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deepdarkdelights · 4 years ago

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Solar Eclipse (Hoseok x Reader)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 16.9k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Devious Intentions, Talks about Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Dub Con, Forced Implants, Death, The Afterlife, Heights, Jumping from Heights

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.

This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen.

“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”

A/N: This was supposed to be 10k...how did we get here. This story was heavily inspired by Beautiful Accident and Wonderful Nightmare! Both amazing movies I recommend that never fail to get me in my feels. I hope you enjoy this wild ride! See you in the comments! 💜💜💜

Your hands were hurting again.

The light from your computer screen was blaringly bright, causing you to momentarily cease your endless scrolling and remove your glasses from the bridge of your nose. You pressed your cool fingers against the warm flesh of your eyelids and tilted your head back against your seat, giving yourself a moment to relax.

The once cacophonous tapping of another keyboard suddenly halted as your assistant leaned forward in her seat, sliding her laptop shut.

“You okay, boss?” She asked, her brows pinched together in concern. “Is it a migraine again?”

You exhaled deeply through your nose as you flexed your fingers in an attempt to dispel the ache from them. You were far too young to already be experiencing so many aches and pains.

“No, I’m just tired.” You admitted as you folded your glasses up and pushed them aside.

“That’s because you work too much, honestly do you ever sleep? When was the last time you went home?” She chuckled in amusement.

“Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I’m faithful to my sleep number, I come home to him every night.”

“Him? You refer to your mattress as him? Somebody hasn’t gotten laid in a while.” She snorted.

“I could have you fired for that, that’s sexual harassment you know.” You shot back, amused yet annoyed she had hit a little too close to home.

“Please, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you fired me.” She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Before you could shoot back your response, an abrupt knock on the door stopped the both of you in your tracks. Without saying anything, she rose from her seat and began to cross the room. Knowing she would be able to handle it for you, you reclined deeper into your office chair and slipped your phone out of your desk drawer to sort through your endless amount of notifications.

You didn’t look up as you heard the door click shut, two sets of footsteps approaching your mahogany desk.

You could hear somebody clear their throat, their breaths coming out rapidly as if they were anxious. “Y-your coffee, miss.”

Without looking up you merely held out your hand, the warm cup slotting itself into your waiting fingers. You mumbled out a rough thanks as you continued to scroll through your phone, rolling your eyes at the amount of missed calls you had from your mother who, despite knowing your work schedule, persisted in calling you during your office hours.

You could faintly hear your assistant walking the man to the door, whispering a soft, “Thank you, sweetie,” as the door clicked shut.

“Really?!” She hissed, once she was sure the man was gone. “You didn’t even look at him!”

“Who? The coffee boy? I didn’t think it mattered.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip from your coffee.

“That wasn’t a coffee boy! That was your intern, jackass!”

“He’s just an intern, Jenny, he won’t be here for long. None of them last around here anyways.”

Jenny sighed, flopping down into the seat across from you with a pout. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”

“Oh no, don’t you start one of your schemes again. I don’t have time for men and the last thing I need is for you to start playing cupid. And didn’t I tell you to stop hiring people just because they're attractive?”

“Sweetie, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you're not as young as you think you are. When are you going to settle down, huh? Find a husband, have some cute kids for me to dote on.”

“Jesus, you’re starting to sound like my mother. I don’t have the time for marriage or for kids, not when I’m busy with this place.” You replied with a stiff tone, this was not the first time the two of you had this conversation.

“I’m just saying you’re hot, rich, and a CEO, you could literally have any man you want.” She pointed out, the tips of her fingers pressing together in the shape of an arrow.

“You literally just called me a Sugar Momma.”

“I mean, they do have websites if you're interested…”

“Okay, you win, I’m leaving early. I can’t deal with your obnoxious ass anymore.” You said, standing up so quickly your chair shot back and turned on its wheels.

“Jenny: 72, You: None.” Your assistant laughed, adding a point to her imaginary scoreboard.

“I was going to say call me if you need anything, but please don’t.” You chuckled, grabbing your blazer from the coat rack and sliding it around your shoulders before picking up your purse.

“Don’t worry boss, I’ll hold down the fort.” She said, giving you a quick salute as she stood and began to gather her things. “Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

You pressed your lips together tightly in an attempt to hide the hint of a smile on your mouth as she exited your office. She was the only person you talked to like that, you were a rather antisocial boss. You tended to come off as cold and callous to your employees, but in reality you just really didn’t like talking to others when it wasn’t necessary. It had taken four years for you and Jenny to become as close as you did, in fact she was the only person you could truly call your friend.

You had grown up in an isolated world, one filled with tutors and home schooling as you were groomed to take over one of the branches of your family's business. You had siblings, but you rarely ever saw them. They too were consumed by their work and their families, in fact you were the youngest of them and couldn’t remember a time where all of you lived together in one household. There were four of you in total, you only saw each other at holidays and your parents annual Christmas gala. You were by no means close.

You had grown comfortable being alone and frigid. It was safe and it was efficient.

Your entire life had been one of isolation, the only amount of warmth bleeding into the bleak monotone schemes of your world was Jenny. And the amount you had let in was minimal.

It was better being alone, you told yourself.

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder as your office door swung shut behind you. The building was still fairly active, everyone was in a rush to complete their work before the sun completely dipped below the horizon. That was something you enjoyed about your building. The walls were littered with floor to ceiling windows allowing the ochre tones of sunlight to bleed into the bright white and concrete interior, soft dappled light dancing over hard edges.

You paused for a moment by the windows, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warmth of the sun caress your face, its fleeting light still permeable through your closed eyelids creating a golden halo in your vision. You gave yourself two breaths worth of silence and stillness before your eyes snapped open once more and you hastily made your way to the elevator that would send you to your floor of the parking garage.

You waited patiently for the elevator, one of your legs extended in front of you as you rolled your foot from side to side on the precarious talon of your red bottom heels. Once you heard the doors sliding open and the familiar ding of the elevator you raised your chin slowly, your eyes half lidded in boredom as you met the expressions of your employees. There were two of them inside the metal contraption, their eyes wide in alarm at the sight of you. You tilted your head slightly to the side, and like you had cracked a whip they scuttled out of the elevator and hurried past you without a word.

You huffed in annoyance to yourself as you headed inside, you had no idea what their problem was and you pondered if there was any reason to write them up for their bizarre behavior. Perhaps not.

The elevator hummed as it steadily dropped floors, the soft music effectively worsening your mood. You hated elevator music.

As soon as the doors slid open you jetted out of them, your heels tapping noisily in the quiet garage. You slid your bag from your shoulder and busied yourself by trying to find your keys. You hissed to yourself as you tripped and almost went flying, multitasking and heels did not go together. You stopped for a moment, opening your bag wider as you tried to find the little ring of keys buried in the depths of your purse.

The second your fingers brushed the cool metal you released an annoyed breath, throwing your purse back over your shoulder as you flicked through your key ring, grasping the fob that went to your car.

Despite having what you had previously been looking for, you did not move. Instead, you looked around warily, pivoting on your heels as you scanned the area around you.

You could have sworn you heard footsteps.

You waited silently for a few more moments, listening for signs that another person was there with you.

You heard no other breaths, nor the sounds of approaching or retreating footsteps.

You weren’t going to wait around any longer just to find out you were wrong.

You swiftly made your way to your VIP parking spot, unlocked the doors, and threw yourself into the car while making sure to lock the doors as soon as you were seated.

Your mother had begged you for months to get a bodyguard. You were a young woman with lots of money and the heir to a massive enterprise. You should not be walking around as if you were a normal person. It was only now that you were beginning to think that your mother was right.

Not wanting to dwell on dark thoughts any longer, you pushed your key into the ignition, and peeled out of the parking garage a little faster than normal.

As your anxiety slowly drained from your body, you began to feel the effects of lack of sleep. Jenny was not wrong, you were considering the fact that maybe you had a touch of insomnia. Either that or you were simply a workaholic. Honestly, it could be both.

You switched the radio on, picking a classic rock station and dialing the volume up to the point you could feel your leather seats vibrating beneath you with each clash of the drums emanating from the speakers.

But even that was just barely doing its job. Your eyes were still stinging like they had been moments before at your desk. You were undeniably as exhausted as you were a safety hazard. You clenched the steering wheel harder, the flesh of your skin pulling tightly over your knuckles as you attempted to stay awake. It wasn’t that far of a ride, you could make it home.

But that thought didn’t stop your eyelids from drooping shut, it was nearly impossible to keep them open, they were so heavy you were struggling to reopen them every time you blinked.

Your eyes stayed closed much longer now than they had before, and upon opening them again a scream of shock bubbled up your throat.

A flash of black fur shot across your narrow vision as you frantically spun the steering wheel and slammed on your breaks. A band of horns beeped behind and beside you as you swerved dramatically into the next lane.

Your car had been mere inches from swerving right in front of an eighteen wheeler.

Your hand fluttered frantically against your chest, your heart pounding back against it in shock.

You had almost died.

You gathered yourself up before stomping down on the accelerator and speeding away, dodging the massive vehicle you had almost hit in the opposite lane. The shock of adrenaline you were experiencing from that frightening event was more than enough to keep you awake now. You only had one goal in mind and that was to make it home in one piece.

