closely to Adrien who looked mildly uncomfortable as he shot his classmate an apologetic look. Marinette wasn’t even jealous as much as she was annoyed that the class has decided to protect and cater to Lila without resistance or question. Lila explained her hearing problem had flared up again, but this time Marinette only remained silent.

Nothing had exactly been the same since the class first turned on her. The heroine knew she had to treat Lila like a constant akuma, patiently observing for the right time to strike. It also helped to smother the hurt she felt from her best friend abandoning her at lunch, and their after school plans, and their paired project.

Marinette decided to pour herself into her job instead.

Down came the shrine to Adrien and his modeling, instead she would dedicate her spare time to finding Hawkmoth and ending his terrorizing once and for all.

The class went to the movies and held a group picnic, without any invitation or notice to the class president. Alya claimed that Lila (who was in charge of invitations) simply texted the wrong number. Lila’s curled smile told a different story. Marinette blew a breath, rolled her eyes, and assured Alya she was fine, she was able to not only catch up on her schoolwork, but complete her work for the rest of the semester.

Marinette won the two design contests she had entered a month later. None of her friends could attend the first award ceremony, as Lila had just broken up with her secret American singer boyfriend, and she needed their support. Marinette didn’t mention her second award. Or any she won afterwards.

Alya began to post Lila’s ‘encounters’ with Ladybug and stories to the Ladyblog as prime sources of information. She couldn’t figure out why Ladybug wouldn’t stop for an interview anymore.

Chat Noir rarely saw his Lady anymore, since she patrolled frequently while he was attending his extra circulars and modeling. Even after an akuma, she would give him a sad smile, a weak fist bump, and flee before she detransformed. The akumas were defeated with ease now, as Ladybug had surprised Chat with not only new moves, but new weapons as well. Marinette had been attending extra training with Master Fu and earned new powers after all.

Her cork board was covered in red string, sighting of Hawkmoth, crossed out suspects and more. Marinette was frustrated, but getting closer with each day.

“Marinette why don’t you take a break? See if Alya wants to come over or maybe hang out in the park to watch Adrien’s shoot!” Tikki suggested, trying to cover her worry with a bouncy attitude.

“Alya hasn’t texted me in months Tikki, let alone ask to hang out.” Marinette mumbled, still deep in thought as she examined her board.

Tikki faltered, but refused to give up.

“Why don’t you patrol with Chat for a change! You both haven’t really connected in a while.”

“It’s better that way. He’s flirting with me less and less and we’re both more focused on Akumas.”

“But Marinett-“

“What, Tikki?!” Marinette whipped around to face her kwami. Her eyes were glossy, angry and hurt.

“Nobody likes me! They don’t want anything to do with me! I may as well be the same as I was before Ladybug.” Marinette didn’t cry, but pulled a pained smile instead. “They don’t check up on me. They don’t care.”

The goddess of creation was at a loss for words. She looked warily for an akuma, but nothing appeared. Marinette took a deep breath, and felt the tips of her fingers go cold again. Her chest ached, but it was duller now.

“No akuma, you don’t have to worry.” Marinette half heartedly closed her investigation board, grabbing a black sweater on her way out the door. “We’re late to meet Master Fu.”

___

“You’ve unlocked the staff I see.” Fu noted, as Marinette began basic forms. “The last Ladybug to unlock that was considered very strong. And unforgiving.”

Marinette only hummed in response. She liked the staff, it reminded her of her brief moment as Lady Noire. Chat and her had so much fun that day.

“Master?” She strutted forward, bow extended. “Why don’t you train Chat like you train me?”

Master Fu was silent for a moment, Wayzz watching warily.

“That boy has enough on his plate without extra training added.”

Marinette wanted to protest that she was busy as well, but remembered her new free time.

“Besides, since I lost the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous when the Temple was destroyed, I decided it be better to only let you see where the miracle box is truly hidden.”

The staff stilled. Tikki looked at her chosen with piqued interest.

“Marinette?” The kwami tried.

“You lost the miraculouses with the temple.” Marinette parroted.

Master Fu tilted his head. “Yes.”

“Master, where did you lose the Miraculous book?”

“I lost everything that day, when the temple-“ Master Fu froze, looking at Marinette with wide eyes. She hadn’t dropped her bow yet.

“Fu, you geezer.” He chastied himself, “Marinette the book! Whoever had the book-“

Marinette dropped the bow, a loud vebrato echoinf around the room. She looked to Tikki with an unreadable expression.

“Looks like my chances with Adrien really are ruined.”

...

“Marinette wait- we still don’t know the full story!” Tikki yelled, from inside Marinette’s bag. But the blunette was already racing home, feet literally pounding the pavement.

How didn’t she see it before? She had crossed out most of the Agreste household, but if she could make is so that Ladybug and Marinette were in the same place, couldn’t they do so as well? Adrien isn’t Hawkmoth, she knew that much. Whichever side he took on Lila’s lies didn’t make him a villain, if he decided not to interfere or shake the boat, those are his own issues to work out.

Gabriel Agreste. The elusive, fashion designer. With an assistant that knows his every move in and out of a potential suit, his very own Mayura. He had the resources to go to Tibet, he had the book in his possesion, and if he himself wasn’t hawkmoth, he at least knew more about the villain than he let on.

“Tikki, spots on!” Marinette hissed, suddenly taking a sharp turn into an alley. A new fire was burning under the heroine. She would need Chat to take down Hawkmoth, she may need all the heroes. Tikki wrapped around her, without any flashes or spectacular poses.

Ladybug immediately took to the roofs. A call to Chat should be able to at least transfer to his kwami, even untransformed. She admits she hasn’t been as close to Chat lately, with everything around her she doesn’t feel like getting close. The people she believed were her close friends were quick to turn around and leave her behind. The boy she loved wasn’t what she built him up to be, this was her own fault, she knew that.

But Chat, he was the partner Fu chose, he took things less seriously than he should, and Marinette believed it was because she had let him for too long. She liked the banter they had back and forth, liked being able to talk to someone without worrying about what they thought about Marinette. She was a spaz, she was late, she was disorganized, and she was cowardly. But that was different now, she had to grow up. So she did.

Now wasn’t the time for anymore games.

“Kid, Ladybug is trying to contact you.”

Plagg was resting on Adrien’s pillow as his chose sat at the desk, practicing his Mandarin. Plagg has been around for eons, and knew every language there is to know, even the dead ones. He had lived through them after all. The kwami was correcting Adrien on his pronounciation.

His chosen jumped up, eyes wide.

“She is?”

“Wait- don’t get too excited it might be-”, Plagg couldn’t finish, suddenly transforming Adrien in a rush. Damn it, he hated when his kittens didn’t let him speak.

Chat Noir on the other hand, was estatic.

“I should get her flowers, we haven’t had any time to hang out. She hasn’t been looking like herself lately.”

It was true, Ladybug had gotten a few upgrades on her suit, but even Chat had noticed how much black had bled into the classic polka dot design. He wasn’t too worried, he himself was covered in the color. But the black was now covering her legs to her thigh, her chest and upper back was now covered in a thin but incredibly strong black armored plate. She had a hood now too, entirely red that she kept loose for the most part, but he had seen up and around her face during nightly patrols. Lastly, she now had a belt, to hold her yoyo and what he guessed a bag full of special transformations for her kwami.

The change was gradual, new things here and there, but startling all the same.

Chat decided to skip the flowers. As much as he loved Ladybug, he knew lately she wasn’t responding to his advances. There was a part of him that wanted to be bitter and try harder, but after weeks of having Lila forcibly hanging on his arm, he could guess why Ladybug wanted the space. He was still dealing with taking the distance as a place to let them both breathe, and not as a form of rejection.

He arrived to his Lady’s location, and noticed her hood was up. He suddenly felt uneasy. The sun was only setting, so why have it up now?

“Hey there Bug-“ he wanted so badly to finish it with ‘-aboo’, but pushed it back.

She turned around to face him, and he saw a new change. Her mask had turned into a visor, the black dots still in place, and bending around her nose like glasses. It looked more efficient at protecting her eyes than the last mask. Also, her hair was loose. It was tucked into her hood, with small pieces framing her face and resting on her shoulders.

She wasn’t smiling, but looked worried.

“Ladybug?” Chat felt uneasy with the look on her face.

Ladybug steeled herself, “I think I know who Hawkmoth is and we need a plan.”

Chat looked alarmed.

“You figured it out? What are we waiting for!”

“Wait Chat,” Ladybug placed an hand on his shoulder, “we could need the other miraculous holders. And we need to look more into the suspect. I might have a way in with my civilian identity but we need to do this carefully.”

Chat faltered. His lady would never risk her personal identity, he’s mentioned before she has too many loved ones to protect. Has that somehow changed?

“Can you at least tell me who it is?”

Ladybug looked at Chat carefully, and sighed.

“The guardian and I were talking when I realized it.” Chat tried not to let her regular meetings with Fu sting, “Master Fu lost the peacock and butterfly miraculous back at the temple in tibet. He also lost several artifacts from his temple, and the book of miraculous.”

Chat could feel breath begin to come out shallow, heart racing in his chest.

“So whoever found the book, must have found the miraculous.” He finished. “Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.”

“Or Gabriel Agreste somehow got the book from Hawkmoth.” Ladybug wasn’t sure about that theory, but she couldn’t accuse him without better proof again.

Chat Noir disagreed. He found the book with a few belongings of his mother, and a map of Tibet. His father was never the same after his mom disappeared. A thought occured to him.

His eyes widened, “Mayura-“

“Might be Gabriel’s assistant Nathalie Sancouer, yes.” Ladybug didn’t appear angry or determined to track these two down. Instead it looked like it pained her to realize the truth. Perhaps she was mimicking Chat’s own emotions.

Chat looked at his Lady. Obviously she had been going through a few things. Bad things. And if she was willing to risk her identity when unknowning there was a better candidate for undercover work beside her, Chat knew she could trust her with his identity. He always knew that.

“Ladybug, I know it’s important to keep our identites a secret, and I’m not sure how you would even try to investigate out of the suit, but you have to know something first.” Chat took a step back.

“What are you-“

“You don’t have to reveal yourself to me. I know how important your own identity is to you. But there’s an easier way to get to Agreste.” He took a deep breath. “We have to use Adrien.”

Ladybug’s face shifted to disbelief, then to anger.

“We won’t put a civilian in danger! And he didn’t handle the Snake miraculous well, we would be sending him in without any protection!” She barked.

Chat smiled humorlessly.

“I think he can handle himself.” He was risking everything. But with everything his father might have done, it was his job to make it right. “Claws in.”

He heard his partner shriek, and quickly cover her eyes.

“Chat now is not the time! What makes you think your civilian identity can get closer to Adrien or Gabriel than mine?”

“Because I live under the same roof.” Adrien thought for a moment. “And I’m not Gorilla- in case you had any doubts.”

Ladybug’s mouth dropped, hand trembling over her eyes. She didn’t want to look.

“Adrien?” She asked shakily, still unable to remove her palm. She felt long fingers carefully wrap around her own, and gently pry her hand away.

Adrien Agreste stood on a roof in pajama pants and a hoodie, hair messed up from the wind, and a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hey LB.”

—-

#miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #fic #ml salt #alya salt #lila salt #lila rossi #hawkmoth #ladynoir #adrienette #marichat #ladrien #tikki #plagg #writing

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

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It’s The Avengers (03x10)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 10: Safehouse

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: soft moments

Word Count: It is an achievement to get this chapter out. Imma celebrate it. Oh fanfic Gods! Give me the power!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera only had space made up with the galactic beauty swirling in deepest green that can put the stars to shame. The black hole seemed to become bigger as the camera has decided to use a snail's pace to zoom out, giving the audience quite the treat into the pool seems to disappear and reappear under the pale lids with unsurprisingly long lashes. Those veritable brows are wrinkled- enough to make one concerned but not enough to force someone to come and sit next to him with an ice-cream sundae as Peter did once- as if wondering something under their hypothetical breaths. The camera panned out more to show those thin lips going thinner, almost into one nearly invisible line. A long breath is drawn in and those long white fingers are made to rest on his chin as he looks up into an endless void and even Javier- who is being recorded by the other tiny drone- is thinking some stuff. The camera panned out further to show him half lying on the pilot seat while his legs rested on the cargo box behind, away from the controls. A true piece of art.

Javier: *signs as he points to his tablet with Loki's live feed* this God could be a fucking model. *fans himself*

It wasn't long before his voice broke the silence. "Maybe it is the food," he contemplates for the room where his only audience is a busy fur-baby licking his nethers. "Or maybe it was the people on Knowhere. Or it was just that...dingy old-" Loki's casually furry brows were now carrying a full frown- "lair. I don't know." The sigh the left his lungs was loud enough to reach to the back while he lifted his legs to ground himself and droop into his own lap, running his hands through his nearly greasy hair. When was the last time he washed them? "Why is she mad, Lulu?" Loki groans, trying to massage his head to get something out of it. Lulu, on the other hand, decided this was the best time to lie upside down and play with the one blue firefly that got stuck in their ship while they were leaving Knowhere. "Why has she locked herself back there?" He raised his head and asked some invisible force before looking at Javier's camera.

Loki: I'm not concerned for her *pretends to shrug* I just *blinks* don't want my ship to be flooded with her tears. Humans just have the tendency to go all out with their hurt and pain unlike some of us. *camera zooms in to his face* *resting bitch face on* Tell a word about this to her and I will cut you.

A click of something in the back immediately heightened Loki's senses to make his elbow slip from the chair, making him look for support long enough to pose in the chair with the nearest piece of reading material like a man lost in a completely different world, doing an award-worthy job of pretending to not see you come in. "Do we have some sort of digestive tablets on board?" Your hoarse voice asked while barely looking around the space. "I feel bloated. It's fucking disgusting." The groan you let out made Lulu sit up and tilt his head in your direction with his fur standing straight on his back. Loki tsked, still not looking up from the catalogue of the best sex robots on the market in Knowhere. "I told you not to eat those Cheese Puffs on Know-" "OH MY FUCKING GOD!!" Your rage-filled outburst caught the god by surprise, making him jolt up enough to be caught by the camera for the amusement of a certain group of people hungry for entertainment. "THosE FUckING chEEse puFFs wOn'T do me as much damage as your BICKERING!!!" The painful frustration that left your lungs made Javier's eyes go wide. Loki turned to look at the camera in pure confusion.

Loki: *a glorious frown on his face* *arms crossed* *bites lower lip* *inhales* *raises finger* maybe she is sexually frustrated? Space can no human touch can do that to you. And she clearly hasn't watched porn since we teleported *scoffs lightly* *rolls eyes* thank Valhalla for that. I no longer have to hear those filthy noises from across the wa- *stops mid-sentence when a mug comes flying to hit him in the head* "Pervert," you call from out of the frame while Loki ruffles his hair to remove the shards of ceramic caught in there. Loki: Okay *stares at the camera* maybe she's not sexually frustrated. *pauses with his lips still apart* *camera pans in* unless this tantrum is a human way of getting my atten- *another mug comes flying*

"Okay," Loki spun around in his chair to put the ship in full throttle for a destination only he knew about, "that's it. I did not want it to come to this but we are landing here." The camera spun to you and your crinkled brows. "We are supposed to get back your juice, man. Stop making unwanted pit-stops." Lulu's camera caught the disgust on Loki's face as he closed his eyes and shook his head lightly. "Stop saying that." "What?" You crossed your arms across your chest, narrowing your eyes while glaring at the back of his head. "Your juice?" "It's my essence." "But it is your juice. You took it out and now you want to put it back in." "The essence was extracted out of me and I need to consume it-" "You know that sounds worse, right?" "..." "Don't worry, baby, we'll get your bad bitch juice." "It's NOT a ju-why am I even arguing." "Because it's a turn on," you muttered under your breath before sitting down with Lulu in your lap and tying your seat belt. "What?" Loki turned his head around. "Nothing." Innocent as ever.

Loki: I think she's forgetting I have good ears. *narrows eyes and puckers his lips*

You: Oh I know he has super-hearing. That's why I leave my laptop on a decent volume with some classic porno on whenever I'm mad at him. *shrugs and leans back in the chair* *camera pans in on your smirk*

On a Planet Unknown The cameras took in the expanse of the barren planet the group had landed on. The ground seemed to have been hit with a drought. There were small hills in the distance and a few craters scattered all over. The star of this solar system shone too far, bright with pink hues on its tails, making everything drown in a tinge of blush. It was hard to miss this strange sentiment on Loki's face. A mixture of nostalgia with a side of something sour. He breathed in this atmosphere, closing his eyes to reminisce something the others did not have a clue about. A serene smile painted on his lips while his skin reflected the baby pink hues with delicate softness. Javier, talented with his work, used his hovering little drone cam to slowly and cautiously pan in on Loki's face, being really patient on the controls in his hands. "So this is where your juice is?" The zooming in stopped as Loki's eyes opened, blinked twice and sighed some of his internal frustration out. "My-" you could see the boiling lines of frustration on his face while Javier caught the suppressed delight on yours- "juice...is not here." "Then why are we here?" "To get rid of you-" You whipped your head faster than he could finish. "-r grey clouds." Suspicion fresh on your face, you waited for him to continue. "When I'd fallen into the wormhole after my... alleged demise, this was the first place I discovered after a series of misfortunes," Loki exhaled, looking at clean nothingness in front of them. It was not much but Javier zoomed in your face that did a slow shift from the barren view to the sharp face that reflected nothing but a painful softness in those melodramatic hues. "This-" your voice was softer than you wanted it to be- "was your...safehouse?" Loki inhaled and turned to give you a thoughtful look. "In some ways, yes." The hints of smile that were on Loki's face seemed to question the expression on your face as your lips parted in slight horror before he was witnessing you jump away from something and right into his arms with a scream. "Something touched my foot!!!" No one really told Javier to focus on a specific genre yet there he was, letting his camera do a slow-mo on the way Loki's arm came to the rescue of your waist, holding you steady. And close to him. Javier neither missed the frantic grasp of Loki's black shirt under his overcoat by your hands as you turned around to watch what menace had bothered to make you their next victim.