The minute you slid back into your regular parking spot you allowed yourself to slump back into the driver's seat, blinking wildly as you recalled the sight of the headlights and the cacophony of car horns from moments prior. You really need to get your shit together.

~~~~~~~

By the time you made it up to your apartment the exhaustion had returned full force. You toed off your shoes tiredly, stumbling over them with an annoyed grunt as you threw your purse down to the floor. You could really do without your sudden lack of coordination.

Far too tired to even care, you immediately began stripping your clothes off at the front door. You carelessly threw your blazer aside and shimmied off your skirt as you began to walk, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you headed for your bedroom. The housekeeper would deal with it in the morning anyways, it didn’t matter where they ended up.

Your pajamas from the previous night were waiting for you at the foot of your bed, folded up into a neat little pile contrasting greatly from your current care for your clothing. You happily sighed as you pulled the creamy, cashmere sweater over your head and stepped into a pair of silk sleep shorts. This was what you had been waiting for all day.

That, and the bottle of Cheval Blanc tucked away in your liquor cabinet.

You ran your fingers through your hair tiredly as you made your way to the kitchen, the sound of your bare feet patting against the floor echoed down the long, empty hallway.

You wasted no time, eagerly pulling open your cabinet and retrieving the expensive bottle of wine along with a crystal glass. You eased the cork free from the bottle, allowing it to roll over your granite counter as you poured the wine into your glass, the liquor bubbling as you filled it to the very top. You were a guilty self medicator, that was for damn sure.

You hurried back into your living room, wine glass in one hand and a small tray of macarons in the other. There was one thing you were certain of, you were definitely going to drink your fatigue away and indulge in your favorite cookies until you passed out on your couch. You deserved it, after all you were a CEO, an overworked one at that.

So, there you sat, taking languid sips from your glass and delicate bites from your cookies as you began to catch up on a show you hadn’t had the time to watch in weeks. It was incredibly relaxing, the soft hum of the TV, the feeling of your favorite blanket wrapped around your bare legs, and the soft tapping of rain against your windows. You were set on not moving for the rest of the night. That was of course, until you had to pee.

You groaned in frustration at the thought of having to move, but the call of nature was much stronger than your will to remain sedentary. You leaned forward, setting your food and drink on the coffee table before you violently kicked your legs, fighting your blanket as you attempted to untangle yourself from it.

The second your toes touched the lush carpet beneath you, a shock of lightning suddenly splintered it’s way through the sky, shards of light refracting through your windows and lighting up the dim room. The soft rumble of thunder followed soon after.

You froze at the sight, the light rain still tapped against your windows, a dull contrast to the sudden shock of light you had witnessed.

But, what was even more unexpected, was the sight of dark fur and glowing jade eyes staring back at you. There was a cat sitting on your balcony. That should have been impossible, there was no possible way that cat could have made its way there, your building was pet free.

The sight of its slick coat of black fur tugged at your heart strings. He must be so cold, stuck out in the rain like that. In fact, he looked almost exactly like your childhood cat you had loved to dearly growing up. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let him in, let him get dry and warm and fill his belly.

With a new goal in mind you carefully made your way to your sliding glass door, not wanting to spook him too badly lest he jump. The drop would not be a survivable one.

Despite your valiant efforts, the minute the door clicked and slid open he jumped up onto the fencing and rails that surrounded your balcony.

“Hey, no, no, no, just stay right there, kitty.” You cooed gently, taking slow and careful steps in his direction.

The cat fixed you with a penetrating gaze, his bright jade eyes trained on you, watching every step you made as his tail flicked from side to side behind him.

“That’s a good boy, just stay right there.” You hummed, your hands held up in a show of no malintent as you carefully approached him. “Come on, I just want to help you.”

Just as you were within grabbing reach, your fingers mere inches from touching his silken fur, he lept away, settling on the ledge against the building. He was dangerously close to falling off, the distance from the ledge to the ground far enough to make your toes and fingers tingle.

“Fuck.” You hissed.

The cat remained there, his gaze still trained on you. Those bright eyes seemed to be beckoning for you to come and join him, to meet him up on the ledge.

You quickly shook out your hands and feet as you stared back, your vision tunneling in on him. You could feel the cold air nipping at your bare flesh, goosebumps raising on the skin of your thighs. You could do it.

You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts before grasping the metal railing and carefully lowering yourself over to the other side. You could feel the wind stronger now as it swirled around you, a flash of light overtaking the sky once more as a steady rumble of thunder bounced off of the surrounding buildings.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a sharp breath through your nose as you attempted to calm yourself. Just don’t look down, for the love of all that is holy do not look down.

You steadily rose up on to your toes, shimming your way over as you held on tightly to the railing. The sliver of stone beneath your toes was slick from rainfall, as was the metal of the railing beneath your tense fingers. The closer you got to the cat, the further away it seemed to be, either that was the truth or the reality of how high up you were was messing with your head.

The thought you had from earlier suddenly came rushing back to you, the drop wouldn’t be survivable. What a sobering thought.

You had come to a point now where you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the railing anymore, not if you needed to be able to reach the cat. So, with a shaky breath you released your grip from the railing one hand at a time and quickly latched onto the stone architecture surrounding the windows. The only thing keeping you from falling was the tiny inches of stone beneath your arched feet, and the architecture you were desperately clinging to.

You slowly turned your head, your gaze meeting the cat’s once more. It’s eyes were almost mesmerizing, there was something about it that was telling you that you needed to get him, that you just needed to pick him up and stay with him. You had no choice but to retrieve him, you felt like you would die if you had to leave him all alone on this ledge. His eyes were drawing you in, causing you to spiral downwards into their hypnotic depths. You needed him.

He was not moving anymore, he was settled down on his back legs, his tail flicking out dangerously over the edge of the building. You were certain that you could reach him if you tried.

You slowly lowered yourself into a crouch, releasing your one hand from the side of the building as you reached out, the other hand still holding onto the stone of the window. You leaned forward as calmly as you could, your arm burning from the stretch as you slid over slightly to grab the cat.

This time the cat did not move away, it remained still, waiting for your touch.

Both of your arms were completely spread out, your fingers just barely holding onto the building as you finally made it within grabbing distance. And then, it all fell apart.

As soon as your fingers brushed his midnight fur, he jerked away from your touch causing your feet to slip out from underneath you, and your weak hold to completely detach from the wall.

And then you were falling.

A violent scream ripped its way free from your throat as you went airborne, the last thing you could see was the penetrating emerald glare of the midnight black cat as you plummeted towards the ground.

No one would know that you had never intended to end your life when you stepped out onto that ledge.

Unwillingly, you had.

~~~~~~~

You never felt the impact of the ground, and when you opened your eyes you did not find your body mangled or feel any pain. In fact you were no longer even in the city.

You were already standing, and you were all alone. You turned frantically, spinning as you tried to find out where you were. There was nothing all around you, just cloudy skies, stretching fields of tall grass, old dilapidated fences, and a dusty road of dirt and rocks beneath your feet.

And then of course, there was the bus stop sign beside you.

You approached the sign in curiosity. The closer you got the more you noticed how strange everything was. Despite there being stones beneath your feet you didn’t feel pain, and the environment wasn’t cold or hot, it was just neutral. And, it was extremely silent. Not a gust of wind blew, no crickets hummed, and there wasn’t a single chirp from a songbird. There was nothing.

You leaned your upper body forward, looking from side to side for any signs of life. Both ways you could barely see anything, the field seemed to disappear into thick clouds of fog that were impermeable to your sight.

You decided in that moment you were better off looking for signs of life than you were waiting for them to come find you. But, to your surprise, the second your foot touched down onto the dirt road a bus came rumbling down the road and screeched to a stop in front of you.

The doors slid open and light flooded the space around you. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the exposure, your hand creating a visor on your forehead.

“You getting on or what?” A voice called from inside the bus.

“Me?” You asked pointing to yourself.

“Of course you, does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” The voice huffed in annoyance. “I’m already running late. I'd prefer if you didn’t hold us up any longer.”

“Running late?” You whispered to yourself. “And where will you be taking me?”

There was silence for a moment and then suddenly a raucous laughter that made you jump. “Where am I taking you?! That’s a good one. Come on, let's go.”

You blinked slowly in irritation, the last thing you needed was to be laughed at and dismissed like a child when you had serious questions that you needed answered.

“Come on newbie! Today!” He yelled, causing you to jump in fright before scurrying onto the bus.

Upon entering you were met face to face with the bus driver. He had fair skin and pitch black hair with an amused, gummy smile on his face. Apparently, he thought you were hilarious. He said nothing to you this time, he just merely jerked his head in the direction behind him, signaling for you to find a seat.

Once you turned to face the passengers of the bus you realized it was far longer than it appeared from the outside, in fact it looked like it stretched farther beyond what you could see with copious amounts of passengers.

The passengers themselves were of all sizes, races, and ages. You could see mothers holding infants and elderly couples cuddled up to one another. Some people seemed to know one another, others looked sad and lonely like the little boy a few seats back.

You were incredibly confused.

Unsure as to where you should sit, you finally decided on sitting next to the little boy.

The second you sat down, you felt his gaze train on you and his little body shift closer to you.

“Hi,” He whispered, his fingers curling around the fabric of your cashmere sweater and tugging, “My name is Minho.”

You have him a soft smile in return with a gentle whisper of your name.

“Where’s your mommy, Minho?” You asked, curious as to why this little boy was all alone.

“I’m going to meet her now.” He replied, with an excited smile, his legs kicking out energetically before he suddenly calmed down. “I wish daddy came with me.”

“Why didn’t your daddy come with you?” You asked, your eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

“He said I had to go alone, he can’t come with me for a while. He said I’ll be happy with mommy, that I’ll feel better with her.” He said sadly, his lower lip pouting as he rubbed at his teary eyes.

“You’ll feel better?”

“Mhm, I was sick for a long time. Daddy said it was time for me to see Mommy, he told me it was okay to go to sleep.”

Oh, oh no. Everything was suddenly starting to make sense. You quickly looked over your shoulder and caught sight of the elderly couple you had seen earlier.

“Hey! You two! What were you doing before you got here?!”

The older man looked up at you with a kind smile as he continued to rub his wife’s shoulder. “We were driving down to visit our son, he was never too good about coming up to see us. Some bad weather hit, we couldn’t see out of the windshield very well. Next thing you know we’re rolling over the guard rail and down the side of the hill!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“You! Where were you?!” You yelled at the woman seated across from you.

“Hm? I went in for surgery, what’s it to you?” She asked with an annoyed grimace on her face.

“What’s it to me?!” You echoed with a hysterical laugh. You were fucking dead that’s what it was! All of you were!

Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles a minute as you tried to gather yourself, your heart beating frantically as a sick feeling settled in your stomach. You needed to get off the bus, you needed to get far away from all of these people.

Without thinking you lurched to your feet and gripped the cord above your window, yanking it harshly to signal the bus to stop.

The bus halted immediately, sending you stumbling forward into the back of the driver’s seat. The bus driver met your panicked face through the reflection of the mirror, a curious light to his pitch black irises.

“So, we’ve got a challenger? I knew you’d be a stubborn one.” He sighed, hitting the button that sent the doors swishing open. “The guy in charge is out there, you can voice your complaints to him.”

You were far too shocked to vocalize anything, your feet just blindly leading you to the doors. You stopped for a moment, looking over your shoulder to get one quick look at Minho. His little legs were still kicking out in front of him.

“Bye miss!” He called with a little wave and a smile, spurring you off the bus with a quick wave in his direction.

Upon stepping foot off of the bus, you were faced with a dimly lit four way intersection that looked like it had been abandoned for years. You quickly headed towards the center of the road as you caught sight of a tall man waiting for you.

His face was relaxed, a neutral expression taking over his features. He was dressed fairly well for a man standing in the middle of nowhere. You took notice of his crisp three piece suit and the high shine of his shoes. He was obviously someone who was important, if the bus driver had indicated anything by his statements.

You didn’t waste any time to hurl your questions at him. “I’m dead aren’t I?! Who are you?! What is this place?!”

“Relax.” He commanded, his voice immediately sending a wave of calmness crashing down over you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before reopening them and waiting in silence for his response.

“My name is Namjoon, this is the crossroads.” He said, gesturing to the four intersecting roads surrounding you.

“That is Life,” He said, pointing to the road behind you, “That is Punishment,” the road to his right, “That is Reward,” the road behind him, “And that is Retrial.” The road to his left.

“Right, that’s fantastic, how do I go back down that road.” You blurted out, pointing to the road behind you.

“Normally, you don’t. But luckily for you, or not so luckily, there was an error made.”

“An error?” You asked.

“Yes, one of our reapers made a mistake. You aren’t scheduled for processing for quite some time, someone by the same name, sixty years of age, was scheduled for processing today.”

A reaper? What reaper? You hadn’t exactly seen the classic skeletal face cloaked all in black with a scythe in hand had you? Your face screwed up in irritation as you flicked backwards through your memories from earlier that day, trying to remember if you had seen anything that remotely resembled a reaper.

And then it hit you.

“That fucking cat!” You screeched, spinning around as you dramatically yelled into the void around you.

Namjoon winced his posture slightly wilting at your realization. “Yes, that was one of our newer reapers, Taehyung.”

“What kind of operation are you running here? Do I look like I’m sixty years old to you?” You yelled, the panic quelling up in your chest. “You’re going to fix this aren’t you?!”

“Of course! I take my job very seriously!” He shot back. “The only issue is, I can’t send you back to your life just yet.”

“And why not?!”

“Time is a very sensitive and precious thing, as a woman of business I am sure you understand. The other woman still needs to pass and be processed, the events that lead to her demise must be tailored perfectly and set up with the correct timing. Only then can you return, once she is passed with the correct timing the two of you will switch. You can live again and she can be sent down the proper road.”

“And how long will that take?”

“A few weeks.” He replied vaguely, his body tensed as he waited for your response.

“Weeks?! And what will I do during that time? Do you expect me to follow you around everywhere?”

“Thankfully, no. In the time being, I will have to put you somewhere else, some other place and time. Are you willing to do that?”

“Yes, I’m more than willing. As long as I get my old life back, I don’t care what it takes. Just make it happen.”

“You will, in due time. But listen to me very carefully, you have to follow every aspect of this other life perfectly. You cannot act out of character, you have to act exactly as everyone expects you to. You cannot have contact with anyone from your previous life as well. Understand? If you can’t do that, then you can’t go back.”

You swallowed harshly, a sense of anxiety creeping up inside of you. You had no choice but to accept, your life and had been wrongfully ended far too soon. If that meant doing whatever Namjoon asked of you, you would do it.

You gave him a swift nod, your hand clenching up into fists.

“Perfect, I’ll have Taehyung escort you down that way.” Namjoon replied, pointing down at the road to his left, Retrial.

Upon hearing his name, Taehyung appeared. He was tall, with honey skin, midnight black curly hair, and bright green eyes.

The fucking cat.

Taehyung met you with a sheepish grin and an embarrassed wave, hesitantly coming to your side. He looked nothing like the reaper you had been anticipating. If anything he was a sad excuse for a reaper with the bashful attitude he was presenting you with.

“Did you really have to use the appearance of my childhood pet to kill me?” You asked, your voice dripping with venom as you crossed your arms over your chest, your bare foot tapping in annoyance. You weren’t exactly the picture of intimidation you normally were.

“I’m sorry.” He replied softly, bowing his head forward in an apologetic manner still refusing to meet your burning gaze.

“I’ll be checking in with you every now and then, please, try to play along with this life.” Namjoon begged, a serious expression evident on his face. Not only did he appear serious, but you could tell he was also stressed. The fuck up Taehyung had made was evidently a big one.

“I’ll try my best.” You replied, you knew you had to, or else there was no going back.

Namjoon gave Taehyung a quick nod, and with that gesture Taehyung grabbed hold of your hand and began to lead you down Retrial. From your perspective, each road was identical, this one too was dusty and littered with stones leading into a seemingly never ending fog.

The reaper beside you was quiet, his gaze pinned ahead as he focused on his task, leading you down the path of Retrial.