Javier: *signing* I do not know how to activate Lulu's stomach music otherwise I would have added a cheesy track too. *smiles* *somewhere on Earth a boy forgets to breathe*

"Relax," Loki soothed you as he looked down at the familiar purple and pink light crawling up through the cracks in the ground, "here. Look." He did not push you away, in fact, he held you just as he did while you followed his gaze to look at seedling sprouting through the ground and growing leaves and a bud right in front of you in real-time; the bonus being the glow-in-the-dark veins and petals that shone purple and pink. A muted 'Woah' left your lungs while Lulu examined the little plant, tapping at it with his paw to be amused by the ripple he created in the bioluminescent flora. Loki leaned a little closer to your ear while you were still gawking at the plant next to your feet. "Look up," he whispered. "Huh?" Your eyes instantly went away from the plant towards the field that now had an abundance of these flowers while trees grew at a distance carrying the same effect in their leaves- with purple fire trapped inside them. "What the hell is this place?!" You could barely breathe. Loki, on the other hand, was having a gala time at the expense of your expressions. "There was once a...lets say a conscious planet that went by the name Ego. Ego created an ecosystem that would survive in the absence of a star and when in the presence of it, it would camouflage itself to keep the biome intact, because, you know, greedy neighbours, bad rocks, invading aliens, yada yada." You look at the camera to shake your head. "What you are standing on right now is a chunk of that ecosystem." You looked around once again. "So, this thing was bigger than what it is now?" Loki was delighted by your interest. "Yes. It was ten times the size of the earth. And-" he added with such a gush of stress that you were scared he was going to burst any moment- "it had dinosaurs."

You: *guffaws* Haha! Nerd!

Loki: *suspiciously stared at the camera* What. I have interests too, you judgy clots. *somewhere outside the frame you softly shout 'It's thots!'* Yes. *does not waver his gaze from the camera* That.

"Damn! I could live in this place forever!" Loki narrowed his eyes in slight discomfort. "Weeeellll-" The camera cut to you looking like you saw a ghost. "EGO WAS PETER QUILL'S DAD????!!!!!" You shout right into the frame before your body freezes and the shock disappears into a blank slate. "Wait a second..." The camera was already turning to Loki who was shaking his head and whispering to himself, "She went there."

You: *confusion level: the white guy who went to India instead of Indiana* How did Quill's parent even have sex?!! *camera pans in on the gasp that escapes you* Tentacles! *the camera pans out to show Loki standing next to you with he arms crossed across his chest* Loki: *tired* Pervert.

"This is a dead rock with the remnant prints of Ego," he continued, "Come, let's go inside." Saying that he started to walk in some random direction according to you while bringing his hand for you to take. Your eyes went from those long fingers open and waiting for you before looking at the back of his head. A step more from him and you rushed your hand to take his, wrapping your fingers carefully around his palm. The camera was quick to catch your free hand going for the back of your ear, scratching some itch while silently walking some distance with the God. "Wh-" you cleared the vibrating disturbance in your throat- "where are we going?" "Just a few more steps." And true to his words, a few steps later, Loki stopped, making you pause right next to him. Letting go of your hand- something that made you grip those fingers in the other hand, trying to wring them dry of secrets only you knew- to feel something in the space in front of him with his palm. And when he did, he grabbed the space and yanked it back, revealing the space to give way to a cottage. A small, dark, probably comfy cottage. In the middle of nowhere. Covered in glowing purple moss. While you stood there gaping at the incomprehensible science happening in front of you, Loki undid the padlock on the front door to open and enter first. "Stay outside till I tell you to come in," he ordered, not realising you were too engrossed in the exterior architecture of this little house to listen to him. Javier sent one of his drones inside while waiting outside with you. "Dude!" You exhaled while punching Javier on his arm, "this is heaven!!!" Turning the camera to face him, Javier looked at it and signed 'is it though?'. "Alright, come in," Loki's voice called for you from inside. "Hiding your porn stash, Loki?" you stated quite rhetorically before the camera found you frozen at the entrance of what looked like a living room. And your eyes stuck on Loki's face softly illuminated by the blue-ish purple flames captured inside a foot long lamp in the shape of a cuboid. You stood there in a ten-second daze, your eyes stuck on the face that worked meticulously with four more similar lamps before turning to look at you, immediately making you throw your gaze at the lamps. "Nice lights," you stated, a little louder than usual, clearly confused by your own pitch. Loki walked around the place, hanging the lamps to help light up the cottage, allowing you, the cameras and Lulu to explore the place more freely. The cottage felt more spacious on the inside. There was a sofa facing a window where you stood, a small but decent workstation behind it next to the wall with small tools stacked by the size and category. The walls were decorated with a league of tools that only Loki knew about. "Is that a Ghili suit?" you had to ask. "Yes," Loki answered without looking from the kitchen, "and no, you cannot try it on." You tsked and Loki smiled. "So-" you clapped your hands and walked around casually, letting your legs stretch with each step- "where the beds at." Loki turned to face you, taking a step towards you, holding his arm up to take the support of the ceiling as he leaned in to get his face close to yours. Javier- clever as ever- zoomed in at the bulge of Loki's bicep wanting to get free of the lone t-shirt that barely got to see the light of the day with that unexplainably fashionable overcoat. There was a split second where the camera looked at Lulu scratching away at the sofa in the living room, drawing his attention with a click and gesturing something out of the frame to make the little furball pause the massacre for a few seconds before pressing his stomach.

Can't Keep My Eyes Off You Lo-Fi version starts playing through Lulu's stomach.

"There are no beds here, darling," Loki cooed with his signature smirk right in your face. "There is only a bed." Your composure might have slipped for a second with his model-like posture but you had seen enough fuckboys in your life to deal with the God's sense of play. "Oh," you stressed sullenly while taking off your jacket and throwing it on the couch over Lulu, "guess we'll have to make do with what we have." You knew your puppy dog eyes won't do much on this creature but that slight distortion in his gaze when he blinked to look down at your sweaty tank top before coming back to your face was worth it all.

You: *chuckling* no matter where they come from they are all horny at some point under it all, aren't they?! *looks away from the lens at Javier* Hmm? *mocking a laugh* What? I was just joking with him. That's how friends joke with each other. *glares at Javier with the smile still smacked on your face* Don't read into it. *camera swerves to show Javier sign* Javier: Will Mr Stark think this as a joke? Just asking? *camera swerves back to the one-eighty your expression does* You: Oh, he'll kill him.

Back On Earth "Ooooh, Tony's gonna murder that punk." Sam's crackling whisper was followed by nods and hums from Peter, Scott and Wanda. Vision was the only one who tilted his head in deep thought. "Is it because Loki held Y/N's hand and holding one's hand shows a sign of affection?" "Yes, our big robot baby," Scott sang while feeding Vision another popcorn. "But Wanda and Natasha hold hands too. But it seems absurd for me to get mad at that," the AI continued while Wanda chuckled. "Wanda and Natasha holding hands is akin to two sisters holding hands," Scott explained, "and that's the only concept we will go with if we all like our necks intact." All the boys agreed. "Now Loki, on the other hand, is seen as a threat by Tony because Y/N, his daughter, is young and still a baby in his eyes whom he wants to protect at all costs. While Loki- thanks to his chiselled looks and accurately hot manners- seems like the boy no father would want their daughter to date. Because a man like that takes seconds to make a girl fall in love with him. Look at the dude. Look at the bod. And that's when he is wearing clothes on clothes on clothes. No wonder Tony wouldn't want him within a hundred feet of his daughter." Now, everyone was looking at a sighing Scott giving heart eyes to Loki on the screen. The camera turned to show a previously busy-with-her-nails Natasha pausing to look at the Ant-Man and wonder. "You are in love with Loki." "Head over heels, woman," Scott smiled without looking away from the screen. "Tell me one thing," Peter asked out of curiosity while chewing on the popcorn, "you learned the word 'akin' today, didn't you?" "It was the word of the day on dictionary.com," he replied without missing a beat.

Space Farm Safehouse One of Javier's camera had followed you up the attic, while you went looking for a place to hang your wet clothes. Unlike the eerie space shown in the movies, this one was spacious, had an entire wall with a window and a sofa set in the direction to enjoy the view of the flora sparkling outside. Putting your clothes on what looked like a wooden chair in the corner, you sat down on the sofa, eyes stuck on the view outside. The camera rotated to capture the wave of purple embers riding the plants and the cracks of the ground. The camera watched you inhale when steps were heard coming up the stairs, a figure out of focus walking behind you, disappearing to let you feel the cushion dip next to you. "Feels one hell of a place hide from the world," you whispered, never blinking for the fear of missing it all. La vie en rose Louis Armstrong but it's raining Loki chuckled. "Who hurt you?" The playful grin on Loki's face turned to ash when he turned and watched you sniffle while huge tears fell from your eyes. The God's face knew a new type of fear when he turned to the camera.

Loki: *raises his hands in defence* I swear upon my own self I meant it as a joke. *looks at the camera* Tony, if you are seeing this, it was a joke.

"Why does it hurt so much?" You sobbed while your eyes never once stopped the tap that had been set free. "Even after so many years, why do all those old memories hurt so much?" Loki did open his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He brought his hand forward to keep it on your shoulder but stopped short, taking it up to your head before receding his hand back to himself. "W-" "I am having a good day and suddenly I cannot stop thinking about the time my mom ripped all my drawing because she wanted me to do something more 'productive'. It's been, what, twelve years and that stupid memory is fucking me up today." By this time you were ugly crying, trying to stop your snot from coming out of your nose. Loki shuffled where he sat, finally bringing his hand up to let his fingers touch your head. "There, there," he sputtered, the pain of embarrassment bright on his face. "Loki I-uh-I am sooo sorry!" You bawled, clearly confusing the God even more. "You don't have to be s-" "I met Frigga on Knowhere," you stated between your tears and jerks, making him pause where he sat. "And obviously she was supposed to meet you but got stuck with me for some reason. And then before we could come to you, I asked her if she was the good guy, you know. To make sure she was not going to hurt you. And she was super sweet and she smiled at me and then disappeared and I am so sorry you were not able to meet her because of me." It felt like ages passed when Loki blinked and brought himself to the current space and time. His brows furrowed and his iris seemed to open wide in some heavy revelation. "Is that why you have been struggling since we left Knowhere?" You sniffled and took the white rag that came out of frame, making the camera pan out to watch Lulu sitting by your feet ready with another rag for you. No one knew where he got them from. "Is this why you did not talk to me the entire trip?" You nodded before blowing your nose into the rag and tossing it into the basket kept in the corner. Loki sighed. "Y/N." He scooched closer to you, taking your shoulders to turn you towards him."Look at me." You did. "My mother disappearing on you is not your fault." You whimpered, forcing him to move each of his hand from your shoulder to your face, his fingers running the length, allowing his palm to anchor itself over your jaw. "Frigga was a Witch. And she was no ordinary Witch. If she found a way to meet you even after her death then I am confident that she will find a way to meet me too. Okay?" He waited for an answer. The camera panned in to look at your tear-smeared face nod in between his hands. "Now I want you to tell me something-" he sang soothingly being as gentle with his words as with those hands still stuck on your face- "did these old memories come up after you met her?" That guilty puppy look you gave him confirmed some fear of his. He said something under his breath that sounded like an alien curse. Almost drooping with his eyes closed, he pulled himself back to face you. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Y/N." He let his thumb stroke your cheek, neither of you realising how you leaned into his touch. "I think there is something else that made me go through it," you muttered through your hoarse throat. Loki simply nodded. "I think I'm about to start my-" "Period," Loki finished your sentence, sighing and taking his hands away from your face to let one arm move around your shoulder. "I know. I could hear your uterus howling on the ship." You adjusted yourself on the couch to bring your legs up and rest your head on his shoulder. "That must be quite scary for you, hearing my insides like that." "Ehh," Loki answered, looking at the scenery outside while meteors passed through the sky, lighting up when entering the atmosphere, "not as scary when your intestines growling before you let all the air out of your syste-ow!" "It's gas! It's normal. Get over it, you twat!" The sound of his chuckle reverberated throughout the cottage. Lulu slept at the foot of the couch while the two of you talked some more till sleep took over one and the other found a blanket to cover you and let your rest. "Let's find some cure for this bloody situation in the morning," Loki whispered to your snoring figure; finding himself sitting the foot of the sofa for a few more minutes before letting his hand pat your head a few times. Two pats and he moved his hand away, watching the camera entering the space. "What are you looking at?" he softly threw in Javier's direction, getting up and walking past him. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you up just with the first rays."

The Lounge "Oof! These idiots 'bout to fall in love." The camera zoomed out to show Rhodey sipping his morning coffee while Peter and Scott slept over each other on the couch, snoring quite loud while Zuko licked Peter's face while standing on the armrest. Rhodey looked at the duo, judging them and their will to sit there for more than twenty-four hours. "You guys are lucky Tony has another daughter to think about right now." He tsked and turned back to the TV, muttering 'fangirls' under his breath before walking away to get a refill.

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invisibleinorange · 4 years

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Swelter Weather, 2/?

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: None at this point. Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties), Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington, Benedict Bridgerton, Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix Additional Tags: Bridgerton, Polin

Summary: Colin Bridgerton is weary from travel and decides to spend the summer at the Aubrey Hall. While his initial plans were to avoid his perfect family, he ends up sharing the house with Eloise and Penelope. This is a Modern AU!

Eloise thanked every star in the sky when Colin ventured out to go riding because that meant that she didn’t have to stomach another minute of him flirting with her best friend. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that they were friendly with each other nor was it that she didn’t want them to be friendly. It was just that the two of them alone was a bit overwhelming.

She usually only caught moments of banter between them though and with a million family members around someone was always getting pulled in the other direction. She didn’t have anyone to help break it up if this pattern of behavior continued and with the rest of the family busy back in London, she wouldn’t be able to call for reinforcements not that she could have. What was she supposed to tell them that wouldn’t earn an eyeroll.

After an eventful day of showing Penelope the lay of the land, including the gardens, they’d decided to have a movie night. There had been some discussion on whether to go with a serious documentary or a comedy. In the end, they ended up deciding to go the classic horror route and watch Hitchcock movies.

They were half-way through Psycho, completely absorbed into the story and awaiting a suspenseful moment when Colin came into the door frame. He watched them for a moment, completely unaware of his presence before he maneuvered over plopping into the space between them, forcing both Eloise and Penelope to move a bit to make way for him. He put his arm around both of their shoulder, grinning sheepishly.

“Hitchcock night without me? I think not,” he said.

Eloise pushed his arm away from her.

“If you have to stay, be quiet,” she said rolling her eyes at the fact he couldn’t go entertain himself.

Penelope offered him an apologetic smile on behalf of his sister. She didn’t force him to move his arm so he just let his hand give her shoulder a squeeze and left it there. Colin’s other hand maneuvered to grab a handful of their popcorn popping some into his mouth.

To his credit he did remain quiet through the end of the movie. It helped that the couch was small and with the three of them there, it was pretty cozy. Eloise fell asleep after a bit, veering into the arm rest. Penelope didn’t fall asleep but she did rest her head on Colin’s shoulder which he had no complaints about.

“Should we wake her up or drag her to her room?” Penelope finally asked breaking the silence once the movie was over, though she wasn’t exactly move. She was enjoying the proximity and the scent of Colin’s soap and cologne.

“She sleeps like the dead. I’m pretty sure we’re better off just leaving her be,” Colin told her quietly, careful to not speak too loudly and actually disturb the sleeping Eloise.

“We should at least get her a blanket,” Penelope suggested quietly.

Colin reached back with his free hand and grabbed on afghan from the back of the chair and put it over his sister.

“Does that meet your expectations?” he asked turning his focus back on the girl that was now absent from his shoulder.

“Definitely,” she told him with a smile.

He let a hand absently reach to play with a red curl that was looping extra haphazard, looping it around his finger.

“Are you tired?” he asked after a long moment of comfortable silence between them.

“Not particularly,” she told him.

“Take the party elsewhere? I have scrabble and some gin,” he offered after a long moment.

“You had me at scrabble,” she told him with a nod.

He forced himself up before offering her his hand so that she could climb to her feet as well. He wasn’t sure whether he kept his hand in hers longer than he should have or it was the other way around. He’d forgotten how soft and warm her hands were.

He gave sleeping Eloise another passing glance just to make sure she was actually good and asleep before leading the way out toward another room that housed the stacks upon stacks of well-used board games.

He flicked on the light once there, moving into motion to grab pillows and set them on opposing sides of an oversized coffee table. He then went and dug through the stacks until he found the scrabble board putting it on the coffee table.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he told her, smiling when Penelope sat down. She was honestly adorable between the pajamas bottoms and tank top she’d put on for the movie night with Eloise. He hadn’t quite paid attention before but he definitely was cognizant of the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. He wasn’t going to let himself stare though.

He was grateful for the fact she started unboxing the game and setting down the tiles which provided him time to grab the promised gin and two glasses. He set that down on the table before plopping himself down on the opposing side of the table.

“I’m not going to take it easy on you just because we’re friends,” Penelope said after a long moment, as he poured their glasses. He couldn’t help but laugh at that as he watched her shake the bag of tiles.

“I was going to say the same thing,” he teased before taking a swig of his drink. “I will, however, let you go first. Ladies first and all.”

Penelope gazed at the letters she’d down for a couple of moments. There were a couple basic words she could play but four letters stood out to her. She reached for her glass, downing it before placing the W,A,N,K down to spell ‘Wank’.

Colin couldn’t remotely hide way hid body practically shook with laughter at the fact Penelope had played that word.

“Oh hush. You play what you draw,” she said shaking her head. “Besides, I knew you wouldn’t need a dictionary to know the definition of that one.”

“Touché,” he said shaking the bag and grabbing his own letters. He smirked as he formulates his own word in retort. He played off the K. Adding a S,U,C. “Simple but gets across the point.”

She drew her replacement letters.

Her options were limited but she could pull off a word by adding I,N to his S. She was pretty sure SIN worked just as good as any other out there though.

“Not my best work but it fits,” she announced.

“You wouldn’t know the meaning of that one since you’re an angel and everything,” he teased as replenished his tiles and started to debate his next word.

He added R, E,A,M to his earlier C to spell CREAM.

“An angel would think you were talking about ice cream there,” she said raising an eyebrow.

“I could be but I’m not,” he said. “Even Lucifer was an angel though. Maybe I’m not the sex demon, you are.”

“I’m pretty sure that in order to be a sex demon, you have to actually be having sex,” she countered, looking particularly interested in her times before playing off the E and adding a D,E,P to form DEEP.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone right now?” Colin said after a minute in response to that. It somehow felt a little less creepy than telling her than any of the other thoughts that came to mind.

He played O,O, and N against the P to spell POON.

“No,” she said in response to his question before forming DILDO off one of his O’s. Penelope decided that this was one of those now or never moments and while she didn’t come right out and say it. This was as close as she’d ever been to straight up telling how she felt. “It’s kind of hard when you’re hung up on someone.”

Their eyes met and Colin’s jaw tightened.

“Maybe they’re into you too,” he said after a minute.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to form LIPS off the L she’d played but he did. He was certainly far more interested in her lips at this moment than the game. Maybe now was a good time to test out his little theory and see what she’d do if he made a move.

“In fact, I’d-“ he started to say but it was short lived. He was half-way to leaning across the board when the door opened with he jumped back on instinct. The scrabble tiles and whatever was left of his drink went flying.

“I woke up and no one was there,” Eloise said as she made her way in, examining the situation with suspicion. Her gaze moved from her brother to Penelope who looked remarkably guilty. “I was worried that you had gotten lost on the way to your room.”

“Of course not, I was just keeping Colin company,” Penelope said as she tried to help clean up the mess that was their former game that was clearly not getting finished. “It’s getting late though and we probably should get some sleep.”

“Colin can finish cleaning up the mess,” Eloise said, reaching for Penelope’s arm and practically dragging her up and away toward the door. Penelope turned her head to offer an apologetic gaze in his general direction as she was tugged away.

Colin was going to have to do something about all of this; especially the fact Eloise didn’t know how to read a room and get lost. For now, he boxed up the game, cleaned up the spill and went grab a cold shower before bed.

That was his only hope.

#polin #⚜ writings — polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

The Company

spencer reid x reader

Summary: When Derek’s presumed dead cousin turns up again the reader can’t help but feel guilty .

warnings: normal criminal minds things,

A/N: based on season 7 episode 20; this one was hard to write ngl

The warm shower water flowed through Y/N hair as she lazily ran her hands over it to rinse out the conditioner. The feeling of relief as she stood underneath the water made her sigh happily. When she stepped out, she wrapped a purple towel around her body and blow-dried her hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she grabbed her outfit that laid on her bed, a white tank paired with a taupe colored cardigan and some black pants. She did her makeup as normal and headed to the BAU office.

When she walked in, the atmosphere’s normal busy self greeted her. She smiled, for no particular reason, just a smile that made her feel good. Today was a good day, no clouds, just a bright sun that made her feel good.

“You seem perky, did something good happen?” Penelope’s sudden question as she approached beside Y/N made her jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the woman apologized.

“No, it’s okay, I seem perky just because I have a smile?” She laughed as she spoke.

“Smiles in here are rare as you know, so I can only assume that something grand has happened to you,” she explained. “Which is a contradiction to Derek.”

“What happened with Derek?” Y/N asked. Whatever smile she had was gone as she felt concerned for her friend.

“This is the part I tell you that you have a case, and are to head to the jet right now,” Penelope said, a sheepish smile on her face.

Y/N’s head fell back, truly she was hoping today she got to catch up on some paperwork. But she felt guilty for her selfishness as she walked towards the elevator ready to help Derek with whatever he needed.

When she got in the elevator she pulled out her phone and called Spencer.

“Hi,” Spencer said, answering the phone.

“Hey, are you at the jet?”

“Yeah, I just got here, I was about to call you to ask where you were,” he said, confessing his actions that she had beaten him too.

“I’m on my way there now.”

------------

“So your cousin fled Chicago eight years ago because a co-worker was stalking her?” Emily asked Derek on the phone.

The team, minus Derek, sat on the jet as they went over what little they had on the case of Derek’s missing Cousin. Who had been presumed dead for the last year.

“Yeah, a guy named John Hitchens,” Derek answered. “Cindi and Yvonne came to me and asked me if they should be worried, her emails and phone logs showed classic stalker behavior.”

“Multiple messages every hour, gifts he sent which she later returned, that would enrage a stalker,” Spencer said as he looked over the file.

“But until they become violent, they are smart enough to skirt the law,” Y/N said, reading over the file in hand. Her mind traveled back to when she could feel Caroline’s eyes on her. While she sat in a lecture, or at a coffee shop, she could feel her eyes bore into her skull. She began to feel sympathetic for Cindi as she related to her.

“Human resources at the investment bank wouldn’t do anything and Chicago P.D. couldn’t. So Yvonne and I convinced Cindi to move. She contacted us from Charleston on her way to Savannah and then she was gone,” Derek explained.

“And Hitchens blew his brain out two weeks later in Chicago,” Emily added from what she read in the file.

“And that was enough for local P.D. to conclude that he killed her?” Y/N’s voice spoke with question.

“Except for one major detail, we never found the body. If his endgame was suicide, he wasn’t organized enough to dispose of the body that permanently,” Derek continued. “That’s why I never stopped looking, I just never thought she’d surface right back here in Chicago.”

“We need to reopen both cases. Both Hitchen’s suicide and Cindi’s disappearance, the discrepancies in each will explain her current behavior,” Hotch said. “Morgan, I need to talk to you when we land.”

“Can’t wait.” Derek hung up the phone and the team looked over the files.

When the team landed they drove to the police station immediately to begin their work. Officers pulled old boxes from the case and Y/N and Spencer began to put the pictures up on the board.

“Detective Palmer, what do you have?” Rossi asked as the detective walked up to them.

“I wish we had more to give you,” Palmer spoke as he watched the two put what little evidence they had on the boards. “You know how missing person cases are.”

“Actually, there’s a lot more here then you would think,” Y/n said after placing a photo of Cindi on the board.

“These-” Spencer held up a picture as he placed it on the board- “were found in Hitchens apartment after the suicide. Some were blown up from the original film stock,” he explained as he taped another photo to the board.

“So if Hitchens took them, he didn’t zoom in. He's an old school shutterbug,” Emily said looking at Spencer.

“Reid and Y/N, look into Hitchens photographic background, even eight years ago most people had gone digital,” Hotch said, prompting the two to give thumbs-ups as a response.

“The gun Hitchens used to kill himself was traced to this dealer.” Rossi pointed to the picture of the man on the board.

“A local guy, completely by the book, no record,” Palmer said to him.

“The 44 was the only gun in Hitchens’ possession, that’s a big gun to kill yourself with,” JJ said, her face contorting with the end of her statement.

“We should talk to the dealer, figure out what his mindset was when he bought it,” Hotch said.

Rossi nodded his head and then to JJ telling her to come with him as they left the station.

----------

Derek stared at the boards with the pictures on them intently. Listening to the words of those around him as they said what was found on Cindi.

Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing what this was like for her friends when Caroline was tormenting and hiding her away. She couldn’t think about herself right now though, she had to focus. Derek needed the team, his family needed them, and she wasn’t going to let these little bottled up feelings obstruct that.

“So Cindi had two stalkers,” Derek said as he turned to those behind him.

“No, only one,” Y/N corrected.

“Ford fits the profile better than Hitchens,” Rossi explained.

“Ford had multiple assault and harassment charges, all filed by ex-girlfriends and random women he met,” JJ embellished on what Rossi said.

“And Garcia found credit card purchases for black and white photographic equipment for Ford,” Spencer added, relaying the information he and Y/N found.

“So this guy killed Hitchens and then set him up.” Derek’s voice was stern and certain as he came to the realization.

“Behaviorally, it would make sense,” Emily replied.

“If Ford was stalking you cousin, he would have seen Hitchens as competition probably,” Y/N continued the thought.

“So he kills him and he puts the photos to throw off your investigation,” Emily concluded.

“Hotch, I want to bring this guy in and question him personally,” Derek said, turning to Hotch.

“Garcia just sent us the address,” Hotch replied.

Y/N waited from a distance as Hotch spoke to Derek. When Hotch had finished she walked up to Derek.

“Hey, Morgan, listen I just want you to know I’m here for you, you know if you need to talk?” She looked at him with promising eyes, her hands wringing together from an old habit.

He smiled at her with his charming smile. “Thanks, wonder woman, let’s go.”

The team walked away from the boards and got ready to go confront Malcolm Ford.

----------------

“FBI!” Derek’s voice bombed through the house as they entered it.

Y/N followed behind Spencer as they walked up the stairs of the house to make sure the second floor was clear. Spencer walked into what looked to be the master and Y/N into the guest room. The room looked like it had never been touched, dust covering almost every item making her want to sneeze.

“It’s clear here!” Derek’s voice was slightly muffled from him being downstairs.

“Clear.” JJ’s voice was heard next.

“Clear,” Spencer’s voice said from the room next to Y/N.

“Clear,” Y/N said, holstering her gun and walking out of the room to follow Spencer downstairs.

“House is empty, but there’s evidence of a woman living here,” Spencer said as he and Y/N entered the living room.

Derek crouched in front of the fireplace, taking out a pair of gloves and reaching for the little remains of paper in the fireplace.

“Looks like they both packed up in a hurry,” JJ said.

“They were trying to cover their tracks,” Y/N said as she looked at the half-burnt paper Derek was holding up.

“What the hell is she doing with this guy?” Derek said inspecting the paper in his hand. His eyes were sad, as he felt guilt and sorrow for his cousin.

“I’ll call everyone else,” JJ said walking out of the room and pulling out her phone.

When everyone else arrived, Y/N sat next to Spencer in front of the fireplace, pulling out the bits and pieces of the paper that was left out.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Spencer said to detective Palmer as he picked up a headbox they had found and examined it.

Y/N turned her head to watch as Derek approached the man.

“What is it?” Palmer asked.

“It’s a- um, it’s a headbox,” Y/N answered. Her voice tone was uncomfortable as she knew what they were used for.

“He would take my cousin’s head-” Derek picked up the box and opened it- “and put it through the hole, and then he’d…” he pushed the box to close, showing how the latches would be retracted on themselves.

Y/N shook her head at the thought of someone being put through that. She looked over to Spencer to get her mind off it and watched as he stood up, intently reading a piece of burnt paper.

“Morgan, we need to deliver a profile,” Spencer said as he continued to read the burnt paper.

“Why, Reid?” Derek asked sternly.

Y/N then walked closer to Spencer to look at the paper. Her gloved covered hands reaching for it hesitantly before Spencer handed it to her and pointed to the part he had been inspecting.

“We know who the unsub is,” Derek continued.

“No, he’s right,” Y/N said agreeing with Spencer as she handed the paper back to Spencer for him to show Derek.

“We need to deliver the profile.” He showed the paper to Derek.

Derek grabbed the paper from Spencer’s hand, reading what the two had already done. The words yelling at him on the paper, telling of the acts his cousin was forced to be a part of and something else called the company.

“Let’s head back to the station,” Y/N said, prompting the two men to follow her out and to the cars.

------------

“After eight years in captivity at the hands of Malcolm Ford, we believe Cindi Burns’ ego has been shattered,” Y/N said as she began the profile.

“As a result, he could afford to give her some degree of freedom and trust that she would stay with him,” Emily continued.

“Which is why it’s going to be very difficult to get Cindi away from her captor,” Hotch explained. “We believe she’s suffering an extreme form of Stockholm syndrome.”

The officers in the room took notes diligently while they listened.

“Like Patty Hearst in the seventies, where she ended up robbing banks with her captor because of her Stockholm syndrome,” Y/N continued, giving an example that would hopefully be sufficient.

“Only this is worse, Ford has gotten Cindi to believe in something called the company,” Rossi said.

“What’s the company?” One of the officers asked, raising their hand politely.

“It’s a sadomasochistic role-play scenario, a game, essentially, in which a cabal of men tells their submissives they can trade their slaves at their whim. If you displease your master or try to escape, the company will find you, kill you, and kill your family, ” Spencer answered.

“The voluntary submissives understand that it’s just a fantasy, but Malcolm Ford has gotten Cindi to believe it’s real.” Hotch’s eyes scanned over the crowd as he spoke. Faces contorted in disgust and concern from the words of the profile.

“How?” Palmer asked.

“By making her sign a slave contract.” Y/N shuddered at her own words. The feeling of sorrow rising in her again for Cindi.

“The documentation we’ve found on the company informs our profile and will inform your manhunt,” Spencer began. “Because it might point you to where Malcolm Ford is now.”

“The language on their contract speaks of an underground network, which tells us that he has a few men he trusts,” JJ continued.

“Which means that what started as an S&M game could now be a ring,” Rossi said.

“Thank you.” The officers and others walked away to get back to their work. Y/N turned to Spencer, her lips pursed as she looked at him with the expression he knew all too well by now.

“Don’t feel guilty,” he told her. His voice wasn’t stern, but it was strong in a comforting way.

“I don’t think it’s guilt, I feel for her, I mean-” she looked around to see if anyone was in ears reach of her and Spencer- “I was basically held captive by a stalker, I hid away from everyone for years, I just, I want to help her.” Her sentence finished with a huff, finally feeling like she could breathe.

“I know, it’s what makes you a great person, always wanting to help others.” His smile reassured her.

She placed her hands on her face, rubbing her cheeks to snap out of her funk and get back on the case.“Thanks, I needed that, let’s catch this son of a bitch.” He nodded in response as the two began to look over the documents again and find out all they could.

---------------

“Is he in there?” Y/N asked as she walked up next to JJ. They stood outside of the bullpen of the interrogation room, both waiting for Hotch who had texted them to meet him there.

“Yeah, I think he wants us to start the interrogation, throw him off his game,” JJ said, looking over to Y/N.

Y/N nodded, saying that she understood.

Hotch then walked out to them, his face as serious as normal. “I need you two to throw him off, he’s expecting Derek but we don’t want to give him what he wants or expects. Just make it seem casual okay?”

The two nodded and walked to the bullpen. Y/N grabbed the Minella folder from Rossi, silently thanking him with a nod.

“Just start talking, like how we do in the mornings.” JJ nodded as she waited for Y/N to nod for her to start as the officer opened the door.

“So when I get home and, of course, he’s still up past his bedtime,” JJ said, her hands going up as the two walked to the seats.

“Uh, reminds me of why I’m not married yet,” Y/N said, laughing as she took a seat next to JJ.

“Oh, well, neither am I, technically,” JJ said, correcting Y/N.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “You’re right.”

Y/N placed her elbow on the table, turning her head away from Malcolm in the seat as she looked at JJ.

“Do you guys ever--”

“Oh, no, I really don’t need a man to tell me what to do,” JJ said, cutting Y/N off.

“Yeah, well that’s why things between me and Spence work great.” The two laughed as they just chatted, ignoring the man on the opposite side of the table. “I mean he does his thing, I do mine, we don’t have any problems re--”

“Excuse me?” Malcolm said, cutting Y/N off.

“Shh,” Y/N said, holding her finger to her lips. “Uh, the adults are talking.” Y/N pointed between her and Y/N.

“When it’s your turn to speak, I’ll give you permission.” JJ used the words that he would as a tactic to throw him off. “Okay, so anyway…” JJ trailed off as the two began to talk again.

“Oh, yeah, any sleep?”

“Uh, no, of course not.” JJ laughed at her words while Y/N turned to the file letting out a noise of annoyance at the thought.

“What are we doing here anyway?” Y/N asked, opening the file on the table.

“Oh, yeah,” JJ said, turning completely forward to face Malcolm.

“Oh okay so, Mal, can I call you that, cause I’m going too, you want to confess now or just go straight to prison your choice really.” Y/N folded her hands together as she faced the man across the table.

“Look, my wife and I had a disagreement in that store-” Malcolm began but he was cut off by JJ.

“Whoa- wife?” JJ asked, her words fake to throw him off.

“You’re married?” Y/N’s lip turned up at the thought. “No, no, this is about John Hitchens, it looks like his suicide is more of a murder and the gun, it traces back to you.” She pointed to the man with her pen that she held.

Malcolm’s once cocky demeanor was now broken slightly, realizing what he thought he was here for.

The two waited for a response, seeing as he was silent, they made their next move.

“Okay, uh, let’s go talk to this wife,” JJ said, standing up from the table, Y/N following suit.

“I don’t know who this Hitchens person is, but if you had anything you’d charge me already,” Malcolm said. Y/N and JJ turned back to look at him as he spoke. “You’re here because of Cindi.”

“Caught us,” Y/N said shrugging her shoulders with a laugh.

“You know what?” JJ said pointing to Malcolm as she sat down again. “This is my favorite part. This is where you hang yourself with your own tongue. So, please keep talking.”