If only you had known how much of a trial this life truly would be.

~~~~~~~

You were boiling hot.

You could feel a mattress beneath your back, one that was far softer than you normally liked. Your body was swaddled with thick blankets and sheets that were sticking to your sweaty skin. You groaned in irritation at the feeling and attempted to bat away the blanket and turn onto your side.

A sudden grunt behind you had your heart stuttering to a stop, your entire body frozen as you came to the realization that that was not a blanket you had just smacked, but somebody's arm wrapped around your waist.

Slowly, you turned onto your side to see who was in your bed. The moment you flipped your body over you were met with deep brown eyes that were just barely open and the sight of a lazy smile as your body was suddenly dragged forward and pressed tightly against the strangers.

A sharp scream bubbled up past your lips as you threw yourself backwards, smacking the man’s hand away from your body as you fumbled out of the bed. In your haste your foot was caught in the mess of blankets, sending you tumbling backwards off of the bed, spurring another cry from your mouth.

“Baby?” A voice called, it was raspy and deep from just waking and wrought with concern.

You quickly yanked the sheets off of your sprawled out form and ushered yourself to stand on shaky legs. The man in the bed was propped up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down off of his chest to settle and pool at his waist. He was absolutely shirtless, revealing a stretch of honey skin and a toned abdomen.

Holy shit, what the fuck was going on?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, this time he appeared to be more alert, all signs of sleepiness dissipating from his body.

Worried from your lack of response, he rushed to stand up, the blankets falling away to reveal he was clad in boxers.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? It had to be illegal to have thighs like that, right?

“Stay right there!” You yelled, throwing your hand up in fear as he ignored your command and quickly began to approach you. The closer he got the more steps you took backwards, tripping over stray clothes on the floor until the wall at your back stopped you from retreating any further.

The man, clearly ignoring your pleas to be left alone, walked right up to you. He was so close that his bare chest was pressed up against you effectively sandwiching you between him and the wall as heat flooded your cheeks. His hands fluttered around you worriedly, checking you for any signs of injury before he rested his hand on your forehead checking for a temperature.

“Are you sick, hunny? You’re acting...off?” He asked, petting your hair in anxiety as he tried to meet your gaze.

“Don’t touch me.” You finally said, brushing his hands off of you once more as you attempted to slip away from him.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asked, obviously confused before a sudden smile overtook his features. He had a sweet smile, one that made his entire face light up in joy. “It reminds me how you used to act around me all those years ago. Are you trying to get me going this early? We really shouldn’t, you know, I have to be at work soon.”

Holy fuck, what kind of person are you now?

The man in front of you pulled you out of your stupor at the feeling of his hand on your jaw as he leaned down to your height.

Realizing what his intentions were, you let out another scream of fright and shoved him away, darting for the bedroom door. As soon as your hand gripped the doorknob you ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind you.

You leaned your head back against the wall as you rested, you hand over your heart, taking shallow breaths as you attempted to collect yourself.

That didn’t exactly go as planned.

With your eyes closed you didn’t see the incoming form running up to you until it collided with your legs, winding around you tightly in excitement.

“Mommy!” A little voice cried.

Your eyes snapped open in surprise as you looked down at the little child wrapped around your legs. Despite his small and non threatening form, you couldn’t stop the scream of fright that escaped you as you unlatched him from your legs and raced to the first open door you saw, yanking it closed behind you and twisting the lock shut.

You were in the bathroom. Finally, a place where you could gather yourself. You stood at the sink, resting your forearms on the counter and your head in your hands as you breathed in sharply through your nose. You needed to get your shit together and stop panicking.

You couldn’t help but feel cheated, panicked, and pissed all at once. Not only had you died, made a deal with some crossroads entity, but now the life you had been plopped in for the time being was the complete opposite of your previous one and you had not a single clue as to how to navigate it.

You let out a few more huffs before standing back up and raking your fingers through your hair. A sudden sparkle of light caught your attention, causing you to pull your left hand free from your hair. There was an engagement ring and a wedding band on your left ring finger. You hissed at the sight of it, your entire body shuddering.

You were married and a mother.

“Are you fucking serious, Namjoon?!” You whispered to yourself in the bathroom, knocking your head back against the wall three times in frustration. Jenny would be having a field day if she knew about this.

Jenny.

You wondered what her reaction was, when she heard that you had flung yourself from your balcony. You wondered if she blamed herself for sending you home early even though it wasn’t her fault. You wished you could tell her you hadn’t done that to yourself, that it wasn’t her fault. You just hoped that she was okay and that she wasn’t crying over you.

You could get through this, you had no other choice. It was time to get your shit together.

You straightened your spine and shook out your hands with a deep breath before you unlocked the door and swung it open. Standing outside the door was your “son.” He was practically the spitting image of your “husband” who had yet to leave the bedroom. He was staring up at you, with big brown eyes, as he raised his arms up and clenched his hands in a grabbing motion.

You knew what that meant. You plastered on a forced smile as you bent down and picked up the small boy before settling him on your hip. He easily nestled his head into the crook of your neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in your warmth.

At least he was cute, you could manage that.

You curled your arm securely around his back as you walked into the kitchen, your bare feet padded dully against the cool tile of the floor.

“Are you hungry?” You softly asked the little boy. You could feel him nod into your shoulder slowly, his fingers curling around the collar of your sleep shirt.

You carefully unhooked him from your clothes and gently set him down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He whined in refusal, reaching out for you once more before becoming distracted by a coloring book that had been left at the table.

Unsure as to what exactly you should make for the young boy, you searched the kitchen cabinets before settling on toast. Simple and easy. As the bread sat toasting, you decided to investigate the new environment you had been put in.

You could tell you were still in the city, just a different section of it. You could see the towering skyscrapers through the windows of the apartment. This apartment was definitely not your own. For one, it was much smaller with a completely different layout. And, it looked to be in disorder with toys scattered everywhere in the living space. It certainly was not to your standards, but you could manage it for a few weeks as Namjoon had instructed. All you had to do was follow this life perfectly, and it couldn’t be that hard. Right?

You pulled yourself away from the windows, the drop off sending a familiar shiver down your spine, and rushed back into the kitchen to finish up the breakfast for the boy coloring away furiously at his book.

Once you had the plate situated in front of him, you caught sight of a wallet on the opposite side of the table. Without hesitation you rounded the table and snatched it up, rifling through the items inside until you caught sight of what you were looking for. An ID.

“Jung Hoseok.” You mumbled, the name tingling on your lips and echoing in your mind. So, this was your temporary husband.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind you causing you to jump in fright.

You pivoted on your heels to face the man, your husband, Hoseok. Despite the fear his voice evoked in your body, he was presenting you with a blinding smile. One that sent chills throughout your body for reasons that were unknown to you.

“Hoseok?” You said, although it sounded more like a question.

“Hoseok?” He chuckled, “What did I do, am I in trouble? What happened to Hobi or hunny?”

Well shit, you were already fucking things up weren’t you?

“You know if you need anything you can always ask me, baby. No need to go sneaking around.” He said, his smile still pinned to his cheeks as he struck you with a penetrating gaze.

He said nothing for a moment, he just stared at you with that smile in absolute silence. It was so quiet you could hear the blood pulsing through your ears and the soft ticking of the clock in the corner of the room as you tried to avoid his gaze. Despite the high position you once held in your previous life, you had never been very good with eye contact. He was really testing you today.

He remained quiet as he grabbed the wallet from your hand and slipped it into his pants pocket before straightening his jacket out.

“Jihoon, you’re going to be late for school. Go get ready.” Hoseok said, his voice and face still appearing cheerful as the little boy shuffled out of his chair and darted down the hallway to his bedroom.

You didn’t know why, but you were struck with the feeling that something was very wrong here.

You remained motionless as Hoseok raised his hand, cupping the side of your face rather gently, much softer than you originally expected.

“You’ll be good for me while I’m gone, won’t you baby?” He whispered, his lips lightly brushing your cheekbone as his fingers gently swiped over the smooth skin of your cheek.

You said nothing, you merely nodded in agreement so that he would finally release you and leave you alone to process what you had gotten yourself into.

Without warning, he pressed his lips to your own in a hard kiss spurring a cry of surprise from you. You attempted to pull away from him only to find his hand at your back, keeping you pressed close to him as he sighed against your mouth, a shudder shaking through his body. His grip was becoming stronger, borderline bruising the more you squirmed against him as he tongue swiped over the flesh of your lower lip.

“Ew! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled as he reentered the room, fully dressed for school with his little backpack slung over his small shoulders.

Hoseok pulled away from you with a laugh, allowing you to stumble away from your supposed husband, your hand cupping your mouth. You took back whatever you had thought about Jihoon before, he was your saving grace.

“Sorry buddy, Daddy just loves Mommy so much!” Hoseok said, his voice full of glee as he gave his son a quick hug before standing up again. “I’ll see you after work.”

Hoseok headed to the door, stopping for a moment to look you over one last time. “I’ll be seeing you later as well.” He said with a wink before exiting the apartment.

Thank fuck he was gone.

Jihoon quickly approached the now closed door, sliding his shoes on and reaching for the door knob.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you watched the young boy open the door.

“School?” He asked slowly, his little brows furrowed in confusion.

“By yourself? No, give me a minute to get dressed. I'll walk you to the bus.”

“Mommy, you can’t!” He cried, causing you to come to a stop.

“I can’t? And why not?”

“Because, you never do.” He replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What kind of mother was this person? She didn’t even walk her own kid to the bus to make sure he didn’t get kidnapped? Jihoon was so young, he couldn’t have been older than six by the looks of him. He was practically still a baby.

“Well I am now, wait right there Jihoon.”

You were still dressed in the baggy T-shirt you had woken in, the fabric rumpled and hanging loosely over your shoulders revealed a fraction of your collarbone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Hoseok’s shirt. You hissed in annoyance and ripped the shirt from your body, filing it into a corner of the bedroom.

The closet was filled to the brim with clothes, both yours and your “husband’s.” You swept the various suits and shirts aside until you stopped at your own clothes. You found it strange the amount of formal attire Hoseok possessed and your lack of it. Your side of the closet was filled with comfortable clothes, the only “formal” attire you owned was a wedding dress tucked all the way in the back of the closet and stored away in a plastic case.

You sighed in frustration, settling on a pair of leggings and a large hoodie. One that was, presumably, your husbands as well. Did this woman have no desire to take pride in her appearance? Apparently not.

“Come on, Jihoon!” You called with a clap of your hands as you made your way to the front door where he waited, his small hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack.

Jihoon didn’t say anything in response, he merely held up his hand and slipped it into your own. He was a cute kid, a perfect reflection of Hoseok, but eerily enough you could see your own features reflected in him.

You released a deep breath through your nose, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. You needed to focus on getting him to school for now.

The door clicked shut behind you as the two of you began making your way out of the building. The weather was still warm, not that much different from what it had been in your past life. It was nice, being able to take in the fresh air for a moment and be able to process what exactly you were going through.

Jihoon had taken the initiative for the both of you, considering you had no idea where the bus picked him up for school everyday. His hand was still clutched in your own, his arm outstretched as he walked quickly in front of you. He was talking a million miles per minute, the most random things leaving his mouth. And, just when he was about to get to the point, he would find something new to distract himself.

“Oh, Mommy! Look at that butterfly!” He was painfully cute.

“Oh, it’s very...pretty.” You said, unsurely. At first glance, the creature was beautiful. It’s wings wide yet delicate, painted with bright colors like paint splatters on a fresh canvas. But, it had a large chunk missing from it’s right wing. The injured wing fluttered every now and then with the gentle breeze. The poor thing was trapped in the flower bed it was lying in, it would never be able to fly again.

You were pulled from your reverie as Jihoon tugged on your arm sharply. He beckoned you to lower yourself down to his height. As soon as you had settled down on your haunches he threw himself against you in a tight hug, squeezing you twice for good measure.

“Bye Mommy, I love you!” He yelled before pressing a kiss to your cheek and turning on his heels, darting towards the school bus.

You stayed there for a moment, your hand frozen on the spot he had left a kiss. So, that was what it was like to have a family. To have someone love you. You had never had that before.

You rose back up to your feet, taking a moment to gather yourself back up again. You could see there was a park nearby, and getting yourself over there seemed like a good enough idea. You didn’t want to go back to the apartment just yet, you still had no idea what you were supposed to do. You didn’t like the thought of just waiting at “home” for Jihoon, or worse, Hoseok to come back.

Jihoon was easy, predictable. But Hoseok, he was uncharted territory. A raging sea you didn’t know how to navigate.

Damn you and your incapability to foster stable relationships.

It was only day one of this temporary life and you were completely out of your depth. A husband? A son? A stay at home mom? You had and were none of these things, but now you had every single one of them. Whether you wanted them or not. Namjoon gave you orders, and if you wanted to survive, you had no choice but to follow them. You had to play along.

You walked slowly, tiredly, through the park. The tips of your sneakers were dragging against the ground, kicking loose stones off to the side. A few weeks he had told you, just how long exactly was that?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps approaching rapidly. It was the feeling of fingers gripping your shoulders and violently spinning you around that finally caught your attention, a cry of shock escaping you.

“What are you doing?!” A voice cried, their hands shaking you to garner your attention.

The sun that had blinded you finally lightened as it slipped behind a thick cover of clouds, disappearing out of sight. You could see now, and the man that was holding you so tightly was none other than Hoseok.

“H-Hoseok?” You stuttered, your hands gripping his wrists as he ceased to lessen his hold on you. What was he doing here? He had left for work no longer than half an hour ago.

“Did you hear me? I said, what are you doing?!”

“I’m going on a walk? I just dropped Jihoon off at the bus.”

“You did what?!” He yelled, his face stricken with panic and a deep, hidden anger. His hold on you was only becoming stronger, near bruising as he shook you once more.

“Hoseok! Stop it, you’re hurting me!” You yelled, taking a step back from him.

That seemed to do the trick, his voice quieted and his hold became much lighter than before. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like you had just committed a crime.

His eyes slipped closed as he took a deep, calming breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Baby, you don’t leave the apartment. You know this, we’ve been over this.”

“What?” You asked, utterly confused.

This seemed to shock Hoseok, his brows raising and his eyes widening. The both of you were standing there, a gap between the two of you as you stared at one another with equal states of confusion. You not knowing what he meant, and him wondering if you were experiencing some sort of memory loss.

“Come on, I’m taking you home, you need rest.” He finally said with a gentle smile, he was firmly set on the idea that you must be sick from how strange you were acting.

You didn’t trust him or that fake smile he was giving you. Something was going on here, and it was terribly wrong.

“No.” You said firmly, taking a step backward when he tried to grab hold of you again.

His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.

“What did you say?” He asked you, slowly.

“I said, no.” You spat back, your voice sharp and firm despite the tingles of fear and anxiety creeping through every muscle in your body.

“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Hoseok.”

That did it. As soon as he took one step in your direction, you spun around and booked it like a track star. You paid no mind to where you were going, not caring who you had to shove aside to clear a path for you to get away. You were trusting your gut, and it was screaming at you to get as far away as possible. You could hear Hoseok behind you, yelling your name and telling you to come back, but you paid him no mind. You just knew that this was your one and only chance to get away from him before you lost it.

Everything he had said and done had raised red flags in your mind, the way he talked to you and touched you, it was all wrong. It was possessive and dark, whether he intended it to be or not.

What husband doesn’t allow their wife to leave their home? What father lets their six year old child walk themselves to school? What caring man demands you obey his every will? There was something wrong.

You couldn’t hear Hoseok behind you anymore, the crowd had thickened substantially the further away you got from the park and the deeper into the city you were. People were staring at you strangely as you shoved through the crowds, grunting in annoyance as you squeezed yourself through them.

The crosswalk was fairly empty, you could make it through and keep going, you had no time to stop and question how far away Hoseok was. So, you broke through the final band of people and began to sprint through the road, despite the sudden cries and warnings that were being shouted behind you.

Fuck, there was a reason the crosswalk was empty, wasn’t there?

You turned your head to the side as you ran, only to come face to face with an oncoming car, coming in so fast you knew it wouldn’t be able to stop. No matter what you did, it was going to hit you. You threw your arms up in front of your face, blinding yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for the impact.

But it never came.

“Day one and you’re already fucking things up, aren’t you?”

The sounds of the city had fallen silent, there were no more car horns, no people talking, nothing. It was dead quiet. You slowly peeled your arms away from your face and opened your eyes.

Namjoon was there, still dressed in that three piece suit of his as he leaned up against the hood of the car that had almost hit you. He looked beyond pissed with you. You looked around, taking notice of your environment. There were people still looking at you, their faces frozen in shock and horror. There was a bird above you, it’s body frozen in midair with its wings spread wide open. And there was a little girl on the corner of the street, her popsicle stuck freefalling a foot above the ground.

Time had been suspended.

“Namjoon! You don’t understand, this life you put me in, I can’t do it! I’m not a wife or a mother, I can’t do it! And my husband? There’s something wrong with him, I don’t know what but he isn’t right in the head.”

Namjoon rolled his head back, a sharp sigh leaving his lips before he righted himself and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“You need to go back.” He simply said, his frustration evident.

“I just told you I can’t -”

“It’s either you go back to him and play house for a few fucking weeks, or I take you back to the crossroads and process you!” He snapped.

You jumped in surprise at the sudden intensity of his voice. When you had first met Namjoon he was calm, collected, even a little embarrassed at the mess up that had occurred. Now, he was frustrated.

“I told you before, you need to follow this life perfectly, you cannot let anyone know that anything is amiss. That means you need to be Jihoon’s mother and Hoseok’s wife. Whether you like it or not, that’s reality. So, you need to decide right now what you are going to do. Are you going to grin and bear it for a few measly weeks, or are we both leaving right now?”

You remained quiet for a moment. You already knew what your answer was going to be before you even opened your mouth. You needed to stop panicking and start thinking efficiently. What was a few weeks of unease and fear in comparison to years of your life you would gain in return. It was a good investment.

“I’ll do it.” You finally said.

“Good,” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief as he popped off the hood of the car, “No more fuck ups, for my sake and yours.”

And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air.

The world was moving around you again, and you were no longer standing on the crosswalk but instead in the middle of the sidewalk as the crowd of people that were previously waiting to cross the road dissipated and made their way to the other side.

And then, those same hands were on you again, but this time they pulled you into a warm chest, crushing you like a boa constrictor in a desperate hug.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Hoseok cried, his hand settling on the back of your neck as he pulled your head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

How ironic, you had scared him.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok hadn’t even taken the risk of walking you back home, instead he flagged down a taxi and ushered the both of you into the back seat. The ride was spent in silence between the two of you. You sat there, the side of your head pressed against the window as you listened to the music from the radio and the feeling of Hoseok’s hand on your thigh keeping you immobile.

You allowed him to grip your wrist when the cab arrived outside your apartment and when he dragged you back inside. It seemed so much darker now after you had been outside. You really didn’t want to be trapped in that small apartment with just you and him and no Jihoon to protect you.

His hold didn’t lighten until he had dragged you into the bedroom you had woken up in the morning. It was then that he pressed his hand against your shoulders and shoved you backwards on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you as you began to flail your limbs wildly in surprise.

“Calm down, hunny.” He cooed, a genuine, sadistic smile on his face now. All the other smiles before had been so fake now that you had seen this one. This one was beyond thrilled.

You flinched as you felt cold metal encircle your wrist and snap shut. He had you handcuffed to the bed, there was no running away now that was for sure.

Your heart was thumping frantically in your chest, your limbs shaking as the adrenaline that had once faded was flooding through you again. Your instincts had been dead on accurate, you should have kept running when you had the chance.

“Baby, baby, baby,” He laughed, tilting his head to the side as his eyes shone with glee. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you were gone.”

You were shaking beneath him as his eyes traced over every inch on your body, his fingers playing with the loose strands of your hair.

“You’ve been acting so different today, almost like how you were when we first met all those years ago.” He hummed, his face pressing closer to yours as he lightly brushed his lips down the side of your cheek before stopping to press a kiss at the curve of your jaw.

You flinched to the side in discomfort, spurring a delighted giggle from his lips.

“As fun as it is to have you like this again, that doesn’t mean I can let your bad behavior go unpunished. You left without my permission and you said no to me, I can’t have that baby, I just can’t.” He sighed, the puff of air against your flesh spurring goosebumps to rise in response.

“So, be a good little girl for me, and don’t move.” He instructed, pressing a lazy kiss to the bared column of your throat.

“You’re in timeout, a couple hours to yourself should help you think long and hard about what you did today.” He laughed, pulling himself off of you and retreating towards the bedroom door.

“I’d think of a good way to apologize to me if I were you.”

And then he was gone. Once the door shut you could feel your heartbeat steadily falling and returning to normal. “Play house,” Namjoon had said, “Grin and bear it,” he told you. You weren’t so sure if those sentiments applied to your situation anymore.

It was confirmed, you were married to a sadistic sociopath.

Hoseok had left you chained to the bed for hours on end like the asshole that he was. You were rightfully scared of him, like you had previously thought, he was unpredictable. One moment he was kind and gentle and the next he was angry and after that he was filled with a corrosive glee.

How were you supposed to make it through the next few weeks like this? It was impossible.

All you could do was lay there, stewing in anxiety as you were drowning in your never ending stream of thoughts about your fate at the hands of your so-called husband.

By the time you heard the front door unlocking the sunlight had completely shifted in the room. The light was now entering at a different angle casting long, dark shadows over the room. It looked like the light was being chased away by the tendrils of darkness curling at its soft edges.

You could hear a loud thud coming from the main room and the sound of little footsteps approaching the bedroom quickly.

“Mommy!” A voice called before the door was shoved open. Jihoon. “Found you!” He giggled, kicking his shoes off before scrambling up the side of the bed and crawling over to you on all fours.

Jihoon seemed undeterred by the sight of your wrist bound to the headboard behind you as he curled up against your side, his head resting on your shoulder as he wrapped his small arms around you. A chill traced its way up your spine, this wasn’t the first time he had seen his mother like this. No, this was common for him.

Jihoon was already prattling endlessly about his day, much like he had on the way to the school bus that morning. His chatter suddenly came to a stop as he ran out of things to say, instead he let out a little hum and asked you: “Daddy put you in time out?”

“Yeah, Jihoon, Mommy’s in time out.” You replied, your jaw clenched and your eyes pressed shut.

“I told you, you can’t leave. Daddy always finds you.” He said, nodding his head in agreement with himself as he began to play with your hair.

Your eyes snapped open, you head turning to the side to look at Jihoon. That definitely meant something, didn’t it? In fact, how had Hoseok found you at the park in the first place? Or on the sidewalk you had run to?

“Jihoon...how does Daddy find Mommy?” You asked him.

Jihoon continued to play with your hair, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he twisted and knotted your hair in a sloppy braid. “Your boo boo.”

“My boo boo?”

Jihoon stopped his shaky braiding for a moment, meeting your eyes as he grabbed your free hand and led it to the back of your neck. That was when you felt it.

Right there, at the nape of your neck, was a small bump beneath the flesh. You smoothed your finger over it a few more times in disbelief, making sure that what you were feeling was actually real.

He had microchipped you, like a dog.

A pit settled itself into your stomach as the reality of your situation finally hit you. The life you had been injected in was far more dark and twisted than you had first thought. This went beyond overprotectiveness and time outs, this was a clear show of obsession and possessiveness. In Hoseok’s eyes, you belonged to him.

And, upon having that realization, your husband returned home from work.

The bedroom door had been left wide open, giving you a clear view of Hoseok entering the apartment as he shimmied his jacket off of his shoulders and loosened his tie. Your arm curled around Jihoon tighter, pressing him even closer to your side like he was a life preserver, the only thing keeping you from being dragged down into the dark trenches of the sea. He felt safe to you.

The minute Hoseok looked up and caught sight of the two of you, the bleak and tired look that adorned his features drifted away and was replaced by that same fake smile, the one that never reached his eyes but lit up his entire face.

“There’s my two most favorite people in the world!” He called, pulling a laugh from Jihoon who raised his arms up in a gesture suggesting he wanted Hoseok to hold him.

Traitor.

Hoseok bounded into the room, lifting Jihoon up from underneath his arms and spinning him around before settling himself on the bed beside you with Jihoon on his chest, excited giggles shaking his entire body.

It startled you how normal this would have looked from the outside, minus your hand being cuffed. To anyone else it could have looked like any other family spending time together after a long day. A stay at home mother with her busy husband and their young son. Oh, how far that was from the truth.

“You hungry, buddy?” Hoseok asked, tickling his son's sides. “How about take out tonight?”

“Yeah!” Jihoon agreed enthusiastically.

“What do you think, Mommy?” Hoseok asked you, pivoting his head to the side, his dark eyes fixing you to your spot.

Play along.

“That sounds good.” You nodded, attempting to do some damage control from your actions earlier that day.

“Good answer baby,” Hoseok smiled, popping Jihoon off of him as he slid over to you, fishing the keys to the handcuffs out of his back pocket. His thumb gently stroked the reddened flesh of your bound wrist before freeing it. He held your wrist in his hand for a moment before pressing a long kiss to the irritated flesh.

“Behave.” He whispered into your skin, looking up at you through half lidded eyes before he flipped his switch again and bounced off of the bed in glee. “C’mon Jihoon, you can pick where we order from!”

~~~~~~~

The air had been thick with tension for the rest of the night, unbeknownst to Jihoon who was too excited to be with both of his parents to realize that there was anything wrong.

Jihoon had become a buffer between you and Hoseok, the little boy seating himself between the two of you on the couch with his food in hand while his legs kicked back and forth excitedly. A little hum of happiness left him with each bite of his food, completely oblivious to the dark look Hoseok was sending you over his head.

You had somehow managed to equally piss him off and excite him all in one day. You were scared of what it would be like when Jihoon had to inevitably go to bed, he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore.

There were few things you had been scared of in your previous life, and they were normal things for a person of your stature. You had been scared of being mugged, being kidnapped for ransom, having someone break into your apartment, or becoming a disappointment to your family.

Most of those things could have been remedied with a bodyguard. Never in your entire life did you ever think you would come to rely on a six year old boy, your “son,” to be your protection. It was strange how much could change, all in the course of one night, one mistake.

Once again, you had found yourself cradling Jihoon to your side, his body relaxing under your touch as he snuggled up against you. He gently guided your hand away from your lap, and onto his head, a sign that he wanted you to play with the short strands of hair.

You pulled your hands away from your legs and allowed your son to lay his head down as you softly stroked his hair in a calming, soothing motion. The light of the television was flickering, casting a blue glow onto his young features. His eyes had fluttered shut, his long lashes casting smooth shadows against the skin beneath his eyes. His breath was coming out slower now beneath your touch, the rise and fall of his chest becoming slower and deeper than before.

Jenny had been right about one thing, you would have had cute children. When you went back, a part of you was certain that you would miss Jihoon. Your little protector.

You jolted at Hoseok’s unexpected touch, his arm sliding behind your shoulders as he moved closer to you on the couch. An annoyed whine sounded from Jihoon at the sudden motion causing him to press his face against your legs in an attempt to escape whatever was disrupting his sleep.

Hoseok leaned closer, his warmth seeping into your side. He joined your hand on Jihoon’s head, lightly smoothing over his hair before speaking. “I think it’s time for bed, little man.”

“Noooo!” Jihoon whined, “I wanna stay with Mommy.”

“Not tonight, buddy. You need to be a big boy and sleep in your own bed.”

“I don’t wanna!” He cried.

Sensing an impending tantrum, Hoseok scooped Jihoon up into his arms and cradled him to his chest. He started rubbing his back in slow motions, bouncing lightly with each step that he took. Miraculously, you could see Jihoon’s eyes begin to droop shut, his fatigue returning in full blast.

Your parents never did that for you.

You watched as Hoseok retreated into Jihoon’s room, presumably to get him ready for bed.

Shit, your bodyguard was falling asleep.

Your body moved before you could think, flinging itself from the couch and sprinting for the bedroom. You couldn’t think of what to do, you knew that as soon as Hoseok was done with Jihoon he was going to come after you and you didn’t know what to expect. So, you did what any other grown woman would do.

You hid under the covers.

Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, the sound echoing through your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in fright. All you could do what lay there and wait for him, you were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable.

When you heard his footsteps rounding the corner you tried to slow your breathing, forcing your chest to rise and fall slower to make it seem like you had fallen asleep. If he bought it, then maybe he would leave you alone.

Unlikely.

He did the exact opposite. You could hear him close the door behind him, shuffling around the room as he got ready for bed. Your breath hitched in your throat as the lights flickered off, and the mattress dipped beside you from his weight.

It was dead silent in that pitch black room, the only sounds you could hear were the ringing in your ears, your breaths, and his.

You flinched in surprise when he latched onto you, dragging you backwards into the warmth of his bare chest.

You tried your best to remain calm, to breathe lightly, and to not move. But Hoseok was no idiot, and you were daft if you thought you could fool him.

“I know you’re awake.” He whispered, his nose pressing against your hair as he took in a deep breath, sending a sharp chill down your spine.

He remained quiet for a moment, his arms wrapping tighter around your body. The feeling was the same as if a boa constrictor was curling around you. Slowly increasing the pressure, tightening its grasp in an attempt to squeeze the life out of you. Slow, calculating, and intimate.

The arm that had looped around your middle lightly drew backwards, allowing his hand to slide beneath your shirt and rest on the bare skin of your waist.

“I think I know a way you can make it up to me.” He mumbled with his lips pressed against your throat.

His palm smoothed over the skin of your lower abdomen, just above the hem of your underwear as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, lips and tongue tracing over the bared flesh. Like a little lamb you had found yourself caught in the jaws of the predator, one snap away from the clutches of death.

You remained frozen from a blend of shock and fear, all sense of fight or flight leaving you and rendering you immobile. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to move, to pull away, to throw yourself off of the bed. But your muscles were tense, frozen in a state of pure anxiety and fear, you knew nothing more than the thought of keeping still like a rabbit in the face of danger.

He moved to the side, dragging you onto your back so he could settle himself on top of you. He braced himself with his arms on either side of you, caging you in with no room to escape. He gave you no warning of what he was thinking of doing, he merely swooped down and pressed his lips to your own.

A muffled squeak rattled in your chest, your heart suddenly thudding louder than before like an alarm sounding to wake you up. Your hands moved first, sliding onto his chest and barely applying any force, struggling to push him back. His skin was warm and smooth against your palms, an alluring honey shade that you would have been enamored by like you had been that morning, had you not been exposed to his true nature.

“Hoseok.” You said, finally breaking free of his kiss.

Your call of his name had the exact opposite effect of what you had hoped. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed his hips against yours, effectively pinning you to the mattress beneath him.

“Hoseok!” You tried again, trying to grab his attention.

“That’s it baby, keep saying my name.” He sighed, expertly rolling his hips against yours.

Oh. Oh no.

The sudden wave of arousal that washed over you was unwelcomed and even more frightening than anything else. You weren’t even in control of yourself anymore, that was what his presence did to you.

“Play along,” The words that Namjoon had told you were suddenly echoing in your mind.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the smooth roll of his hard length pressing against your core, light sparks of pleasure tingling throughout you. Shadows of fear still crept around in the back of your mind, the nape of your neck throbbing in a twisted reminder of the chip that lay beneath the skin.

Hoseok was in his own world, hell bent on teasing you until he grew tired of it. He shifted his weight onto one arm allowing his hand to delicately trace up the length of your body. His fingers just barely brushed your thigh, trailing upwards to trace the hollows of your hips before settling on your waist and rising up over the barrel of your ribcage that was exposed so nicely for him from your arched spine.

You were laying there, helpless for him, frozen from a state of arousal and fear that was blending perfectly into its own dark, tempting cocktail. You pressed your lips together firmly, smothering any whine that tried to force its way free from you when he pulled back, the motion of his hips stilling as he played with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know if you wanted to yell at him to go away, or scold him for stopping.

Either way, you didn’t have much say on the matter.

He tilted his head from side to side, his dark eyes tracing over your form from head to toe. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the heavy rise and fall of your chest, your wrinkled shirt, and the way your thighs and hips jerked from the loss of his touch. You looked adorable to him, he couldn’t deny the powerful feeling it gave him to see you so helpless beneath him. He was sick, and he loved it.