The two women sat poised in their seats as they looked at the man. Gentle smiles on their faces they had before gone as they now had serious ones.

“What are you doing here?” Malcolm asked JJ. “With a baby at home being raised by a man you’re not married to, what are you doing here.” His words were judgmental, but JJ kept a calm face.

“Well, its work. But we make it work,” JJ answered the man, her voice calm.

“Where’s Cindi?” Y/N asked.

“Huh, work, I know all about work,” Malcolm scuffed, ignoring the question. “Negotiating who does the dishes, fighting over who folds the laundry. Except for Cindi and I never fight, she knows her role.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “After you beat her into signing a contract,” her words were calm and collected, not wanting to show Malcolm he was truly enraging her.

“What we have is a bond you know nothing about,” he said, eyes looking directly at Y/N. “But I’ll tell you about it-” his head then turned to look at JJ- “if you ask permission.”

JJ let out a laugh through her nose, never breaking eye contact with Malcolm.

Y/N chuckled, grabbing the file on the table. “Come on,” she said, standing up from the table walking to the door.

She watched as JJ played her next move, staying seated at the table.

“You’re curious, aren’t you?” Malcolm asked her. “You want to know our secret.” His head nodded as he rocked in his chair.

JJ just sat there, not moving for a second, until she tapped her hand on the table and stood up and walked to the door. Y/N opened it and led the two of them out of the room.

“I wanted to rip his face off,” Y/N stated once the door was closed.

“Please, let me go back in there,” JJ asked Hotch as they walked to him by the mirror.

“No.” Hotch’s voice was stern with his answer.

“His guard is down, he thinks he can manipulate me,” JJ said, pointing to herself.

“We can’t give him what he wants,” Hotch reminded her. “We need to keep him off balance.”

“Then let me go in,” Derek said entering the room.

Y/N’s face softened as she saw Derek enter. He looked distraught that he didn’t find his cousin, but also determined as he pushed forward in doing so.

“I can get in his head.”

“The way he got into yours?” Rossi asked referring back to when they found Malcolm.

“Look, I know I have no right to ask this, but please just trust me. I can break him.” Derek’s words were mostly to Hotch as he looked at him.

Hotch nodded, allowing Derek to then walk into the room and begin his interrogation.

-----------

Y/N stood behind Emily and Spencer who sat across from Malcolm’s lawyer and Cindi, who was very much alive and serious. She watched her demeanor, trying to spot any changes in emotions or stance as they sat in the room.

“We’ve been clear that we would like all charges dropped,” the lawyer said. His nasally voice made Y/N want to punch him. One because he was defending the egotistical prick in the other room, and two, because his face annoyed her, and she couldn’t deal with his voice.

“We still have some questions about John Hitchens,” Y/N stated, placing her hands onto the back of Spencer's chair to lean on it.

“And Mr. Ford has explained that the gun that Hitchens used to shoot himself was stolen, he even filed a police report,” the lawyer retorted, making Y/N internally roll her eyes.

Her eyes went back to Cindi, who was just staring blankly at the ground.

“So, what else do you need to know?”

Cindi then made eye contact with Emily, but when Emily turned her head in question, Cindi’s eyes averted.

“That’ll be all,” Spencer said standing up. The lawyer and Cindi did so also and exited the room.

“Did you see that?” Y/N said to Emily in a whisper as they began to walk out of the room.

“Yeah, I did.” The three walked out of the room, looking over to Hotch who raised a brow. Emily shook her head in response to the question, telling him that something was up.

Y/N, Spencer, and Emily walked over to a desk where JJ sat and began to talk.

“Was there anything?” JJ asked, hoping it was something that they could use to keep him here.

“No, but something was off with Cindi,” Spencer said, sitting on the desk in front of him.

Y/N stood next to JJ as the four began to discuss something, but her attention was soon brought away as Malcolm was brought out of the holding room.

“Guys,” she whispered, getting their attention to Cindi as she walked up and kissed Malcolm. Their faces sat in shocked expressions at what just happened.

Their eyes followed as they grabbed each other's hands and walked towards the door.

“There’s gotta be something that’s keeping her with him,” Emily said as she turned to the others.

“Yeah, but what?” Spencer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Wait!” Yvonne said as she saw the two.

“I can’t talk to you,” Cindi said, her eyes turning to Malcolm’s feet.

Malcolm then whispered something to Cindi along the lines of trusting her.

“Let me just-- let me just look at you,” Yvonne said, timidly approaching Cindi. When she approached, she had a smile of relief on her face, finally able to see her daughter after so long. Her hand reached up, and pulled down Cindi’s turtle neck, seeing all the different bruises all over.

“Oh,” Yvonne whimpered. “What has he done to you?”

“He loves me,” Cindi responded, pulling her collar back up onto her neck.

“You call that love?” Yvonne asked aggressively.

“I have to go,” Cindi turned, tears in her eyes clearly evident but she wouldn’t let them spill. “I have to make him dinner.”

“Make him dinner? Would that be the first thing you would say?” Y/N asked her colleagues.

They all shook their heads, knowing something was definitely up.

------------

“We need to rethink the profile, this ain’t Stockholm,” Rossi said as they sat around the conference table.

“It could be battered wife syndrome,” Emily posed.

“No, it’s not,” Derek said.

“Morgan, the way that they hugged each other, I-I think she genuinely loves him,” JJ concluded from her observations, that fact.

“I’m telling you not the woman I know, she wouldn’t do that,” Derek defended his reasoning.

“Then what is it, Derek? Why would she behave that way?” Rossi asked him.

“She said she needed to cook dinner for him. Is that what you cook for your husband?” Derek held up the small can of spaghettios. He then showed it to JJ. “Would you make that for Will?”

“No, I might for Henry, though,” JJ answered.

“Exactly, when I was growing up, this is what Cindi and I ate, this exact brand,” Derek said, his voice strong as he came out with his thoughts. “Hotch, what did your mom make you for breakfast?”

“Oatmeal and orange juice,” Hotch answered.

“What do you make for Jack?”

“Oatmeal and orange juice.”

“Same brand?”

“Mm-hmm, yeah,” Hotch said, realizing what the conclusion Derek was coming through.

“So, she could have been cooking dinner, but not for Malcolm Ford,” Y/N said, her mind thinking the same thing.

“So are we saying we think they have children?” Emily asked.

“Yes, I do,” Derek answered. Y/N nodded in agreement as she thought the same thing.

“We didn’t profile that, there’s no evidence of one in the home or their lives,” Spencer said.

“Unless, Malcolm keeps the child hidden from Cindi to keep her in line,” Y/N contoured as she gave it more thought.

“That fits the profile,” JJ embellished.

“It’s a stretch,” Rossi stated, unsure of what they were claiming.

“It’s the only theory that would explain her behavior,” Derek said looking at Rossi.

“All right, Morgan,” Hotch said, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Prove it.”

--------------

The sirens were loud as the team and S.W.A.T. pulled up to the cabin where Derek found they kids were being held from the lawyer. When they hopped out of the cars, Derek went around front to go look for Cindi and the kids.

JJ and Y/N went around back to go see if anyone was back there.

“You get anything JJ,” Y/N whispered to her as they stood in the woods behind the house.

She shook her head, but then her eyes went wide as she heard movement and Derek yelling Cindi’s name.

“Come on, baby, talk to me, Cindi, it’s Derek,” Derek’s voice said. JJ and Y/N stayed back hidden behind a tree, not wanting to be seen by Malcolm.

They heard the struggles of Derek as he was grabbed by Malcolm, his gun flying across the forest floor. Y/N flinched to go help, but JJ stopped her and told her Derek had it. He did, but then Cindi’s voice was heard along with the unlocking of the safety on a gun.

“Stop!” Cindi commanded Derek who was throwing blows at Malcolm.

“Cindi, wait,” Derek said calmly, holding his hand up to her. “He’s gotten you to believe in a lie, the company is not real.” His voice was pleading to her as he tried to make her believe him.

“I know, Derek, step aside,” Cindi said, moving the gun with the light on it to the side.

Dere stood up from over Malcolm’s unconscious body, grabbing the gun in Cindi’s hand. He pulled the gun away from her, sad eyes now rejoiceful as he saw his cousin how he knew her.

“Let’s go home.” Derek’s voice was soft, but still strong.

Malcolm then quickly stood up, but JJ and Y/N were quick to step in front of him. Guns aimed and ready to shoot if necessary.

“Hi,” JJ said with a smirk.

“Malcolm Ford,” Y/N said, holstering her gun then grabbing out her handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping, child endangerment, and the murder of John Hitchens.” The whole time Y/N was arresting Malcolm, his eyes never left JJ.

The two women grabbed each one of his arms and began guiding him to the car to take him back to the station.

“So, um…” JJ began. “Can you tell me that secret now?”

When they got back to the station, Y/N walked in happily and went to talk to Spencer.

“This is what makes it all better in the end,” Y/N said, watching a Cindi and her mom reunited. She laid the side of her head on Spencer’s arm who leaned on the desk next to her. Smile on her face as she got to watch the happy moment.

“It is,” Spencer agreed. His eyes panned down to her on his arm, being able to relax knowing she felt better now and didn’t feel guilt. “You know you can’t feel guilty in every stalker case, you couldn’t help what happened with you.”

Y/N sighed, knowing he was right and that she shouldn't but sometimes she couldn’t help it. “I know, but there’s always gonna be a piece of a case I relate too, some more than others.”

Spencer leaned down and kissed the top of her head. A silent reassurance that he understood what she was saying and he accepted it.

Y/N smiled at the feeling of his warmth. She felt content at that moment, like nothing could break it. And nothing would, but as things work out, good moments can only last so long.

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cc-pdf · 4 years

Text

What’s It Like In New York City?

Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Quirkless rock band au

Based off of the song, Hey There Delilah

Word count: 2913

Warnings: Slight alcohol use. Nothing to be worried about though.

After a long day at university you decided you deserved a night out on the town. Although you had piles of homework to do, you decided to put that all aside and just relax and have a few drinks. You grabbed your big winter coat and stepped out of campus into the swirling cold winter outside. L Street Tavern was one of the closest bars to your campus, so you decided to settle down there. Plus, they always have live music there, even better.

After a short walk through the blistering cold air you had finally arrived at the historic bar. You noticed a flyer on the window it read,

"Sex Bob Omb playing tonight."

You had never heard of them before. It was probably just some local band. You stepped through the bars creaking door and took a seat on one of the oak stools. There were only a few other people at the bar. Most of them were probably in their mid 40s or 50s. You had given them a slight wave when you sat down just to be friendly. They had waved back, but then quickly returned back to their conversations. You weren't really looking for people to talk to, you just wanted to relax after the stressful day.

After a couple of drinks you heard the tuning of a guitar in the corner. You looked over to see a couple people in the corner. They were dressed like classic teenage band members. Black jeans, skate shoes, a random t-shirt they found in the back of their closet. You examined each member. A spiky blond seemed to be the lead. He was tuning his guitar and had a microphone stood in front of him. Behind him was a short black haired girl behind a microphone. She seemed to be the backup singer. The last person was a crazy red haired boy at the drums. It seemed like your typical band that probably practices in the garage. You loved those types of bands. Something about them just seemed so raw and authentic.

A few moments later you jumped to the sound of the red hair banging his drum sticks together.

"ONE TWO THREE GO!" He yelled signaling the band to start.

You never really thought a band like this would be playing at a historic bar in the middle of a harsh Boston winter. But, bands really will play wherever they can nowadays. They have to try and get any recognition they can.

"This is the beginning of the song." The blond muttered into the microphone with his raspy voice. "I'm hearing voices, animal voices. The creme da la creme. the feminine abyss. And I'm reaching my threshold. Staring at the truth till i'm blind." He began lazily singing with the sound of a rough, badly tuned guitar.

The lyrics weren't too bad for just some random band. You actually thoroughly enjoyed the sound of such a band like this. You could see the the crazy red hair banging at the broken down set of drums releasing all of his anger. It made you giggle a bit.

"My body's stupid, stereo putrid. Spilling out music into raw sewage." The girl jumped into sing. She surprisingly had a pretty good voice, although it didn't really suit the vibe of the band.

"Reaching my threshold. Staring at the truth till I'm blind." They all sang together. They repeated the same verses a couple more times. When the song had ended you could tell they were all out of breath from the loud performance. They were panting like dogs on a hot summer day.

"WE ARE SEX BOB OMB!!!" The girl yelled out to the bar while raising her hands in the air.

"I hope you guys enjoyed, but we've lost all of our breath for tonight, peace." The blond said while walking into the back room. Most people started clapping and cheering, some people were booing them at the fact they only played one song, but you just returned to your bitter cold beer in front of you. The cold alcohol entering your stomach calmed you from your hard day.

A few moments later the band members took a seat at the bar near you. It seemed they just wanted a few drinks after that harsh performance.

"Miller Lite, please." The spiky blond said to the bar tender under his raspy tone.

"Same here." The other two members said. The bar tender poured the three drinks and slid them across the bar to them.

"You like the show?" The blond looked over and asked to you, as you sipped your cold drink.

"Yeah, wasn't expecting such a lame band to go this hard." You said looking over to him.

"Hey, we try our best to look professional here." He snapped back at you.

"I'm just teasing." You said focusing back on your drink.

"So, you from around here?" He said with his masculine tone.

"I go to university near here, but I'm originally from New York City." You said fiddling with the rim of your drink.

"The big apple, huh? Must've been rough living there." He responded.

"Not really..." You said taking a sip of your beer.

"We're from around here. Cambridge to be exact. We spend a lot of time over in Boston though. Trying to get a good gig." He explained while taking another sip of his Miller Lite.

"I'm sure you'll get a gig. You're pretty good." You said trying to sound nice.

"Thanks. Maybe you can come watch us here again sometime." He said passing you a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket with their schedule printed on it.

"Thanks, but I'm leaving the city for a few weeks to visit family back in New York. Maybe I'll see you after. My names y/n, by the way." You said looking into his bright crimson eyes while grabbing the schedule. You could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Oh, well that's a downer. You must be pretty busy with school too..." He said trailing off.

"Damnit Bakugou, stop flirting with the poor girl." The red hair chipped in. The girl laughed along.

"Shut up you prick, at least she's not a whore. I'm not even flirting." He snapped at them while getting up to go to the bathroom.

After he had came back things were pretty quiet after the remark the red hair had made.

About a half hour later you decided you should start heading back to campus. It was 12:30 and you needed some rest.

"Hey, I'll try and come see your band when I come back." You said waving to them as you walked out the door.

"See ya!" The blond said with that tired voice of his.

"Yeah, see ya." The other two trailed along.

You knew you probably wouldn't see them again because you're always so hung up with school. It didn't really matter to you anyways, they were just some random band at the bar.

Little did you know, the ash blond, Katsuki Bakugou, thought you were absolutely stunning. With that perfect h/l, h/c hair of yours, your big, e/c eyes, and your little smile, you were nothing but perfect to him. You were stuck in his mind for the next few weeks. You weren't some crazy little fake fan girl looking to fuck for once. You seemed genuine.

You had pinned the schedule he gave you onto the cork board in your dorm. Although you didn't really care too much to go and see them again, maybe it would be nice to check and see if they're still playing at L Street Tavern when you get back.

Only a couple days later you got on the bus to New York. It was a long ride, but it was worth it all in the end. You desperately wanted to see your family after 4 long months of living alone at school.

A couple weeks after your encounter with Katsuki Bakugou you still hadn't left his mind. Your beautiful name was glued to his brain. He decided to tune up his guitar and start a song about you. He liked to get his thoughts out by writing songs. It calmed him. He started with a simple,

"Hey there y/n, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty." He thought it sounded cheesy, but he continued writing it anyways. He enjoyed the sound of a rough acoustic guitar against a sweet love song. He had never written a song like this before, it was all so new to him. He usually wrote songs about his anger or hate for people, usually engaging in more of a hard rock, or head bangers.

A couple days later he decided to find an open mic to play the song at. He was pretty proud of the new tune and couldn't help but share it. He found an open mic session at a small family owned restaurant right around the corner from L Street Tavern. He was worried you might show up and hear the song, but he remembered, you were staying in New York for a pretty long time.

The night of the open mic had come. He stepped into the tiny restaurant and sat down at a table with his guitar. There was quite a few people at the restaurant that night. He hoped they would like his newly crafted love song.

Eventually, he stepped into the space with the cheap microphone and pulled his guitar strap over his shoulder.

"I wrote this song for a girl that's been stuck in my mind for the past few weeks. I hope you enjoy." He said into the microphone.

Authors note - Hey, I would suggest maybe listening to Hey There Delilah by Plain White Ts during this part :) okay back to the story.

He started gently strumming his guitar to a rhythm.

"Hey there y/n what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes you do. Times square can't shine as bright as you. I swear, it's true." He began the song with his lazy guitar playing. He continued the song. He could tell most of the people in the restaurant enjoyed the honesty behind the lyrics. It made him happy someone was enjoying his work.

"Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. What you do to me." He led on with the catchy bridge.

"Hey there, y/n. I know times are gettin' hard. But just believe me, girl. Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar. We'll have it good. We'll have the life we knew we would. My word is good." Bakugou carried on.

"Hey there, y/n. I've got so much left to say. If every simple song I wrote to you. Would take your breath away. I'd write it all. Even more in love with me you'd fall. We'd have it all." He went on, after that singing the bridge again.

"A thousand miles seems pretty far. But they've got planes and trains and cars. I'd walk to you if I had no other way. Our friends would all make fun of us. And we'll just laugh along because we'd know. That none of them have felt this way. Y/n, I can promise you. That by the time that we get through. The world will never ever be the same. And you're to blame." He sang emotionally while strumming along.