His fingers were still tracing the hem of your shirt, like he was contemplating removing it despite the both of you knowing it was inevitably going to come off. Hoseok was an impatient man, that much you could tell. He firmly gripped the bottom of your shirt and began to roll it up agonizingly slowly, that satisfied smirk still pinned to his handsome features.

“Whaddya say, hunny? Should we give Jihoon a sibling?” He laughed, his tongue flicking out to swipe over his lower lip at the thought of getting to see you full with his child again. He would be a liar if he said the thought didn’t turn him on.

All of the blood rushed to your face, your thighs tensing reflexively against him where he was settled between your legs.

“Is that what you want?” He hummed, hands settling on your hips and roughly pulling you down the mattress against him. “You want me to fill you up again, sweetheart?”

You didn’t get a chance to even consider answering his lewd question, a sudden shock of lighting and a deep roll of thunder caught the two of you off guard. The once pitch black room had been lit up by the blast of light, the windows shaking from the boom of thunder.

And then, there was the sound of crying and little footsteps.

Hoseok hung his head backwards in distress before rolling off of you with an annoyed whine echoing through the room. “God fucking dammit.”

“Mommy! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled before throwing the door open and scampering up over the foot of the bed, his little face wet with tears as he scrambled over the sheets and settled himself in between the two of you.

If you had questioned it before, you weren’t questioning it now. Jihoon was your savior.

“Jihoon, it’s just a little thunder, it’s nothing to be scared of.” Hoseok said, his voice a little sterner than normal, most likely from his case of blue balls.

“It’s scary!” The little boy rebutted, “I wanna sleep with you!”

“Jihoon -”

“It’s okay you can sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight.” You cut Hoseok off, opening your arms for Jihoon to snuggle into.

The look on Hoseok’s face would have been humorous if you didn’t know you were going to have to pay for it eventually.

Everything came with a price, eventually.

~~~~~~~

Hours melted into days, and days slowly migrated into weeks. You had begun to lose track of how much time you had spent in this other life of yours. But you knew you couldn’t stand it for much longer.

You could handle Jihoon, you liked Jihoon, you could stand even being there because of him. Hoseok...he was another story. He never hid his true intentions from you, that was for sure. But the more time you spent trapped inside that apartment the more you began to feel like you were going to lose yourself.

Sometimes you could forget what Hoseok really was, and other times he made sure to remind you. In this life, whoever this person was before you took over, they had never left the apartment since Jihoon was born. That was six years of their life spent trapped within these walls with no one to talk to except for two people who were only home for a few short hours a day.

It was isolating. It wasn’t unlike the lonely life you had lived before in those regards.

You were trapped, chipped, and alone. Any attempt you had made to leave by yourself, for any reason, had been swiftly thwarted by Hoseok. The knowledge of the tracker embedded in your neck reminded you that there was no point in running anyways, he would always find you.

You tried to remind yourself that this would all be worth it in the end, that you could handle these weeks if it meant getting your old life back. But as each week passed, you weren’t so sure that was true any more.

You were in a cyclical hell that you couldn’t manage.

You had opened the door one day at the sound of someone outside it, it had been a new neighbor, a young man with full lips and an unusual laugh. Your heart had soared at the opportunity of being able to speak to someone other than a six year old or your possessive husband, but that had been quickly thwarted.

Hoseok had pulled you back into the apartment and exited into the hallway, shutting the door behind him with a grim glare.

You never spoke to that neighbor again.

Hoseok had become more needy as each week passed and you had taken to sleeping in Jihoon’s bed with him as often as you could, feeling protected by the boy you called your son. But your distance didn’t help in any manner, Hoseok was becoming more aggressive and more irritable. Not with your son, never with your son, but with you.

He grabbed onto you more, touched you more, kissed you harder, and eventually forced you back into sleeping in your bedroom.

You faked an illness for a few days to keep him at bay. That was how you got to this point. He was desperate.

Hoseok was taking you on a work trip, just you, without your son. It was a city or two over, you would be staying at a hotel and having dinner with his coworkers there that same day. He was a desperate man calling for desperate measures to be alone with his wife. That meant that you had no more excuses and no Jihoon to protect you.

Jihoon had cried when you said you had to go away with Hoseok, he didn’t want to go and stay with Hoseok’s mother, he wanted you two. And that part of your heart that had grown to accommodate him was slowly breaking with each tear that rolled down his cheeks.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t love him.

You knew that you weren’t the best mother, you didn’t know what a good mother was like. Yours was efficient at best. So you dug down deep for what maternal instincts you had, held him close, dried his tears, and kissed his chubby cheeks.

And you told him you loved him. The first person you ever loved.

So, that was how you found yourself here, at a table with a bunch of boring men and their partners talking about their work with Hoseok’s hand gripping your thigh, his finger rubbing circles into the skin beneath the length of your dress.

You were incredibly bored of this ordeal. All of these men were business executives and their concepts of how to run a business were rudimentary at best. It took everything in you to keep your mouth closed to not correct them in front of their higher ups and embarrass them for the everyday mistakes they were making.

“Play along.” Namjoon had said, so that was what you did.

Although you may be a mother now, you would always be a business woman and a successful one at that. They didn’t deserve your expertise.

Your eyes lazily drifted away from the table, zoning out as their voices became reduced to a low rumble. And that was when you saw it, a flash of black fur and glowing jade eyes on the ledge outside the window.

Taehyung. It was time.

Your heart leapt with joy, a smile carving into your once stony expression. You could go home now, you could finally wake up from this nightmare. A sharp squeeze to your thigh grounded you, a pit rolling in your stomach. You had to get away from Hoseok.

He was staring at you, confused by the sudden appearance of your joyful grin.

You leaned close to him, whispering lowly, “I have to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll take you.” He replied, going to scoot his chair away from the table.

You gripped his forearm, bringing him to a halt. “No, this is important for you, I’ll only be a moment.”

He stared at you in silence, assessing you and trying to figure out what you were getting at before he spoke. “Behave.”

You nodded quickly before excusing yourself from the table and rushing down the hallway. You had seen a large balcony on your way to the restaurant on the top floor, it was only a little ways away.

As soon as you stepped foot onto the balcony, you saw him. Taehyung was there, resting on the balcony as the sun slowly drifted away behind a cover of clouds, a gentle rain was beginning to tap the marble floor beneath you.

You approached him quickly, your heart pumping in time with the gentle rumble of thunder above you. Taehyung came to a stand on the railing, the sharp drop off beside him glaring at you.

“We have to do it this way, again?” You asked, your hands wrapping around the railing beside him as you peered over. You were even higher now than you had been the first time, sharp tingles were shooting through your hands and feet as you stared down at the streets below.

Taehyung stared at you in silence, his eyes blinking slowly twice. You would take that as a yes.

So, you carefully sat yourself up on the railing and turned, allowing your feet to dangle over the ledge. You watched in horror as your heels slipped off and went plummeting down to the ground. It took them a long time to meet the pavement, it would be a long fall for you.

“Fuck, are all of you reapers this dramatic?” You hissed at the cat. He looked amused at your predicament.

“Okay, let’s do this thing.” You huffed, reaching your hand out to touch the reapers silky midnight fur.

And that was when you heard the panicked call of your name. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s. His face was ashen, his hands held up as he attempted to approach you. Your eyes caught sight of his phone held up in one of his hands, a blinking dot on a grid staring back at you. He had accessed your tracker.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He asked you, taking small, slow steps in your direction. “Come here, let’s talk, okay?”

“You can’t stop me,” You replied, “I won’t do this any longer.”

“You don’t know what you're saying, you're just stressed and scared. We can get through this.”

“I know what I’m doing, Hoseok. I’m done, my time is up and I need to go.”

“And what about me? What about Jihoon?”

Jihoon. A chill spread through your body, your eyes suddenly stinging. You didn’t know that would be the last time you would hug him or say goodbye. He didn’t know that was the last day he would have a mother.

“Jihoon will be fine.” You said firmly, Taehyung was creeping closer to you now at the same pace that Hoseok was. Your time was coming to a close, Hoseok was trying to compete with death. It was obvious who was going to win.

“I won’t let you do this.” He snapped back, frustration, desperation and fear taking over him as he flung his phone aside and began to run to you.

“You don’t own me.” You spat back.

And then you grabbed Taehyung and clutched him to your chest before slipping off the edge of the balcony, Hoseok’s fingers just brushing your skin before you plummeted off the side of the building.

Death was easier.

~~~~~~~

First, there was darkness.

And then there was the sound of monitors beeping around you.

Your eyes felt as heavy as lead, refusing to open on your command. And for a small, brief moment, you were afraid that when you opened your eyes he would be there. You were afraid that you had missed the window and you were trapped with him again.

But when you did manage to open your eyes, the person sleeping in the chair beside you was Jenny.

You did it.

Everyone was surprised by your survival and your recovery. The fall you had should have shattered your bones, mashed your brain, drained you of your blood. But you survived with minimal injuries. Some people called it a miracle, others thought you were a medical mystery.

And Jenny though you were stupid.

“What the fuck were you doing on that ledge? Were you that drunk or are you just that fucking stupid!” She yelled through her tears.

“Both.” You answered, your face completely deadpan as she rained down a series of hits to your arms in retaliation.

You laughed through it until she finally calmed down, a huffing mess in her chair beside you. “In all honesty, there was a cat on my balcony and I was trying to save it.”

“Oh my god, you are that fucking stupid aren’t you?” She said, shaking her head. “If you want a cat’s attention you lure it with food you dumbass! You are the dumbest smart person I know.” She sighed into her hands.

The two of you remained quiet for a moment as she collected herself and you took in the room around you. There were no cards, no balloons, and no flowers.

“So, I guess none of my family could clear some time in their busy schedules to come see me.” You said, quietly.

Jenny raised her head, sympathy etched into the features of her face. “Do you want honesty, or do you want me to sugar coat it?”

You bit your lip in thought before making up your mind. “Honesty.”

Jenny took in a deep breath before scooting her plastic chair closer to your gurney. “Your family is...distancing themselves from you for the time being.”

“Distancing?” You echoed in confusion.

“The media hasn’t taken too kindly to your...accident. Every tabloid is talking about the woman who has it all trying to throw it away. The public isn’t very happy with you at the moment.”

“The same wouldn’t be said if I had died.” You mumbled, because that was the truth. Nobody cared until it was far too late, their true intentions hiding beneath their masks of sorrow. It didn’t matter how much money you had, you had never been happy, and had your accident truly been an attempt well, maybe it was only a matter of time.

“And what does my family think?”

“They aren’t too happy with you either. Your mother and father have put on a face for the public, wishing you a speedy recovery, but they left you a memo. They aren’t ready to speak with you yet, not until you do something to find your way back into their good graces. Your siblings, on the other hand, have said nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

You had forgotten how lonely this life was. Thoughts of Jihoon tugged at your heart strings, his little whispers of “I love you’s,” your after school snacks and cuddles, and the soft voice he used when he would wake you up in the morning with a gentle: “Mommy?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Jenny said quickly.

Your brow wrinkled in confusion before you felt it, the cool, wet, glide of a tear rolling down the side of your cheek. You were crying.