"Hey there, y/n. You be good, and don't you miss me. Two more years and you'll be done with school. And I'll be makin' history like I do. You know it's all because of you. We can do whatever we want to. Hey there, y/n, here's to you. This one's for you." After this he slowly ended the lovely song with the bridge,

"Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. Oh, it's what you do to me. What you do to me, oh oh, woah, woah. Oh woah, oh. Oh." He sang softly, ending the song by strumming all of the strings on his beat up guitar.

After he had finished the sweet tune someone came up to him.

"Hey kid, that song you played was actually pretty good. The lyrics and rhythm were amazingly catchy. No one can ever go wrong with a classic love song. Maybe I can help you get big. I know some people in the industry. I came here to find some new musicians, actually." The mysterious figure said to him.

Bakugou was in shock. He knew people liked his music. But not to the point where somebody like this would notice him. Especially this song. It was just some overly cheesy love song.

"Thanks." He said not knowing what to say. He was speechless.

"Here, give me a call." He said while slipping his business card over to the blond.

Of course later that night he couldn't help but call the guy. He had never heard anything like this from someone.

Y/n was nearing the end of her trip. She was sitting in her Mother's car on the way to the bus station back to Boston. She couldn't help but over hear the radio.

"Hey we have a new love song from this band called Sex Bob Omb. I thought it was pretty good, how about we give it a play." You couldn't believe what you just heard, so you immediately turned up the volume on the radio. You could hear that spiky blond's classic voice over the sound of a relaxed, acoustic guitar. It seemed very unlike the band to have a song like this, or even be on the radio.

"Hey there y/n, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but, girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes you do." The song started out gently. You jumped at these lyrics. You thought you were dreaming. But you weren't...

"Mom, I think this song is about me..." You said trying not to sound insane.

"Sweetie, it's just some song on the radio I'm sure you're over thinking it." She said calmly.

"No, Mom, I saw this band at the tavern a few weeks ago. The lead singer was talking to me at the bar." You denied her.

"I'm sure it's just a coincidence." She said keeping her eye on the road.

"Times Square can't shine as bright as you. I swear, it's true." You softened at these lyrics. The way he wrote them... It made you feel like you were the only girl in the world that mattered.

"Hey there, y/n. Don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice, it's my disguise. I'm by your side." You couldn't help but feel like he was actually by your side, like he stated. You wished he could sing this to you, with that guitar of his, while looking you in the eyes. You really were falling for some mysterious guy. You would have never thought you would fall for some rebellious band member... or someone that you barely even knew. Music had never moved you in a way like this, it was so connecting, yet unexpected.

Finally, You had made it back to your campus. You rushed up to your dorm to see that schedule he gave you. You wanted to see him again. The lyrics of the song made you melt. It warmed your heart. Making you fall for the random blond even more. Thankfully, the band was booked pretty far ahead on the schedule.

A few nights later you caught yourself back at L Street Tavern hoping to see them there. You were sure they wouldn't be there now that they had made it on the radio. But it didn't hurt to try and see if they would be there.

Unexpectedly you heard the sweet voice of the girl scream,

"WE ARE SEX BOB OMB!"

You turned around and made eye contact with the blond. His face flourished red. You couldn't stop staring into his glistening crimson eyes.

"Wait, it's y/n." He said walking over to you, stopping the other band members.

"The girl you wrote the song about? I thought that was just a made up name." The red hair said furrowing his eyebrows.

"You came..." He said looking into your love struck eyes.

I really wanted to make a story inspired by this song so I hope you liked it. :)

Please comment some more songs you would like me to write stories about.

Also yes I got the name Sex Bob Omb and the song they sang is from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World hehe. Also, L Street Tavern is a real bar in Boston!

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matth1w · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Say - Chapter 1

(Gif Credit)

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Summary: You and Obi-Wan stand on the edge of something more than friendship. With Anakin in your ear and a special gift from Obi-Wan, will you finally admit your feelings?

Warnings: Typical slow burn angst

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 2,837 words

Note: I took some liberties and I’m not an expert in Star Wars so apologies in advance if any terminology or anything is incorrect.

For: my dear friend @commander-writergirl’s #800CelebrationChallenge / I chose the song prompt I Won’t Say (I’m In Love) from Hercules

A soft knock on your door stirred you out of the book you had been reading. The climatic scene was unfolding between two classical lovers who were finally professing their undying love for one another. If you couldn’t live out your desires, you could at least read about them.

“Come in!” you announced as you shut the book and shifted in your chair. You knew it could only be a handful of people at this time, even less being so polite as to knock (looking at you, Anakin Skywalker).

You didn’t try to contain the joy on your face when Obi-Wan stepped through the door. You quickly stood and rushed to embrace him. Something you only felt certain enough to do after long or dangerous missions and in private places.

Obi-Wan chuckled underneath your touch as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

“Careful, my dear.” He murmured in his low comforting voice against your hair.

You pulled back, letting your hand rest on his arm as you examined his face.

“Are you hurt?”

This brought another sparkling laugh from Obi-Wan.

“No, no. I’m perfectly fine.” He explained with a wry smile, “I just didn’t want you to crush your present.”

Your face lit up at the mention of a present and a slight blush rose up your cheeks.

Obi-Wan smiled at you as he moved the arm that was behind his back and held a small potted plant in front of him. It was a trio of small, delicate white flowers adorned with smatterings of blue and purple.

“It’s beautiful!” You whispered in adoration and genuine surprise. You had never seen a flower like it. And it of course meant that much more coming from your favorite Jedi.

Had you not been so enamored by the floral gift, you would have flinched at the electricity that ran through you as your fingers brushed against Obi-Wan’s as you accepted the present.

“Do you like it?” Obi-Wan mused. You looked up at his affectionate eyes that had been examining your reaction and giggled.

“Of course I do!” You admonished, but it was without malice as you truly loved the easy teasing between you two.

Obi-Wan moved to stroke his beard as he nodded, trying to maintain a semblance of control over his facial expressions and busy his hands that yearned to reach out and touch you.

He cleared his throat, trying to rid his head of distracting thoughts.

“It’s a unique thing. It’s called an Evening Primrose. It opens up during the nighttime then shuts when the sun rises.”

You examined the flower curiously, turning it in your hands. You had never heard of such a thing. You wondered for a moment if it had medicinal uses.

“To be quite honest, when I saw it, I couldn’t help but think of you, my little night owl.”

Your head shot up and you were certainly blushing at the nickname. Obi-Wan had never called you anything like that before, and certainly never looked at you with such tenderness either.

You tore your eyes away, looking down to the flower below. And in a desperate attempt to maintain the light atmosphere, rather than delve into anything that could be perilous, you returned once more to light hearted banter.

“Not everyone can be as early a riser like you, Obi-Wan.” Your lips curled into a content, albeit secretly saddened smile and his soon matched yours at the surface.

“But then who would bring you breakfast when you sleep in?” Obi joked back and you had to laugh at that, the tension easing from your body.

“I would say Anakin but I know he struggles as much as I do most days.”

Obi-Wan sighed at that and once again brought his hand to his chin.

“Yes, he’s become much less strict about his morning meditation since he’s become a Knight.”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world.” You chided. “You should try it sometime, you might like it.”

The unintentional double meaning behind your words made Obi’s smile turn upside down for a fraction of a second, it would not have been noticeable if you weren’t so close to him or had known him for so long.

The room became silent for a moment as you struggled with what you should say and Obi-Wan seemed to do the same.

You met his eyes hesitantly and lifted the potted primrose up.

“Thank you for the gift, Obi. It was very thoughtful of you.”

He smiled, that soft, melancholic smile that never reached his eyes that appeared often during moments like this.

“Of course.”, he said quietly, his voice low and weak.

Fearing nothing was left to say than things neither of you were ready to speak aloud, he nodded.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He reached his hand out to rest on your shoulder and smiled more genuinely and lightly this time. The familiar sparkle of lighthearted teasing covering the misery brewing within them.

“I’ll need to get my rest if I’m to wake up before you. Though I suppose it won’t be too hard.”

He tauntingly grinned at you and you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything but his light touch and the unspoken words and emotions that desperately tried to surface around you.

“Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan nodded with a gentlemanly smile and bowed before he turned on his feet and exited your room.

In the quiet air, your fingers caressed the smooth terra-cotta underneath them as you brought the flower up to your nose to take in its sweet aroma.

—————

The soft chimes of your alarm stirred you from your slumber. It had been peaceful and calm night of rest, taking away your worries and repeating thoughts and replacing them with lovers dreams.

You shifted onto your side, admiring the now closed flowers. They were a beautiful sight to behold, even now, and one you could get used to seeing each time you opened your eyes.

Your heart pained at how you would much rather see a different view each morning, a pair of light blue eyes, but you fervently pushed the image away.

—————

Today had been a slow day in the medical bay, the hours crept on like thick mud. Thankfully, the evening and end of your shift were finally arriving as you thrummed your fingers on the table beside you. You had finished your rounds on the longer term patients and just finished typing up your last report on your datapad.

You heard one of your coworkers call your name. They didn’t sound panicked, moreso tired and annoyed so you didn’t worry but walked their way nonetheless.

When you reach the front of the wing, you saw Anakin standing with a mischievous smile alongside your much less energized coworker.

A slight tinge of pity hit you, Denoto, the veteran medical assistant had been there for nearly 12 hours today. You glanced at your watch to check the time. There were only a few minutes left in your shifts and the new wave had already arrived.

“You can go, Denoto,” you notified him with a smile that hopefully had seemed compassionate. You two didn’t much get along and you knew he envied your position as Head Medic.

The man gave a curt nod in response and walked past Anakin without a second look.

You rolled your eyes at the grumpy old man with Anakin and turned around.

“Come on,” you waved him back and heard him quickly follow, his boots sharp on the hardened floor.

Anakin cleared his throat as he caught up to walk in line with you.

“I got a bit scratched up on our mission. I think it’s fine...” his voice lowered as he leaned in with a sly smile, “but Padme insisted you check it.”

You smiled back, “She’s typically right. Let me see.” You had reached your destination and patted the bed beside you for him to hop up on.

He lifted his sleeve to reveal a minor wound on his shoulder. It was nothing to be worried about, but it could use some cleaning as it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned properly.

It wouldn’t surprise you, Anakin was reckless and once countered your reprimands with the claim that if he tended to his own wounds, you wouldn’t get to see him as often.

You settled into the familiar process and Anakin leaned back and closed his eyes. You didn’t mind, the silence was comfortable due to your strong friendship.

“So,” his voice broke the silence, mischief apparent in the one word alone.

You looked up to see him looking at you with those interrogating eyes and you turned around to pull out a bacta pad from the drawer behind you. You had a feeling you knew what he wanted to talk about.

“Did Obi-Wan give you your gift?” His voice was playful and teasing, like only a best friend’s could.

You blushed as you turned back around, even though you willed your face and emotions to stay neutral and didn’t meet his eyes, though you could feel them practically burning a hole in you.

He chuckled, “I take that as a yes.”

Your eyes flitted to his momentarily then back at the wound. You knew Anakin wouldn’t leave well enough alone so you gave in with a sigh.

“Yes he did. I assume you had a role in it?”

You poked him with your finger, outside his wound but he still flinched as it tickled him slightly, a satisfied smile blossoming on your lips.

His signature troublemaker smile came back slowly, like he was relishing in the moment.

“Actually, no. The first I knew of it was when we were boarding the ship back.”

You blushed at that. It was harder to dismiss the gift as simply your friend’s meddling if he had no part in it.

You silently took off your gloves, standing to dispose of them in the bin, and patted Anakin’s covered shoulder. You didn’t want to think too much about it. And certainly didn’t want to hear any more of Anakin’s thoughts on the matter.

“Just a small infection.” You were pleased with the neutrality of your voice.

“Come back tomorrow to get fresh gauze. But otherwise, no one needs to worry about you.” Your voice and eyes softened as you finished.

He smiled gratefully, thankful for your abilities and confidence.

“Thank you.”

Anakin took your hand and looked seriously at you a moment before speaking in a hushed tone.

“Obi-Wan cares about you, you know.”

“Of course he does,” you sighed as you softly pulled your hand away and fidgeted with the roll of gauze you were packing away. “But no more than he cares about you or Ashoka. He probably is only kind because I tend to his injuries and don’t get all starry eyed around him or the other Jedi.”

“But...” he interjected.

“He’s a friend, Anakin. Nothing more.” Your voice grew stronger, more stubborn.

“Not like you...” you lowered your voice before your continued. “... and Padme.”

Anakin shook his head in exasperation and scoffed quietly.

“Whatever you say, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

His playful smile returned and you knew there were no hard feelings between you two.

“You better!” You chastised as you playfully swatted him.

A laugh is shared between you two before Anakin bows out and you’re left with your own spiraling thoughts, trying to decipher the meaning of Obi-Wan’s gift.

—————

You had tried to sleep, a bit earlier than usual but you couldn’t stop admiring the primrose on the windowsill. One of your perks of your role as head medic was that you had a corner room that was tucked away down a long hall and had a small window.

The flowers nearly glowed in the soft moonlight, and you couldn’t help but be taken with the beautiful, unique flowers. But also, more truly, what they represented.

A gift from Obi-Wan.

It wasn’t the first but certainly the most thoughtful, more-so now that you knew he brought it to you without any heavy-handed suggestion from Anakin.

You had to admit you were a bit disappointed that you hadn’t seen him today. You cursed yourself for the silly notion. You had just seen him yesterday. Although, it had been brief, and you wanted to hear more about his mission.

Yes, that was why you were disappointed. You wanted to hear about the mission. You laughed bitterly at the lie you were telling yourself and pictured Anakin calling you out on it if he was here.

A bit frustrated and knowing sleep wouldn’t come to you just yet, you sighed and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You stared at the flower a few minutes more before you decided to stretch your legs.

You didn’t know much about how to care for the flower but you thought the soil could give you a clue. Shuffling over to the pot, you determined it was watered enough. But the shine of the flower entranced you once more and you allowed yourself to daydream for just a moment.

You imagined planting it in the small garden in your backyard. You would tend to it and the other flowers and plants while Obi-Wan sat by the small pond meditating or reading.

You two would share lunches outside in the garden when the weather permitted and there would be a bench upon which you both could sit. And as the moon rose and the primrose bloomed, you would admire the stars, Obi pointing out which planets were which and telling you stories about the ones he had visited.

You blinked, the yearning pain in your heart bringing you back to reality. You felt incredibly foolish. Not only because Obi-Wan would never leave the Order for you but also because you knew that dreams that felt so good when they start out would eventually twist into nightmares and you would end up crying your heart out once more.

You had thought about sharing that ideal life with another a long time ago, when you had just finished your training and were stationed at a small hospital. He had been a kind man, another medic who had been on a different team but would always come around for talk whenever your schedules allowed. He was in a terrible accident one day and you stayed by his side through it all.

You scoffed internally as anger bubbled inside you, if there was a prize for rotten judgment, you would’ve won it. He played you like a fool. Once he was healed and regained his life, he left you, cold and alone for another.

You swore off love for a long time, determined that no man was worth the aggravation, the heartache, or time.

But then you became a medic here. And you met Obi-Wan. How twisted of fate to make you open your heart again for someone who could never truly be yours.

Who do you think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you. No matter how hard you tried keep it hidden or conceal it, it was plain as day, you were in love. Anakin assured you as much. And mind reading or not, you were certain Obi-Wan himself knew.

You sighed, you hated acknowledging the truth of your feelings, and that... you loved him. But you would never speak it aloud. Not even in the confines of your room, alone and hidden in the darkness.

Plus, you thought your heart had learned its lesson. Your head was screaming for you to get a grip, reminding you of how you had cried your heart out for weeks over failed love before.

This back and forth was so tiring. You should just face it like a grown woman. Tell Obi-Wan your feelings and then leave if, no when, he says it can’t be.

No chance or way you’re doing that. Throwing out your career and friendships. You won’t say it. You can’t say it.

But your heart tempted you with images about how things could end up if you gave up and gave into your feelings. You stopped yourself as much as it hurt, that scene won’t play.

You imagined if Anakin and Padme were here now as your heart and mind fight amongst themselves.

They would say you’re in love, you’d tell them they’re way off base and try to get them off your case, but in turn they’d just tell you you don’t need to be proud, that it’s okay you’re in love. You smiled at the antics you were sure would happen.

A strong wave of sleep washed over you as you made your way back to your bed. You happily gave in as you laid your blanket atop your body, hoping to at least live out your fantasy in your dreams.

As you drifted to sleep, you promised yourself something.

You wouldn’t say you were in love...

At least out loud.

#800celebrationchallenge #commander-writergirl #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan fluff #obi wan angst #obi-wan #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan fluff #obi-wan angst #obi wan fanfic #obi-wan fanfic #obi wan reader insert #obi-wan reader insert #song fic

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thevirtualcanvas · 4 years

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One Evening - Noctis x F!Reader

Noctis is a Prince and as such he is expected to perform for King and Country, that means nothing can be remiss. That’s where you come in – you’re a high class sex educator, ready to teach the young Prince just how to please himself and his bride to be. Warnings: Hard smut. Mature. Slight subxdom relationship and deflowering

Your heels clicked against the smooth marble in a metronome of confidence as you pulled the faux fur coat closer to your skin. A man carved of bronze and amber led you in silence across the foyer and to the penthouse floor’s elevator. He held the door and your gaze. You gave him a polite thank you and straightened yourself up as the doors glided to a close; this was probably going to be one of the most important jobs of your career. The door pings quickly as you reach the top and another man is stood at the other side, he’s pristine – clean cut, pressed and fresh. His eyes are sharp, almost hawkish and framed by svelte glasses that simply add to his regal look. He holds out a hand.