“It’s not you, Jenny. I’m just thinking about someone I love.”

~~~~~~~

You had returned to work almost immediately upon being discharged from the hospital. Jenny called you stupid, you called it trying to return to your only family. You knew you shouldn’t care about their opinion, not when they so clearly showed their disappointment in you and their lack of care. But they were all you had, they were your family, your blood. They made you what you were.

Right?

So there you were, back to wearing those red bottom heels, those tailored suits, and those glasses you hadn’t touched in so long, hidden behind your desk in your office.

You had kept your cool and your composure when you entered the office, doing your best to show you were unfazed by the shocked stares and the hushed whispers between your employees. You kept your composure only to throw your office door shut and slump against it with panicked pants for air.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew you were never going to be the same anymore. Not after your fall, not after the crossroads, and not after Hoseok. You were broken in ways you couldn’t even comprehend.

Even now, sitting at your desk, eyes trained on your computer, your finger swept over the skin at the nape of your neck, mindlessly feeling for the bump, the tracker that was once buried there. You were only met with seamless skin and irritation from the constant rubbing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up rubbing the back of your neck raw.

A soft knock to your door had you sighing in relief, you needed some respite from the thoughts that were racing a million miles a minute in your mind. You were mentally exhausted from everything you had gone through. You removed your glasses, pressing your cool fingers to your eyes. Your hands were hurting again.

There was a loud crash as the door clicked shut, the sound of liquid spilling violently all over the floor of your office and the thick, strong odor of coffee. And then, there was the shocked gasp of your name.

A familiar chill traced down your spine at the voice, your heart kicking into overdrive. No, it couldn’t be. You rose from your chair causing it to spin away, your breathing quickening as you began to panic.

It was Hoseok, standing there in your office in a puddle of coffee.

Jenny’s words from all those weeks ago came flooding back into your mind. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”

You stepped backwards in fear, your world suddenly crashing down on you in one fatal swoop.

He called your name again, a similar panic on his face as he crossed the room in distress. “Please! You, you have to help me! I don’t know what's going on but it feels like my head is being torn apart!”

Tears were rushing down your cheeks in endless rivers now. You had walked so far backwards that you were pinned against the tall windows behind you with nowhere left to go.

“I have two lives, two sets of memories running parallel in my head and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t!”

You closed your eyes, your body shaking and shutting down the closer he got. And then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you in his grasp as he began to hyperventilate.

“Where’s Jihoon?! Where did he go?! He cried, his body trembling in tune with your own as he was bombarded with memories he knew and ones he didn’t. He was too close now, his body pressed tightly to your own in that same suffocating manner as he panicked, his mind being torn apart for reasons unknown to him, holding onto you to ground himself.

You were beginning to understand now amidst the haze of panic. Namjoon had said he was putting you in a different place, in a different time. He had never said in a different life. You hadn’t become someone else, you had been moved six years forward in time. Those painful weeks you had lived through with the guise of them being temporary had all been for absolutely nothing. You were doomed to live out the life you had been trapped in.

It was fate.

“Where is our son?!”

#bts #bts hoseok #bts x reader #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere hoseok #bts fanfic #yandere hoseok x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader

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dootdootwriting · 3 years ago

Note

AHHH CONGRATS ON 600!!! I hope you're doing well heehoo and if its okay can i ask for the whole alphabet with scaramouche?:3 (also pls don't overwork yourself jdjajdkdlfmmeis)

600+ event!!

this is my first time writing for scara so i hope i did okay aha,, under the cut for length!

fluff alphabet with scaramouche, gn reader, warning for inazuma quest/scaramouche backstory spoilers!!

why is his name so long

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

- scaramouche isn't super knowledgeable about relationships, so he'll just sort of tentatively ask what you want to do and go along with it (though he might act like it's a stupid idea the whole time). really he doesn't care what he spends his free time on as long as you're a part of it.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- well first of all, he admires the courage you've got to have to be with him in the first place. other than that, he also loves your smile (but you won't hear him tell you that out loud, unless you're not really asleep when he thinks you are)

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

- another thing he's alien to. at first just starts telling you to calm down and is pretty harsh about it. when he realizes this isn't working, he'll reluctantly take you into his arms and start awkwardly patting your head. it's funny how awkward it is and you end up laughing at him about it, which makes him annoyed, but at least now you feel better.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

- scaramouche... either wants you to be by his side as he conquers everything and shows the world just how strong he is, or he wants to do it alone. though it would be much better if you were with him and it makes him sad to think about you not being there in the end.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

- surprisingly passive, actually. he doesn't really know what he's doing so he lets you make most of the decisions about dates and spending time together. other than that though, he likes to drag you around to do whatever he wants.

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what’s their idea of a fun day out?)

- what's fun? on a day off, scaramouche will wander around and ponder his own existence. you'll have to take him to a market or a park or something so he can actually experience things first - once you do, you'll find he enjoys being alone with you somewhere quiet, where he doesn't have to listen to other people.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

- doesn't show it, but is definitely grateful, though he also doesn't know just how much of a hassle he can be. scaramouche just sort of assumed love was supposed to be unconditional... but he can tell when he's crossed a line, and he's grateful for you sticking by him despite everything.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

- obviously the one big secret is how he came into being in the first place, but once he trusts you enough to tell you about his being a puppet and a test, he's in all the way. he hides little things from you before that but once he's told you, you're in it with him forever whether you like it or not, and that means he doesn't keep anything else from you.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

- he's a lot more tolerable around you! you've been approached by fatui officers asking you "how do you do it?" and saying things like "thank you so much i totally thought i was gonna be yelled at today!" somehow you cool off his temper a bit.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

- JEALOUS JEALOUS JEALOUS man. he gets jealous so so easily and WILL confront you about it. after a while and once he knows he can trust you he gets jealous less frequently, because he knows you're with him for the long run.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

- bad kisser at first because he's probably never been in love before. he gets the hang of it quickly though! your first kiss was because he had to shut you up and he couldn't figure out another way how so he just kissed you. you yelled at him after that.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

- scaramouche confesses on purpose but in a really weird way. he plans it and everything - he takes you out to see the sunset and brings food (almost like a picnic) but then once he gets to the actual confession it's just like "how dare you do this to me? i stay awake at night thinking of you and somehow you're the most tolerable person i've ever met. childe had the audacity to call it love and to laugh at me so he got what he deserved. if you don't feel the same way i'll punch you too." but he doesn't end up having to punch you, which you're both very glad about.

M-Mornings (what’s it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

- he didn't have a reason to sleep in late until he started sleeping next to you. now he's stuck in his ridiculous sleep schedule so he always wakes up before you. but hey! bonus! now he gets to look at you while you sleep, which for some reason makes him extremely flustered (which is really cute to wake up to).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

- just calls you your name 🧍

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

- when he discovered he was in love he got angry at you. then he realized it wasn't your fault, and, actually, this wasn't such a bad thing. man were you confused though. for a solid week he just yelled at you for no reason. childe guessed correctly when he realized scaramouche's more-unusual-than-usual behavior, but he had the decency to hold his tongue around you.

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

- hates pda. will hold your hand and that's it if you try to kiss him in public his face will scrunch up and his ears will pull back instinctively. then he'll avoid you for the rest of the day.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they’re with you for no reason in particular)

- gently taps you at random moments, almost as if he's trying to remind himself that you're here with him.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

- scaramouche tries to be romantic? he's doing his best. he tries all the gooey stuff to make you happy like buying you chocolate and giving you stuffed animals but in reality he has little to no tolerance for this kind of thing and you have to reassure him you love him, not the classic romantic things he forces himself to do. after that he stops, which is a huge relief.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

- he's more focused on his own goals and climbing the fatui ladder, but he's also very invested in anything you're attempting to do. wholeheartedly believes in you, whether he outwardly expresses it or not.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

- scaramouche likes the security of his routine and the place your relationship is at. he gets embarrassed at pretty much any new milestone and needs some time to get to them, and he gets cranky when things change suddenly, so uh. no, he likes it better the way it is with little to no changes.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

- not very empathetic, but is very understanding. scaramouche lacks the ability to feel how you're feeling (is it because he isn't quite human?), but he does understand how you work and function, and the best ways to treat you depending on your mood.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

- since you're so important to him, you're about number two on his list of priorities, maybe almost tied with his work in the fatui. he can't stand people, but you've wormed your way into his heart, so he's not letting you go anytime soon.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

- any time you give him affection he's a little startled at first, but he comes to love it and eventually will ask you for hugs.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

- yes but ONLY behind closed doors. he's afraid if he so much as looks at you lovingly his underlings will laugh at him, and he definitely can't have that. when you two are alone, however, he absolutely cannot get enough of your touch.

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

- angry angry angry and makes it everyone's problem. when you get back from your trip the mood is dark and agents are running up to you like you're their savior "OH GOD YOU'RE BACK THANK EVERYTHING PLEASE SAVE US."

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

- he would literally kill for you (please tell him not to)

#scaramouche x reader #GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG DONT FLOP PLEASE #scaramouche #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #the balladeer #scaramouche hcs #doot's 600 event!#fluff alphabet #scaramouche fluff alphabet #gi scaramouche #fluff #scaramouche fluff #gn! reader #archon quest spoilers #2.1 spoilers

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest.

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you?

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths.

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 4 years ago

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A Lesson In Traditions [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Traditions Summary: After the brief spark, you felt between you and Din, you are longing for it to be recreated. And, maybe a shiny trinket from Mandalorian tradition can help you with that. Warnings: None I don't think ? Request: N/A

A/N: Some of you wanted a part two to A Lesson In Mando'a so here's the follow up! I might make this a series if anyone is interested

A/N 2: I made up the idea of betrothal necklaces. I don't think these exist in Mandalorian culture, but I took inspiration from water benders in Avatar the Last Airbender, because I thought the idea was cute! So credit to that series!

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Traditions PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Traditions

It had been a while since Din had told you what cyar'ika had meant, and ever since then the two of you had been dancing around each other. Surely, he knew you liked him by now- you had tried to hint at him several times: lingering touches, longer conversations, closeness to him. And, yet the Mandalorian remained oblivious. You supposed that no matter the species or creed, men were all as dense as each other.

You huffed as you held the child on your lap.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, little one," you murmured, "I think I'm having more luck communicating with you, than I am with your dad. ...Maybe I should just give up. He has his creed to follow anyway..."

The child looked at you, his head slightly tilted. His big eyes stared up at you. Despite not saying anything at all, you knew he was understanding you. He was a pretty great listener, even if he was only a youngling.

"You know, you're right. Maybe I- maybe we just need a day out. Some fresh air. What do you think? Do you want to take a little trip? We need some more supplies anyway, I'm getting sick of rations, and I'd like some fresh food. What about you?"

The child perked up at the mention of food, and you smiled.

"I'll take that as a yes," you giggled, "Let me go speak to your daddy."

You placed the child gently down in his bed, and made your way up to the cockpit, where Din was flying the ship. Your head peeked up from the ladder, and you clambered up and stood awkwardly for a second at the back of the room. Din heard you enter, and waited for you to speak. He turned his head ever so slightly, his beskar glinting from the faint light the stars around the ship were producing.

"Hi," you murmured, wandering over to where Din was sitting, "How far away are we from the next stop?"

"About an hour," Din replied, "Why do you ask?"

You fold your hands neatly in front of you, you shift your weight slightly forward, and almost rock on the balls of your feet.

"Well, I was thinking that I- well, us... You, me and the kid could take a trip to the local market on our next stop. It's just we need more food anyways, and I'm going a bit stir crazy. It'll do us some good to get some fresh air, especially the kid. He can't spend his whole life in this ship."

Din contemplates for a second.

"I know what you're going to say- It's dangerous, we're being hunted but-"

"-I was actually going to say okay."

"Really? I mean, great. Thank you!"

Din smiles under his helmet, not that you can tell, and continues, "As you said, we need food anyway, and the next planet we're going to land on is remote enough. It's definitely not Imp friendly either."

You nod, and flash Din a smile. The tension slowly builds in the room; you can feel his eyes on you. Despite not being able to see his eyes (hell, you didn't even know what colour they were), you could sense them: trained on you. You coughed awkwardly.

"I'm going to go check on the kid. Uh- Give me a shout when we're about to land."

"I will, cyar'ika."

Your heart jumps at the nickname.