“Ignis Scientia, steward to his Highness.”

You take it firmly, disarming him with a smile. “Charmed,” you reply.

The steward hums with an air of conceit, and you notice your guide moving to the side of him, arms folded not sure what to make of you. Were all men in the royal court this dashing?

“I assume everything is in order?” The steward asked, though it was more of statement than a request. Of course it was, you were a professional, and they had sought you first of all. You reached into your clutch, and handed over a sealed envelope. He opened and examined it with scrutiny, taking peeks over the page to analyse you. “Very well,” he concedes after some time. “Just one more precaution before I take you to conduct your business with his Highness. Gladio, if you would.”

The carved Adonis named Gladio steps towards you and speaks for only the second time since your meeting. “Sorry, Miss. Gotta double check you’re not – up to something. Now, if you wouldn’t mind opening that coat.”

You nod in permission and unhook the clasps of the fur coat, revelling in the audible gasps from both men at your outfit. When you were younger your body was a source of contempt, of pain and anger. Yet, as you reached womanhood you realised it was an asset, a tool, a product of boundless beauty that could make great men, and women, bow to your every whim. Now it had proven it’s worth once more, snagging you a delightful Princeling – with long evening of debauchery and deflowering for the Lucian Son. At the Crown’s behest no less. Below the fur coat and draped across your curved form was the requested outfit of the Prince, you could appreciate his desire. Usually the clients tastes were not your own, and you simply complied; the Prince however had a particular taste you could get on board with. He had sent you a halter-neck black velvet romper suit, high waisted, low cut. Thigh high leather boots that were simple, yet devastating. And below all that? The main attraction, sheltered by your risqué outfit and the Prince’s eyes only. His own personal fantasy generously decorated across your curved form. Black lace and purple satin peep hole lingerie – which you couldn’t wait to show your client, it was certain to drive him wild.

Gladio handled you with delicacy and care, ghosting over your skin as if wanting to take you for himself. He was satisfied with his search quickly and nodded to the Steward – Ignis.

“Well then, follow me.” Ignis strode ahead, you could tell he wasn’t happy about the arrangement, but it wasn’t his job to be happy about it – just to lead you to your client. He swiped a card in a pocket by the unsuspecting front door and it flashed green before clicking open. He led you into a modest bachelor pad, made of chrome, sharp edges and that classic Lucian décor in black. The Prince was attempting to lounge coolly against a steely grey L shaped sofa, but you could see the nerves on his face – they were always nervous before meeting you. “Highness,” he announced your arrival with a little bow. “Your guest for the evening has arrived.”

The Princeling rose to his feet, as straight as he could and offered you a hand. “Hey – glad you could come.”

He was cute, really. Just entering manhood; that awkward in-between stage where he wasn’t quite handsome and still very pretty. Alabaster skin, piercing blue eyes and unruly indigo hair that hadn’t quite learned how to behave. You took his hand in yours, noticing how much bigger it was, but just as soft, bar a few callouses on the inside of his palm. “Thank you for the invite, your Highness.”

You could see his face cringing slightly. “Noctis, please.”

Ignis tutted from beside you. “Alright,” you appeased. “Noctis. I look forward to getting to know you this evening.”

“R-right.”

Gods. He was fucking adorable.

Ignis cleared his throat. “Well, Sire if you’ll excuse myself and Gladio. Dinner is prepared, wine is in the cooler.” He walked towards his Prince and cast you a searing look. “Just remember, while tradition, if you change your mind at any point – myself and Gladio are a phone call away.”

His concern for his ward was touching, but it narked you a bit. “You have my word that he is in full control. Nothing will happen without his unwavering consent. If he needs to stop at any time, all he has to do is say the word, and that’s it – no questions asked.”

Noctis turned to his Steward/friend and clapped him against the arm. “I’m fine, Iggy, quit worrying. Go enjoy the rest of your night off.”

Resigned, Ignis bowed and took his leave. Leaving you alone with the Prince and his desires. Noctis readjusted his shirt and ran his fingers up his bare forearms. He cleared his throat and hummed to himself, he was clearly not used to the company of women.

“So – uh – would you like some dinner, before we start?” He gestured to the set table.

You shrug off the fur coat and throw it over the back of the sofa. “I appreciate the effort, but that’s not what I’m here for tonight. Though I’ve no doubt that your Steward’s cooking is fantastic. I can wait for you, if you like.” You take a seat, flicking one knee over the other, feeling the leather crunch around your thigh.

The Prince shook his head, and took a seat next to you. “No – it’s fine. I don’t want to make you wait.”

You bopped him on the nose with your finger and cast him a bright smile. “And that’s lesson one learnt. Your blushing bride to be will not be willing to wait for your affections. You need to learn to read her moods, and her wants. So pay close attention Noctis and you might just learn something.”

He sat up straight, like a rod was shoved down his spine, a warm blush danced across his pale cheeks. You twisted your body to face him, giving him a great view of your ample curves, watching as his eyes greedily pulled you in.

“Now then, what do you think I want first?”

He stuttered, pulling his lips tight into his mouth. “ I – uh – hmm –”

You lower your voice and reach for one of his tightly coiled hands. “I want to be touched, first. In every place you can think of. Start some where small. My knee, my shoulder, the back of my wrist. You think erogenous zones are just my tits and my clit? No – with the right touch you can get a woman turned on in any place. So go ahead, touch me.”

Noctis shuffled on the sofa, pulling himself as close as he dared, fingers trembling; his mind in over-drive and not sure where to start. He settled for your thigh, a swath of exposed flesh between the velvet and the leather, guiding soft fingers against softer flesh.

“Good,” you praised. “Keep going.”

They trickled across to your plump hand that rested on your knee, caressing in small circles up your arm and to the top of your shoulder; Noctis’ side pressing against you as he found himself more involved. He touched your neck, your collar, your soft, round cheeks, anything he could get his hands on or under.

“Is this the one I asked for?” Noctis asked, playing with the satin strap of your peep hole bra.

“Would you like to see it?”

He smirked.

“Soon… not yet.”

Without guidance he began to use his lips, in the comfort of his own home – drunk on the desire of you his lips grazed your flesh in accordance with his deft fingers. He had a remarkable smell, rich cologne, soft soap, a heady musk that would no doubt drive his bride to be to a lusty frenzy – but you were professional and while his cute face and naïvety would drive some mad, you would not be – Oh. Noctis nipped at your neck, fingers under your chin, giving him freer reign of your form. His tongue dragged the length of your neck up to your ear lobe, his soft moan vibrating down your ear canal. His lips smacked against your rounded jaw, warm tongue darting out to taste your flesh.

“Now, what do you think I want?” You asked, eyes focused on the evening thrum of Insomnia.

His soft chuckle reverberated through your throat, his fingers guided your chin to his face. Soft pink lips, glistening and puffy. “If I were you, I’d want to be kissed.” He tilted his head, and found your cherry red stained lips. Connecting and pressing with expert ease.

He tugged on your bottom lip, licked the top, trying to part them to tease at your tongue as his hands cupped your face and played with the tresses of your hair.

You pulled away and grinned. “You’ve practised that one, Highness.”

His bliss filled eyes creased with a smile. “I happen to have a very liberal best friend who uses kissing as a punishment. He’s a good teacher….”

You chuckled, scoring your fingers along his carved, pale neck. “Maybe I need to hire him… or maybe he needs to hire me.” Noctis huffed out of his nose, a little jealous perhaps? You reached for one of his lanky hands, pulling it from your hair, to your face, suckling on the tip of his finely manicured fingers to pull him from his jealous funk. “I apologise, that was unprofessional. Your bride would never talk about other men in the bedroom – which is where you should be leading me. Making love in the living room is great, but your first time should always be in the bedroom. Do you have everything I requested?”

Eyeing his slicked finger Noctis was dazed for a moment, probably imagining the other things your pert mouth could do. “Yeah,” he replied eventually, leading by the hand to the master bedroom, his palm a little bit clammy. He opened the door and gave you a sheepish look as he entered his domain. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect.”

He had done as requested, you noticed as you lured him to the silk sheets. Scented candles were dotted around the pitch black room like fading stars. On the night stand was a box of condoms, lube and baby wipes. On an out of place chesterfield armchair was a set of impeccably folded white towels and dressing gowns. The mood was serene and amorous, at least it was for him in his humble naivety. You guided Noctis to the edge of the bed, running your hands over him, pushing unruly hair away from his scalp to see the unfettered lust in his royal eyes. His hands came to your wide hips as you unbuttoned his shirt, fingers digging into the velvet and your luscious flesh. You stood back from the Prince in a moment of admiration and almost jealously for his soon to be bride, imaging watching that precious face come undone every night? Lucky girl.

“Watch me,” you commanded as he pined for your touch from his place on the bed. “It’s just as important to look as it is to touch. You’ll need to make your bride feel like she is the only woman in the world you’ll ever lust over. She needs to feel revered. Desired. You’ll need to worship her every move, every touch, every smell. When you fall into bed with her, consume and be consumed by her. Do you understand?”

His hands balled into the expensive sheets, his perfectly crafted body heaved as he watched you. The Prince gave the barest of acknowledgement, so you continued.

The halter-neck was held together by a clasp and a zip, you undid the zip first, the material hung snug against your skin. You kept Noctis in your focus and your fiddled with the clasp, watching as in one fell swoop the one piece fell away, revealing your bra and with a quick sweep of your hands fell into a puddle on the floor giving the Prince a peek of his prize. You loved the way the underwear made you feel. A graceful femininity in soft lace, and sleek satin. With a skein of slutty in it’s slits at the nipples and gaping hole of your thong. The thong itself was a work of beauty, your pubic bone mostly hidden behind the material, then it just gave away, framing your pussy with rows of pink pearls; with four strings that held it together by the meat of your hips, drawing the eye of your grateful liege to your greatest weapon.

You could see his tented erection, painful against his slacks. One of his tightly coiled hands from the sheets to his hair, dragging it back against his scalp. Noctis was drowning in desire, the need for a sticky, sweet release, and he wanted to find it within you.

“Fuck. You look amazing,” he grunted, biting his bottom lip from pastel to white. “Can I touch you again?”

You took the steps towards him, one thigh each side of his knee. You ran your hands over the length of your own curves, gently teasing over the gash of the thong, a shiver down your spine as the Princeling licked his lips. “You’d better.”

His long arms reached for you, clawing into the meat of your arse; his eager fingers hooked in pulled to you to him. Noctis settled for you kneeling over him, your heavy chest in his face and exposed pussy over his aching, clothes erection. He played with the bountiful flesh of your arse cheeks, sharp fingers grabbing handfuls at at time as he opens his mouth wide and feasts on your expansive stomach.

“Gentle!” You hiss, yanking him back by his hair. “Take your time.”

Violet eyes dipped in hazy lust looked at you. “Right, sorry. I just –”

You planted a rewarding kiss on the Prince’s clammy brow. “It’s fine, keep going.”

It didn’t take long before curious fingers and an inquisitive tongue played with your nipples beneath the brocaded lace. He slurped greedily, humming in pleasure as his lips smacked against your sensitive nub. Noctis reached back, grabbing for the special lube on the night stand, before covering his hands and your nipples in chocolate flavoured lube. Lapping up every last bit with eager satisfaction.

Chest heaving, Noctis gave you a shy look. “I want more…” He whispered, hands resting on the inside of your warm thighs, looking at the glistening mess on his slacks. “Can I touch you there?”

His question was almost reserved, you’d say yes, it’s what you were getting paid for, but there was nothing as sexy as consent.

“Yes, Noctis.”

The Prince stored incredibly strength within his taut body; within seconds you went from domineering him to being domineered by him. He’d flipped you on to the sheets, and then rested between your thighs. He took off the once crisp shirt and threw it to the floor into the heap of clothes. Noctis almost looked embarrassed as you viewed your Prince in a state few saw him in.

“The slacks come off too,” you advised.

He agreed with a nervous hum. Noctis slid off the bed, and fumbled with buttons, eyes flitting between you and the tailored slacks. Like a teenaged girl on Prom Night he stood before you, a bundle of nerves at his almost naked body. He held his arms across his chest, as you viewed him. He really was beautiful. Toned legs and arms, taut chest, calves and a decent sized cock, peddled away in expensive, designer briefs. Throw it all in with that signature Lucian look and he was easiest one of the most stunning creatures you’d every seen.

“You want to keep going?” You asked, and he affirmed with a quick nod.

“Am I – okay?” The question came from an adolescent fear, one you supposed everyone went through, even Princes.

You smirked, prying your legs apart for the Princeling to see. “Come between my legs and find out.”

He was an eager learner, you could give him that. Happily nestled into your cunt, an ear listening out for your direction or your delight. You weren’t getting paid to lie, he needed to be ready to please his bride after all. You were pleased with his ability to ‘get stuck in’, not all of your clients were wiling or capable of pleasing a woman with their hands and mouth alone. Most of these royal brats only wanted to pump you full of seed and parade you as their mistress, which didn’t happen and they either learnt how to pleasure their partner or you dropped them like a brick. Noctis was a star pupil in that respect, hair sticking to his brow, his nose pressed against you clit and his tongue trying bury itself into your walls. You came not long after that, Noctis supping up your spend like his life depended in it. He raised himself to his haunches, punch drunk on his own lust and rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was that, enough?”

You laughed at the Prince and brought yourself to your knees to reward him with a kiss. After all if he was ready to go down on you, you had to be ready to taste yourself on his lips. “You have a real talent for it. With some practice your lovely bride will be quivering and squirting from your fingers alone.”

You could see the thought crossing his mind, his face between the lovely oracles creamy thighs, watching her angelic voice crying out in sinful delight, he liked the idea of it, so did you.

“I’d like to be able to do that… for her. If she wants it.” Noctis thought out-loud confiding in you. You’d have no doubt even the oracle would like to get her rocks off every now and again. “Now what happens?”

How cute.

You rub his shoulders, down his shoulder blades, along some scar tissue near his spine, back up along his arm and cup his cheeks. “Well, any number of things. I suppose, she could tease you, give you a blowjob, a hand job, tease your ass, use toys, use food, ice play, tie you up, blindfold you, or even just stick to the part where you fuck her silly.” He shuddered, as you placed a light kiss against his bottom lip. “Or she might not want to go any further, and you’ll have to respect her decision, regardless of your own need for her. Understand?”

He nodded.

“However, I’m here for your practice. So, why don’t you be a dear, take off your underwear and fuck me?” With a tug of his lip you let him go and he raced from the bed, his nerves suddenly vanished and he dashed for the condom box and ripped into the packet. You rested against the bed on your side, elbow keeping your head up. “How confident are you, using one of those?”

It was a legitimate question, you’d had many clients who thought they would just ride you raw and then you would spend the first session teaching them how to have safe sex, which would ruin their mood but not yours. But you needn’t have worried, the Prince was perfectly capable it seemed.

“I – uh – practised,” he said with a deft 'ask no questions’ shrug before lubing himself up with another bottle on the night stand – this time a water based lube.

“Aren’t you bothered about your expensive sheets?” You asked with a cheeky smile and the Prince crawled onto the bed and back between your thighs.

“No?” His face scrunched, as if that was such a strange question.

“Next lesson, sex doesn’t have to be scary and serious, it can be fun and silly too. We’ll make strange sounds, get cramp and get tired. So just take it at your own pace, alright?” You grabbed him by the base of his cock and guided him to your waiting entrance. “Just remember to keep my pleasure in mind, you pounding into me isn’t going to finish me off.”

He swallowed hard, a wealth of information was trying to lay claim in his brain but all he could think of was his cock being clamped around your glistening, pink walls. The mood was set, the room smelled of 'Lucian Summer’ whatever that was; he was in the company of a beautiful, experienced and resourceful woman. Noctis was ready. With a strained gasp he inched himself into your warm body. You urged him to breath as he reached his zenith. Rocking your hip to reach his. He buried his hands under your hip and moved. Slowly. Carefully. Just feeling the new experience and the way his body felt.

The Prince filled you up, that was for certain. But that would mean nothing if he forgot about your own pleasure. Thankfully some of his brains remained in his skull and he readjusted. One hand honed in on your clit and the other gave him some leverage against your thigh. He gave a cautionary thrust, trembling as he went.

“Yes, Noctis! That’s it keep going!”

He moved a little faster. A little harder. Rotating his finger softly against your engorged clit.

“Aw, fuck you feel so good.”

He grunted, it was borderline feral. His fingers coiled around the thong, pulling it tighter as each thrust rippled through your body. One of the strings snapped under his tension. He looked at you in surprise, stilled for a second, before tearing the thing from your heated body, exposing your full pussy to him. Running his fingers through your pubic hair he began to pound you again, thong in the other hand.

That was unexpected from the little Prince.

He moved from your very stimulated pussy, to the heavy breasts that were taunting him with each jiggling thrust. He took both into his mouth at once, his thrusts becoming erratic as he did, but you could still feel it throughout your whole pelvis. He suckled, nibbled and bit, causing waves of painful pleasure to course through you.

“I’m so close, Noctis!” There was a fury in his eyes, born of new desire and a strange need to appease you.

He let go of your swollen tits and found your pussy once more, rubbing firm circles into your clit with tight, little thrusts to accompany each rotation. His face tightened, muscles rippled under taut skin and you knew he was right there with you. You moaned, and writhed, giving him as much visual fodder for his end as you could. Lightening shot up from your core and flashed through your whole body. With a scream, your orgasm came, the strongest it had been for a long time, and with the tightening of your walls Noctis followed suit. Letting out a hoarse, strangled moan as he bucked his hips into your heat, feeling as his seed filled the latex sleeve, wishing it was pouring straight into your womb.

As he rode the aftershocks, he pulled out slowly and fell to your side, full condom still latched onto his dick. He gasped for breath, marbled chest covered in a dewy sheen, strands of wiry hair stuck to his forehead. You moved it away from his brow and he thanked you with a small smile.

“How are you?” You asked, normally it would be bad form to ask about performance, but it was his first time.

“Is it always this tiring?” He gasped between heavy breathes as you caressed his arm.

“Not always,” it was true sometimes he won’t have to lift a finger, you can imagine him bound, gagged and begging for release.

“Will you stay for a little bit?”

You pondered it thoughtfully. “How about I give you a hand getting a shower? Then you can call your Steward and let him know you’re alright, so he can stop his motherly panic and I can tell him you’re thoroughly deflowered.”

Lethargy hit you both as you showered, showing the Prince the proper way to clean after your session, and to clean his bride to be. He wanted to take you again in the shower, cock poised after it’s brief engagement in adult pleasure.

“I don’t think so, Highness. Maybe next time.” You laughed as you ran a small towel through his wet hair.

He looked pleased, hopeful even. “So there’s a next time?”

“If you need my services before your departure, then yes.”

“Maybe you could show me other things.”

“Other things?” You enquired putting your romper back on and zipping your boots up.

He’d flung a pair of pyjama’s on at this point as he threw the top coverlet into the laundry basket, looking much more comfortable, but no less handsome. “Yeah, like toys and stuff… my best friend said there is a lot of other stuff you can do.”

You walked through to the main lounge and the Prince followed, finding your fur coat for you and sliding it over your shoulders. “It’s something we can discuss, I suppose, if you’re willing. But not tonight, I think I’ve taught you enough for one evening.”

Noctis ran his hand through still damp hair. “Thank you… I guess. I mean this has been weird but – you’re nice.”

You flashed the young Prince a smile, plastered a pink kiss on his cheek and parted with a hug. “You’re not too bad yourself, Noctis.” You hear the elevator ping and decide that’s your cue to leave. “Keep the underwear, think of it a memento of your first conquest.”

You left the apartment leaving the Prince in a dizzy embarrassment and rushing to hide his prize from his Steward and his Bodyguard. They both greeted you in the landing, Gladio happier to see you than Ignis. A car was waiting as you hit the foyer, heels clicking in triumph as you end your evening, your one evening of pleasure and education with the Crowned Prince of Lucis.

#ffxv #noctis x reader #noctis x you #ffxv fanfiction #my work #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years

Text

[checkmate] [1]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis.

Notes: This is a story that I’ve worked on for a long time now. It was originally going to be a prize oneshot for @bluebutterfly1 after she won the contest I held back in December, but once I started writing it, I found that I had a lot more to say that couldn’t be kept condensed to a single short story without being annoyingly long or crashing Tumblr.

That being said, I’ve split the oneshot into four parts and will be posting it as such on here and AO3. Thank you for your patience with me, Katie, and I hope you and everyone else enjoy this story!

Read on AO3

---

“Good morning. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Hugo Sulieman. I’d like to speak to my son, Louis.”

“Of course, let’s see… Louis Sulieman… Alright, I’ll call him down. Please hold.”

“Thank you.”

...

“...Mr. Sulieman? Louis is currently in the nurse’s office.”

“What? Is he alright?”

“Oh yes, he says that he’s not feeling well. There’s a bit of the bug going around right now, but it’s nothing to worry about. Can I have him call you when Ms. Martin’s finished looking him over?”

“I’d rather speak to him right now, actually.”

“Well, it should only be another ten to fifteen minutes or so. We want to make sure he’s getting proper treatment for whatever he has. I’ll make sure he calls you right back. ”

“...Okay, yeah, sure. Have him call. He knows the number.”

“I sure will! You have a good day, Mr. Sulieman.”

“You, too. Thank you.”

---

“Good afternoon. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“This is Hugo Sulieman. I called this morning about Louis and he still hasn’t called me back. Is he feeling better?”

”...Oh, yes! I’m so sorry, it’s been such a busy day here! Okay, let me see… Louis Sulieman… Okay… room 2-A Scie- Alright, I’ll call him down for you. Please hold.”

“Thank you.”

...

“Mr. Sulieman?”

“Yes?”

“We’re currently… uhm, having trouble getting Louis down to the office. Can I have him-”

“Look, it’s an emergency- uh, a family emergency.”

“Oh-”

“Please tell him that. I’ll hold.”

“Right-”

…

“...Mr. Sulieman?”

“He still won’t come down.”

“He’s in the nurse’s office. I’m sorry, I can-”

“Have him call me when he’s finished.”

“Right.”

“...”

“...Sir?”

“...Shit- uh, excuse me, I apologize- I just… tell him it’s important and to call home as soon as possible. The number is 917-346-4785. You have it in your records and he knows it, but when he tells you he doesn’t, just dial it for him. Please, it’s urgent.”

“Of course, Mr. Sulieman. I will. Have a good day, okay?”

“Thank you. You, too. Bye.”

---

“Good morning. Ericson’s Boarding School, Elaine speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Elaine, it’s Hugo Sulieman again. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good, thank you! How are you?”

“Fine. I’m calling to let you know I’m flying in next Friday to pick Louis up for the weekend.”

“Alright, we can arrange that… Let me see- will he be back by the following Monday morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably drop him off Sunday night if everything goes smoothly. We may have to stay an extra night, but I’ll call and let you know if that’s the case. Will you let him know so that he can be ready when I get there?”

“Of course. Did you want to speak to him? I can call him down.”

“...No, no, that’s alright.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him when I get there. Thank you.”

---

“Thank you for calling Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. We are currently unavailable. Please call back tomorrow during open hours between 7:00 am and 5:00 pm, or leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please contact Headmaster Davidson at 681-782-1485.”

---

“This is Richard Davidson, Headmaster of Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. I’m not available at the moment. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thank you.”

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

---

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected-”

The cellphone shatters against the cement wall, slivered shards of broken glass and electronic bits flying everywhere. With the blunt force follows a frustrated, miserable cry as Hugo Sulieman hunches over in defeat, face buried in sweaty palms, fingers raking through and tugging painfully at blood-matted hair.

“Hugo!”

“It’s the same damn thing!” he exclaims, whirling around, beginning a pace back and forth around the room.

Stepping out of his way, a terrible mixture of panic and disbelief on her lovely face, Isabel gapes up at him. She rushes over to the phone, kneeling to examine the damage only to find that it’s broken beyond repair.

“I’ve called,” Hugo continues, “and called, and called again! Everything’s disconnected! I can’t get ahold of anyone! Not the school, not Richard, not Stephen or-or Louise! Not the house phone, nothing!”

“So what?” Isabel exclaims. “You thought breaking it against the wall would do the trick? That was my phone, Hugh! The only phone we have down here! Now if they call us back, how are we-”

“They can’t call us back because everything’s disconnected! Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Her dark eyes narrow, arms folded over her chest as she snaps back, “You’re screaming at me, so yeah, I heard you perfectly clear!”

“I’m not screaming at you!”

“Oh no? You’re not, huh? Excuse me, my mistake! I must’ve taken you raising your voice for screaming!”

“Don’t.”

“What?” Isabel demands, clutching his arm in a vice grip, forcing him to face her. “Don’t what? Don’t be upset?”

“Don’t start-”

“Well, I’m sorry, Hugh, I’m not exactly thrilled to be stuck down here while those- those things ransack and destroy the house above us!”

“Isabel-”

“And excuse me, if I’m upset because we can’t get ahold of that fucking school so I don’t know if Louis is okay or not, and now I may never know because you broke our only fucking phone!”

Fury bounces off the walls, echoing through the bunker and creating a tension that even the sharpest of blades couldn’t hope to slice through. Isabel’s breaths come out in quick puffs. She has to squeeze her eyes shut and force evenness into her breathing before she passes out again.

Hugo watches her helplessly, bones weighing him down as through the marrow were replaced with wet cement. He falls down in one of the chairs. Fluffy, comfortable and expensive, just like everything else he’d bought to occupy their fortified, underground bunker.

He thought the idea of an underground bunker a waste of money, but after many nights spent watching the horrors that occupied the news channels, and from encouragement from his mother and co-workers, he had the basement transformed into the safest bunker money could buy.

Just in case, he supposed, or rather, justified. Once finished, its purpose became a means of escape for him, a place he could go when he needed a break from work, from dealing with the construction of their new home, from Isabel and Louis.

A break from his family. God...

A break by himself to sit in that comfortable chair, put a classical record on the player that belonged to his mother before her untimely passing, and pick up a Tom Clancy novel from the overflowing bookcase. Relax after a long day at work and have a moment with nothing but contentment.

Or, perhaps he’d play a game of pool against himself, or spend an hour on the phone with his mother discussing- or, in her case, gossiping- about his siblings and other extended families.

On days when he wanted company, when Louis was in school or at his piano lessons, Hugo would find Isabel in the kitchen brewing a cup of coffee or flipping through his mother’s old recipe book. He’d approach her from behind, hands slipping around her waist as he whispered an invitation to join him down in their bunker. He had the extra cozy loveseat in the corner for a reason, after all.

“Hugh,” Isabel pleads, having steadied her breathing. “What do we do? We can’t just stay here. We have to go get Louis!”

Louis...

On special occasions, Hugo would invite Louis down here with him. He didn’t like the idea of Louis sneaking around down there alone, figuring the boy would become too curious and end up hurting himself or find Hugo’s secret stash of cigars and ask his mother about them, so he was only allowed down here under his strict supervision.

Not that Louis could break-in alone- well, that’s what he had thought at the time- with the door having a passcode to enter.

That was a mistake on Hugo’s part. Not the passcode itself, but the underestimation of his son and his ability and determination to wiggle his way into places he shouldn’t be without getting caught.

Hugo only every brought Louis down there to do one of two things: watch a movie in the theater room or play a few rounds of chess.

“Hugh?” Isabel exasperates. “Hugo?”

Louis learned to play from his grandmother. Hugo was pleased to see him take such an interest in the game considering all the gaming consoles he usually occupied himself with. As he got older, he grew strategic, clever in his moves, and with that came Louis’ bets.

“If you win, I’ll clean my room. If I win… I get to take singing lessons.”

Hugo only ever agreed to his silly bets because he knew Louis couldn’t beat him.

Until he finally did.

Mid-December, a Wednesday. School had been canceled due to the severe weather, so he and Louis, both in their pajamas and a plate of blueberry pancakes, sat in their theater and marathoned all three of the Back to the Future movies. Once they had their fill of Marty McFly and Dr. Brown, Louis begged to play a round of chess before dinner with the usual bet placed on the table.

The shit-eating grin Louis wore when he checkmated him was one that Hugo wished he could’ve captured, along with the sight of his own jaw practically scraping the floor, he’s sure.

An eleven-year-old beating him at chess… Hugo should’ve been ashamed, but how could he when watching his son- his only son, God- jump up from his seat and do his victory dance while chanting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

That pride swelled in his chest like an overblown balloon, only to pop when Louis pointed at him and claimed, “I won, so now I get to take singing lessons!”

“Hugo!” Isabel snaps her fingers in his face. “Where’d you go?”

Her gaze burns as she waits for a reply but gets none.

“Dad, I want to be a real musician.”

Hugo has nothing left to say.

“Hugh, listen to me. We have to go get him.”

Inhaling deep, air sweetened with the scent of spicy apples emitting from the automatic air freshener, Hugo sighs. Wiping his forehead, wincing at the press against his bandaged wound, he stands from his chair to take several unsteady steps towards Isabel.

“We can’t just go up there,” he says, motioning towards the ceiling.

“Why not?”

“Isabel,” he stops her, “we don’t know how many broke in, or if they’re still up there-”

“I haven’t heard anything for a few hours! They probably all left!”

“You haven’t heard anything thing because you won’t be quiet,” Hugo sighs. “But, I can. The ceiling- it creaks like someone’s walking around up there.”

“Oh, bullshit-”

“Isabel, if one of those things grabs you? You’re done. You saw what they can do.”

“I know! I don’t care- they won’t! I won’t let them grab me. I can’t just sit here and wait it out! Not when Lou is out there scared out of his goddamn mind or-or-!” Isabel takes a gulp of air, squeezing her eyes shut before shaking her head. ”Maybe it isn’t bad there. Maybe the school’s okay and it’s safer there for us anyway.”

“If that’s true, then why not pick up the phone?” Hugo argues weakly. “Why is the line disconnected? Why is the power out? Why is nothing working?”

“Maybe it’s a problem on our end, I don’t know! All I know is that I’m not sitting around here for another day while Louis is still out there! God, we should’ve just- just gone straight there when we had the chance! As soon as we saw it!”

“There were too many of them,” Hugo says. “There’s no way we would’ve made it out of town, not with traffic and all those things roaming around.”

“We could’ve flown!”

“No pilot would take us anywhere. Not in this mess.”

“Then I’d fly the damn thing!”

“You know how to fly a plane?” Hugo raises a brow. “Or a jet? Or anything?”

“No, but I could’ve figured it out!” Isabel throws her hands up, stomping her foot. “They have manuals!”

“And you’d be patient enough to read it?” Hugo almost smiles at the glare she shoots him, picturing her kicking the pilot out of a private jet to fly herself, both of them arguing as the plane wobbled around in the air through the city and all the way to West Virginia.

Hugo shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Isabel pauses her pacing, back towards him as she runs her manicured over bloodshot, swollen eyes. She’s shaking, whether in rage or fear or something else, Hugo doesn’t know.

“Unbelievable,” she whispers. “Un-fucking-believable.”

A scolding builds in his throat, a “Language, honey,” as if he had a real reason to say it. Force of habit, even now, even after everything.

Hugo heads towards the bar, paying the glass tank that lay there a glance.

Geoff is still, beady eyes narrowed as the turtle watches him. Hugo glares back.

When the news of the dead spread, Isabel drove over in a panic. Those things broke into the apartment complex she lived in, she saw the damage they left when they got a hold of someone.

She burst in, jacket torn and hair a mess, speaking frantically and demanding to know where Louis was. Once they got her breathing under control, she helped him secure the door, then ran upstairs to Louis’ room despite Hugo’s protests. She gathered every photo, notebook, every piece of clothing she should shove into a piece of carry-on luggage, and finally, Louis’ pet turtle, Geoff.

Hugo was never a fan of Geoff. Since the day they brought him home from the pet store, he always looked at Hugo like he could see straight through all of his bullshit, could pinpoint what his every downfall amounted to, and thought himself better than Hugo. Condescending, arrogant little shit.

It’s all in his head, he knows, but look into Geoff’s eyes long enough and it’s there- the judgment.

Except when Louis was around. The damn turtle loved Louis as much as turtles can possibly love. Geoff had no choice but to love him with the excessive amount of strawberries and fresh greens Louis fed him every day.

Louis loved Geoff to pieces, too, so Hugo tolerated the judgment from the turtle for years. It wasn’t until they sent Louis away that Hugo considered getting rid of him, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

If Louis hated him now, he may never talk to him again knowing that he’d given Geoff away, or threw him as bait to escape the horde of dead coming for them.

A tempting idea, that one.

Ignoring the bastard turtle in favor of digging through the mini-fridge under the counter, Hugo pulls out a half-empty bottle of blackberry merlot. It's icy against his fingertips and he’s briefly glad to have had a backup generator installed down here.

He considers briefly snatching a cigar from under there as well but doesn’t. Not in front of Isabel.

He unscrews the cap, inhaling the sweetness of the alcohol with a watery mouth.

“You’re not serious,” she glowers at him. “Not right now.”

“Neither one of us is leaving tonight,” Hugo pours them each a glass, motioning for her to sit. “We’ll wait ‘til morning and see if they’ve cleared enough for us to gave everything we need and get to the car, then we’ll go from there.”

“And if they haven’t? You’re going to just sit there while our son is out there? I don’t care what you do, Hugh, but-”

“I said we’ll go from there,” he says pointedly. “If you go up there now, you’ll die. For now, sit down and quit making so much noise.”

She hesitates, gaze darting to the thick, metal double doors separating them from the real possibility of death. She wants to argue, Hugo can see it in the way she bites her bottom lip, but weariness gets the best of her. Sitting beside Geoff- who doesn’t fix her with his disdainful gaze- Isabel accepts the glass of wine, taking a tiny sip with a sigh.

“This is wrong,” she murmurs.

Exhaustion shows itself in the way she leans against the counter, wine in one hand and forehead in the other. Her distraught is worse than Hugo’s ever seen. Worse than it was prior to their divorce.

That thought’s painful enough that he downs the rest of his wine with little effort.

Fear’s overpowering the bitterness between them and he knows it. That burning question dangling in the air, begging to be asked, and Isabel takes the bait.

“What if something happens because we aren’t there?” Isabel murmurs into her glass, covering up the crack in her voice by clearing her throat. Hugo can see it in her eyes, the sorrow seeped in wetness, threatening to spill over with every word she speaks. “What if it is bad there and he needs us? If we stay down here, he might get hurt or trapped or- or-”

Or killed.

Bitten by the dead.

Turned into one of them.

His Louis as a walker…

“Please, please, dad! You never have to do anything for me ever again! All I want are singing lessons! I’ll even quit playing the piano if I have to! And baseball! I’ll quit everything! Please!”

“Ericson is a good school,” Hugo says slowly, “and Richard is an honorable man. He and his staff will do everything they can to keep Louis and the rest of those kids safe.”

Geoff cranks his ugly neck to look- no, glare- at Hugo as if to ask, “Do you truly believe that, you old fool?”

Hugo wants to believe it.

The day he walked Louis through the gates of Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth, Richard Davidson was there to welcome them. He swore to Hugo that he and his staff would do everything in their power to help Louis through this stage he found himself in… to understand what he had done that brought him there.

“Because you get to be happy, or you get to be rich! You can’t be both!”

“And the school is in a good area- a safe area.”

“As safe as this bunker? Do they really have the means to care for all of those children in a mess like this?” she asks. “We shouldn’t have sent him away in the first place.”

Hugo finishes off his second glass of wine, pouring himself another as he refuses to meet Isabel’s accusatory lower.

“Little late for that now.”

A fist slams against the wooden bar, Isabel’s glass nearly cracking under her fixed grip. For a moment, Hugo considers crawling under the counter, knees to his chest and face hidden in his arms, hidden away from Isabel’s growing contempt for him, from the dead and the outside world, from Geoff and his judgemental, beady eyes. From the memories of the last time Louis ever looked at him as Hugo left him in the lobby of Ericson.

He could crawl under there and pretend everything is the way it was last year before his family broke apart.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he polishes off his another glass of wine, ignoring the way Isabel shakes her head.

“We could’ve figured something else out,” she says. “We didn’t have to send him away like that.”

“And what would you have suggested we do instead?” he asks. “Go to family therapy? We didn’t have any other choice.”

“We could’ve not sent him to that damn school!”

It wasn’t that easy, and she knows that. Hugo knows that.

Mom knew that. The entirety of the family knew it when they heard.

This argument is nothing but a mere beating of a long-dead horse at this point.

“Ericson was the best option. They specialize in that sort of thing. Stephen said I should’ve sent him to a military school.”

Disgust crinkles her nose as she pointedly rolls her eyes, sneering, “Military school.”

“I didn’t want to send him away,” Hugo says. “But we had to.”

“I told you that I didn’t want to, though,” Isabel stresses, “and you ignored me!”

“And if I listened to you? Then what?” he asks, pouring yet another delicious glass of merlot. “We ground him? Ruffle his hair and call him a little rascal? Forget about the divorce and get him some damn singing lessons?”

Heels tap against the cement, quick and rhythmic with every bounce of her leg. Hugo takes her glass away, downing it himself with a grunt.

“That’s all he wanted,” Isabel finally says, standing from her stool. “Why didn’t you-”

“Because,” Hugo interrupts as if that single word held all the answers needed.

“God forbid he learned to sing.”

It all seems so stupid now. The notion of Louis confessing his desire to grow up and be a real musician being the worst thing Hugo’s ever heard. Years back he was even hesitant about letting him learn to play the piano, but gave in once his mother chewed him out.

“A talented boy his age must learn to play an instrument! And the piano is as lovely as it is classical, Hugo! If you don’t book him lessons with Sonia, I will!”

That was the end of that conversation. His mother and her views of music were what gave Louis the idea that he could become a musician as if he could make a proper name and living for himself by singing and playing the piano.

“Grandma said I could do it, Dad! Please? If you love me, you’ll let me take singing lessons!”

Now it all just seems… meaningless. A waste to be so worked up over some so stupid...

“I’m leaving in the morning, with or without you,” Isabel says, tone firm and Hugo knows there’s nothing he could possibly say to change her mind. “I can’t stay here another night. I’ll go crazy.”

Grimacing at the churn of his stomach, head becoming queasy, Hugo finishes his final glass of blackberry merlot. Geoff glares at his hand, and Hugo’s tempted to flick the turtle in his ugly eyeball.

“Getting yourself killed isn’t going to do Louis any good,” he tells Isabel, speaking slow as to not slur his words. “You’re not going alone.”

“Then help me.”

“We need to be smart about this. Going up there without a plan is a sure way of dying, and we can’t get to Louis if we’re dead.”

Hugo watches the remaining wine slosh around in bottle for a moment before sighing deep within his chest. Isabel reaches across to grip his hand, the first contact they’ve had that didn’t happen because they were trying to get away from the dead.

“We gotta stick together,” Hugo says. “Okay?”

He looks to her finger, the wedding ring she wore for years missing. He forgot to grab it from his bedroom drawer along with his ring. There’s no time to do that now, he tells himself. If the house is safe to move through tomorrow morning, they’ll only have enough time to gather any supplies they’ll need- food, water, batteries, extra clothes, blankets- his head’s a buzz with thoughts drowning in sweet alcohol.

“Okay.”

That night, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman slept the best they could.

In the morning, they left the safety of their underground bunker, snuck to their parking garage, and loaded up their SUV with all their supplies. Risking everything to venture out onto the streets, they drove in hopes that they could make it out of state and towards Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth, both with silent prayers that they would make it in time to hold their son again.

#[checkmate]#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg violet #twdg tenn #twdg marlon #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg willy #twdg omar #this first part is very much an introduction and set up for the rest of the story #so yeah #i'll try and edit part 2 so that i can post it sometime over the weekend #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine

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birdsandspades · 4 years

Text

I Was Never Good at Waiting (Sugawara X Reader) Chapter 5

- It was your last year in highschool, everything had been going smoothly until you got assigned the new teacher. Sugawara Koushi was handsome, maybe too handsome for his own good. Be he wasn't flirting with you right, teachers shouldn't do that....I guess we will see where this year goes.

Word Count - 3,093

----

You started off Wednesday pretty excited, the relationship that was blooming with Sugawara was enough alone to make you skip the entire way to school.

“You're peppy today.” Hiroto smiled as you danced around him.

“What's got you so chipper?” Yua was looking over you with concern. “Did something bite you last night? Are you going through changes? Is your new super power mood swings?” She lifted your arm, examining it for marks.

“I don’t know, I guess i’m just excited for class.” You glared, ripping your arm out of her hands.

“Yeah she's definitely caught something.” Hiroto laughed as Yua wiggled her eyebrows.

“It wouldn’t happen to be…” She leaned in close to you, hands resting on your shoulders. “for Yoshiki hmm?” She turned you towards the boy waiting by your classroom door.

He waved as you made eye contact before making his way towards you. “Hey, I went to buy apple juice this morning and an extra one fell out. I figured I would bring it to you!” His smile was soft, sweet even as he handed you the extra carton.

“Thank you.” You took the juice, turned it over in your hand before offering him a smile.

“Well I'm gonna go to class, but enjoy it!” He smiled at your friends, waving a goodbye before walking off down the hallway.

You knew it was silly, Yoshiki was an absolute catch. He was a star athlete, incredibly handsome, smart, and funny. He had caught plenty of girls' interests, but just not yours.

Your eyes were instead fixed on the man sitting at the front of the classroom. His attention was turned to a small brown book in his hands. Reaching for the coffee mug beside him you watched as his lips molded to the hard ceramic, pulling away you noticed the residual shine leftover from the chapstick he had put on prior. He thumbed to the next page before gently sliding his reading glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Seeing him was enough to make your heart tremble. It was a crazy thought, that you liked your teacher, maybe even going as far as to call him your crush. It was wrong, you didn’t doubt that. You tried to push the thoughts away, you probably could have tried harder now that you thought about it. It had only been two day, two whole days with him in your life. It would have been easy to ignore those stupid feelings, to be friendly and go about the year. Soon enough you would graduate and you would never see him again. You could live with that, it would eventually have become a silly story to tell your friends.

“Remember Sugawara-sensei? Yeah I had a huge crush on him, how silly right?” They would laugh, you would laugh, it would end with that.

It would have ended like that, but he had given you some semblance of hope last night.

Your mind burned with the feeling of his hand cupping your face, you wished you had leaned into the warmth of it while it lasted. It kept you up all night. The thoughts of every little insignificant thing he had done, the small words, the quick looks, the tiny details. Those alone were enough for you to at least explore the dynamics between you two further.

“Good morning Sugawara-sensei.” You chirped as you made your way to his desk. You waited for him to peak up at you, those soft hazel eyes showing through his long lashes.

“Good morning L/N-san, did you finish your homework?” He kept his eyes on his book as he flipped to the next page.

Your classmates made their ways to their respected seats as the morning bells rang. You looked around in confusion as everyone quieted down, leaving you standing at the side of his desk.

He handed you the roll call sheet and closed his book. “Take the attendance please.” His gaze set behind you as he made his way to the chalkboard to write down the morning meeting points.

You ticked off the names of the present students before setting the papers on top of his closed book.“It’s on the desk sensei.” You lingered next to the desk, grasking at the opportunity to see his smile.

“Ok, go take your seat now.” He had turned around now, eyes glazing over you as he looked around the room.

“Maybe he’s having a rough day.” You pondered as you took your seat.

The class period continued the same, his usually vibrant outlook on life had faded for the day.

You waited your turn for college counseling as he called up your classmates one at a time. You were usually the last to be called in these instances. You carried your father's english surname as opposed to the rest of your class who spelled their names in classic kanji, because of this you were always listed last. You watched his last student walk back to their desk and you knew your name was next. You gathered your materials and waited for your name to be called, instead he disappeared into his office leaving you without an ounce of his time.

Soon the bell rang, and the next teacher walked into the classroom.“ He must have left out his office door, it must be a busy day for him.” You grasped at reasons for the stark chance of attitude, anything to push down the slow aching building in your chest.

By the time he returned for your science period his attitude had changed. His bright and sunny demeanor shined though as he answered questions and wrote the day's notes on the board. You would have sworn you imagined the morning if he hadn’t avoided your eyes the entire class as well.

Soon the day ended and classroom cleaning started. As the last students left for the day you made your way to his office door. You knocked lightly and waited for an invitation.

“Come in.” His voice was barely audible from the other side.

You turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door slightly as you walked to his desk. “Hi sensei, how was your day?” You smiled, teetering on your heels.

Sugawara didn’t answer, instead he typed out something on his computer. His fingers angrily digging into the space bar as he worked.

“Um, well we didn’t have time for my college counseling so I figured I would see if you were free now?” Your rocking stopped as his face dropped.

“I didn’t feel we needed it today. Did you apply for any scholarships last night like I suggested?” He again looked past you to the clock on the wall.

“No senpai, you had told me you would make me a list of ones to look into. So I want to wait for you to…” You chewed at your lip nervously, unsure why he was so upset with you.

His eyes flicked to you as his brow furrowed. “I think you're fully capable of looking for yourself.” He looked back to his computer, glaring at the screen. “It's time for you to go to practice, I don’t have time today to explain to your coach why you're late again.” He spat out the last word, his eyes focused on his hands.

You were taken aback by his brashness. The indifference was one thing, but to be so openly bitter was another. You left without another word, slamming his door behind you. You were on the verge of tears as you walked to practice. You didn’t have a reason to be so openly upset at him, he was nice now he wasn't. It was your own fault for getting so attached to him, someone you hardly knew.

----

During the next two week his attitude only got worse. He was openly hostile with you in class, going as far as to ignore your questions entirely. If you persisted to ask him he would simply tell you to pay better attention to his teachings the first time.

Tutoring lessons were just as disma. He would set you down in the classroom alone with your work while he remained in his office. At the end of the lessons you would simply hand in your extra work for him to grade and leave on your desk the following morning.

Because of this you stopped showing up. What's the point of missing extra practice to do work by yourself, he wasn’t even answering your questions at this point. He didn’t even bother to talk to you about them in class. He clearly didn’t care one way or the other. Today was the third tutoring session you had chosen to skip, opting to take the extra time to practice with your team instead.

You were halfway through practice when the gym door opened. The thick metal echoing around the gym as it shut.

“Sugawara, did you decide to come back to practice with us after all?” Irihata glanced at him before continuing the digging exercises.

“No, I need to see F/N L/N.” His glare rested on you as he motioned for you to come over to him.

You gathered your bags and jogged over to him , shrugging at your confused team member. You stopped in front of him, tilting your head. “You need me sensei?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, tightening his grip as he walked you out of the gym and to the classroom. Once inside he slid the door shut and turned to face you, his soft features hardened as his eyes fell on yours. “Three days, you've wasted three days of my time having me wait for you to show up for your tutoring sessions. Why are you not showing up?”

You met his glare, upset by his uncalled for attitude. “Because you're not helping me with any of my work sensei, I felt like it was a waste of both of our time.” You spat the honorific at him, right now he didn’t deserve your respect.

“Do you not know how to communicate with me? Do you think I wanted to use my free time to tutor you in a subject I'm not even teaching you?” He threw his hands up, gritting his teeth.

You looked away, clenching your fists. You couldn’t hold his heated gaze any longer, the hot anger was slowly dissolving into something harder to control.

“Answer me L/N.” He was stern, like a parent reprimanding a child.

“I didn’t want to talk to you sensei! You ignore me everytime I do so what's the point?”Trying to find a release for whatever was bubbling up you dug your nails into your soft palm.

“Are you a child? Did no one teach you to use your words?” Sugawara was now yelling, he couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer.

“A child? You're the one who is acting like a child sensei! You were so nice when I met you, and…” You choked on a sob, fighting with words you wanted to say. “and, in the nurse's office…” You couldn’t finish the statement. “But now you're so rude! You ignore me all day, you won’t help me with my classwork, you treat me like i'm stupid in front of the class when I ask a question. If anyone is acting like a child it's you!” Everything boiled over as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “What was the point if you were just going to lead me on like that?” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, stuck deep in your throat.

You gathered your belongings and left, you had nothing left to say. Your anger was spent, you felt stupid and irrational for even indulging in your feelings for him. He was right, you were childish. Only a kid would get a crush on their teacher.

You slammed the door behind you, walking down the empty hallway.

He had wanted to go after you, explain to you why he had to act the way he did. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how he had been interested in you for so long. But it was no longer his place.

When he had seen you at the coffee shop months ago, he was taken aback. You were perfect. His friends had urged him to ask for your number, it was after all the sixth time he had dragged them to the shop that summer just so he could see you again.

He had at one point built up enough courage to talk to you. His intentions set on asking you on a date. But when he made his way to the counter and he saw your smile, directed only at him for the first time. He froze, you were so close to him, yet you felt miles apart. He knew words could bridge the gap.

“Can I have a napkin?” How stupid, he had his chance and that's what he said.

He went back a few more times, hoping to pluck up that same courage. He had even written out his name and number on a piece of paper beforehand. But you didn’t come back.

Imagine his surprise to see you sitting in his class on his first day of school.

“A fucking high school student, she's a fucking high school student?” It could have been the worst day of his life, but when he saw that smile again. Well he knew he was screwed, absolutely whipped for you.

He could wait it out until you graduated, it was only a school year after all. But you were so sweet to him, the chemistry just happened. He had given up on the hope of waiting that day in the nurse's office.

You were so small and fragile, crying over a nosebleed. He couldn't help himself, he just had to touch you, to comfort you, so he did. Your face fit so perfectly into his palm, he wished he could have held you longer, but it was wrong and he knew it. Oikawa only confirmed that feeling.

What would everyone think, a student dating her teacher. The ridicule would go on well into your adulthood, and he didn’t want to cause that kind of pain for you.

So he tried to ignore you, and the feelings. He knew how hard it was going to be. All it would take was one look and he knew he would crumble. But this, this wasn’t what he expected.

Today, today was the worst day of his life, he had made you cry. Not in a silly way, the look on your face was proof enough that those tears were different. The nurse’s office tears were soft, gentle, leaving your eyes puffy. But these were harsh. Leaving hot, red trails down your cheeks as they left your eyes. He had hurt you.

----

It was hard to get out of bed the next day for the both of you.

You woke up with swollen eyes and a throbbing headache. You contemplated skipping school all together, but what would you tell Yua. Hiroto wouldn’t pry, it wasn’t in his nature. But Yua, she would kick down your door if you didn’t show up, she had done it once before.

You walked in as the bell rang, avoiding Sugawara’s sullen eyes.

He was a clean and proper gentleman. He prided himself in his well kept appearance, but today, well he was a wreck. His eyes were dark and sunken in, his usual suit switched for much more comfortable clothing. His appearance seemed rushed, as if he had decided last minute to get ready (which he had, but the school couldn’t find him a substitute).

When the bell rang you sondered up to the front of the class and picked up the attendance, avoiding his frame as you turned around. It didn’t matter, he couldn’t bring himself to look up at you even if he tried.

You kept your distance from each other throughout the day, and when you did interact it was brief and to the point.

Your friends were concerned but didn’t pry, instead they opted to show you silent love and affection. Yua and Hiroto had only seen you like this once. You had confessed to a boy during sixth year , but he had told you how he was looking for a prettier girl. It had broken your heart, the lasting pain ruining your self esteem well into your second year. They knew you would talk about it when you were ready, you just needed time.

Sugawara on the other hand only got teasing remarks from his coworkers. They were only interested in the details regarding the “crazy” night he had had, laughing about how he could have hid it better. Asking him for advice on where to find a girl for themselves.

The day progressed on and before long the final bell rang and he found himself inside his office grading papers. A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in.” He busied himself as the door opened.

“Sensei, can you open the hallway closet, I need to put up the brooms...” You stood in the doorway, not wanting to fully enter the room.

His eyes rapidly met your own as he perked up at your voice. His heart sank again as he watched you back away from the door.

You held his gaze, nervously playing with the frayed threading of your skirt.“Sensei?”You questioned again a little louder causing him to stand up suddenly.

He grabbed the closet keys and followed you out of the office.“Did everyone already leave?” He asked as you gathered the brooms. He reached out a hand to help you, retracting it as you gripped onto the handles tightly.

“Yes sensei.” You were walking briskly, causing him to rush to keep up with your pace.

He unlocked the door, opening it for you as you walked in to put the brooms up. He watched you exit again, walking past him with the same hurried pace.

He followed you back to the room, watching you pack up your belongings before heading for the door.“ F/N…” He stopped you, opening his mouth slightly.

You turned around with your hand on the door, waiting.

The words he needed were lost. He searched your eyes for the right response, he needed something to grasp at.

You gave him a stiff smile before sliding the door open. You walked out, closing the door behind you. He took too long.

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