~~~

As soon as you landed, you grabbed your bag, your gun and a set of knives. Despite not technically being employed by any bounty hunting guilds right now, it never hurt to be prepared: especially when the small green creature you were travelling with had such a high price on his head. And, then you turned to Din. He was also carrying his fair share of weapons, and of course the child. He was situated in Din's bag, his cute little face peaking out over the top. You smiled at him, before beginning to walk down the ramp.

The Mandalorian made his way into the town, with you by his side, and his small son literally at his side. He didn't feel uneasy about this place- it looked relatively safe, but he was still on high alert. And, he wanted you to be as well.

Despite having only known you a couple of months, he didn't dare think about the possibility of something happening to you. He knew he had to protect the child, that was a given, but the growing affection he had for you was uncharted. As a boy, he had learned about Mandalorians caring for foundlings (just as they had done with him as a boy), but romantic relationships were something out of his reach. He knew they occurred; they had to. The Mandalorians, while being a creed of highly trained soldiers, still held family at their core. After all, how were they to make more warriors without romantic relationships. But, truthfully, they were something unfamiliar to him. It had never been possible in his life, not with the creed. With you, his thoughts had begun to wander more and more lately. About you being next to him, being his family. He knew Mandalorians were allowed to take their helmets off for family, for those in their Clan. The more time you spent with him, the more he considered you to be apart of his Clan... He shook himself slightly. 'Stop,' he thought, 'You shouldn't have this on your mind. Y/N doesn't think of you that way. They're here for the child. That's it.'

If only Din knew how far from the truth that was.

"I need you to take him," Din says to you, carefully taking the child from his bag and handing him to you, "I'm going to go into the cantina, and see if I can find me- us some work. I trust you can manage to get us some supplies?"

"You insult me, my love," you laugh, holding the child in your arms, "I am more than capable. I hope you save me at least one good bounty. I can't let you have all the fun."

"I'll keep an eye out. Meet me here in half an hour."

"Will do, my love," you smile and walk away from him.

Din was glad for the distance being put between the two of you, because he was sure if you were any closer to him, you would be able to hear his heart racing behind his beskar. 'My love,' he pondered. He quite liked the way that sounded rolling off your tongue, perhaps even more than he liked hearing you say his own name. He gave one last look over his shoulder, just to make sure you were okay, before heading into the cantina.

~~~

You'd successfully made it to the market, and had made your way around over half of the stalls, and you had basically bought all the food for you and your Mandalorian. As you continued walking through the market, most of the stalls you passed by were food, but some were trinkets, toys, and even weapons. You'd hesitated by one particular booth. They were selling crystals, luxury cloth, and jewellery. Usually, you weren't one for such fine things (in your life style, things like that would end up ruined, stolen or pawned), but you'd been drawn in by one particular necklace. The chain was made up of two types of metal from what you could tell: a shinning silver, and a deep, darker grey. Attached to the chain was an unfamiliar symbol. It curved into a symmetrical shape, one that looked like two halves of a whole.

"That's real beskar, you know," the seller assured, "It would look beautiful sitting around your neck."

The seller was an older woman. She wore blue and purple robes, dirtied only a little by the sand- no doubt from the extensive sand desert that lay just outside the town. She had a kind face, her eyes smiling up at you. You'd almost forgotten to reply.

"What do you say? Can I interest you in such a fine, unique piece?"

"Oh, I'm not sure-"

"-I'm sure your husband would like it: it would match his own armour after all," the lady added, taking the necklace off of its stand and presenting it to you.

"Oh, he's not- He's not my husband. We're just travel companions, that's all."

"Someone should tell him that. The way he looks at you... Only few people are so lucky. Looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky."

"How do you know that? His helmet-"

"-There's some things you just know with age, dearie. Love is one of them."

You were rendered speechless. Did he really look at you like that? Was is that obvious? Did his heart beat for yours the way yours beats for his? You hardly had time to process the thought of you and Din together that close, as spouses, before the seller spoke again.

"So what do you say? Can I tempt you with this necklace? I can even throw in a free toy for the little one," she smiled, cooing to the child from across the table.

You looked at the seller, and then down to him.

"What do you say, little guy? Do you want a new toy?" you murmured to him; when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement, you knew it was all over.

"I think he said yes," the merchant laughs.

"I think you're right," you reply, reaching into your bag for your purse, "I usually wouldn't spend credits on a thing like this... But, it is quite beautiful. And, you do deserve a new toy."

You handed the lady her credits, and took the necklace from her. She'd placed it into a small, black, velvet box. The box had small silver hinges and a clasp at the front. You felt a little giddy. It had been a while since you'd made such an unessential purchase, and there was a small part of you that hoped if you wore this you might get the attention of a certain masked warrior. You shook your head, granted it was a little desperate, but you figured worth a shot.

The child also received his gift too. It was a small figurine of an animal. You weren't quite sure which one, but he seemed to like it, and that was good enough for you.

You slipped the velvet box into your bag, and caught a glimpse of your watch. Fuck, you were late. You jostled the child closer to your chest and began to almost sprint back to the cantina: you did not want to have to deal with a grumpy Mandalorian, least of all if you were the cause of his grumpiness. The closer you got, the easier it was to make out his figure.

"Look, before you say anything, I'm sorry I'm late. Time must have slipped my mind, and I ran into a strange lady at one of the stalls, and she sold me this- You know what, you probably don't need to know all that. Just know we've got enough food to last us at least a month, and the child had fun."

"He has a new toy."

"I- Yeah," you replied, "Not exactly an essential, I know, but don't worry I used my credits. Besides, it'll hopefully stop him wrecking your cockpit for a toy."

Din nodded. You don't know why you expected him to say more. He wasn't a man of many words, and you were apparently no exception. You made your way back to the ship with the Mandalorian in silence. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, but also it felt like you both had lots to say: you just didn't know how to say it.

"Did you buy anything for yourself?" Din asked, looking over to you as you reached the ship.

How did he know?

Din obviously sensed your confusion.

"I- You said that a lady sold you something, that's all," Din clarified.

"Oooh, oh that," you said, looking down at your bag, "Yeah, I did. A bit of an impulse buy if I'm honest, but the lady was too nice to deny. She sold me a necklace. Maybe you can help me put it on."

Din nodded; that should be easy. It was just a necklace after all. He'd fought off enemies twice his size, survived when the odds were against him, and was one of the best bounty hunters there was... It should be easy. So why was his heart racing?

You placed the child down on the floor of the Razor Crest, and reached inside your bag for the box. Your hands traced the inside of your bag blindly, before feelings the soft touch of velvet. Carefully, you took it out of the bag, and revealed the box. Din's eyes watched with intrigue. You unfastened the clasp and opened the box. It snapped back on its hinges, and revealed the chain.

Din's eyes registered the metal before his brain could even process it: a betrothal necklace.

"The lady said it was genuine beskar, but I'm not so sure. I think it's just silver, probably some iron too- but it's pretty either way. Do you mind helping me put it on still?"

Din's mind was still racing. He'd heard about the tradition of giving a betrothal necklace from urban tales and word of mouth from other Mandalorians, but he'd never actually seen one this close. The tradition stated that the Mandalorian proposing would take part of their beskar and part of their riduur-to-be's beskar and melt them into a necklace, with the two swirling around each other before eventually combining into a symbol at the bottom. Usually it was a good luck symbol, or for fertility. Something along those lines. It felt almost surreal seeing one close up.

"Are you alright, Din?" you ask, "Is something up?"

He wasn't sure if he should mention the tradition, what the necklace meant to the Mandalorians... It was basically a dead tradition now, anyway. There was no harm in not telling you, right? After all, there were very few Mandalorians left, and even fewer that managed to have the privilege of finding a riduur: you didn't need to know..

"No, no... I'm fine," he reassures, "I- Hand me the necklace."

Din took the necklace from you and instructed you to hold your hair out of the way. You obliged, and felt him lace the necklace around your neck before fastening it in the back. There was a small pause, where the two of you just stayed there: in the moment. It took everything in you not to shiver as you felt a rush down your spine. The sensation of Din's hands on you, even just for a moment, was almost too much. You turned around to face him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, holding the pendant of your new necklace between your thumb and your index finger.

"It suits you," he affirmed, "Mesh'la."

"Thank you," you blushed, making a mental note to ask what 'Mesh'la' meant at a later date, "I- I'm going to go put the food supplies away."

Din decided against telling you about the origin of your neckalce; you looked far too radiant wearing it for him to say anything that may shift the tone. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just let you walk past him. Part of him felt guilty for not saying anything, but another part of him selfishly thought it looked beautiful sat around your neck. For a moment he could almost imagine that he had given you that..

...That you were his riduur.

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infernal-fire · 4 years ago

Text

Love, At First Sight

Warnings: some extreme fluff, strong language/ swearing

Pairing(s): Ransom x you

Summary: Love, at first sight, doesn’t exist. And Ransom has never been proven otherwise.

Word Count: 1600

I was inspired to write this after reading “It Was Only A Kiss” by the Queen of fluff, smut, angst and everything in between: @navybrat817 :)

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Love at first sight.

That is the most ridiculous thing Ransom had ever heard. And he has heard some bullshit.

The only thing he could tell from looking at someone for the first time was whether they were of any use to him or not. So when Meg was rambling on about love, that too, at first sight, Ransom scoffed at the idea. He bit into his overpriced biscuit with a roll of his eyes, pausing the conversation that he was unwilling to entertain any longer.

“You know what Ransom, I’m not surprised you’re dismissing the idea without even hearing it,” Meg challenged.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” he retorted, a bit amused by her slight outburst.

“If your parents bothered with you, maybe you would understand what it’s like to be loved by someone.”

Although he didn’t show it, it struck a chord in him. It wasn’t something he dared to complain about anymore, but there was a time he would have done anything for their affection.

“Okay then, let’s hear this horseshit you’re spewing,” he replied, not breaking the façade of smugness.

“When you meet someone, your subconscious and unconscious mind pick up patterns in their behaviour, little mannerisms and anything it can get its hands on. Your conscious mind interprets that as vibes. So you get a bad vibe from someone, it’s ‘cause your mind recognizes it from somewhere else, someone you don’t like.”

“And what does this have to do with love at first sight?” Ransom impatiently tapped his foot.

“I have a theory that love, at first sight, is possible if you’re in tune with your intuition. You feel good vibes from someone, you ride with it. And there’s a possibility you’ll override the rational part of your brain that tells you that you can’t love someone right after meeting them,” she concluded. “But then again, this only works if you’re capable of loving someone. Otherwise, your brain has no one to reference,” she added.

Ransom’s jaw clenched before he took in a breath.

“Like I said. Just a bunch of horseshit,” he said, getting up to leave.

He called it horseshit but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It irked him that no matter how many girls he pulled, not one of them could make him feel the love had Meg described. He concluded that he was incapable of love because, of course, that was the only plausible explanation.

It was a friend’s birthday. To say the least, he was not looking forward to it. He was in a rare mood to stay home and call it a night instead of getting his dick wet. Unfortunately, his presence was promised - he would rather not hear about this later so he did his future self a favour and got ready.

His black pants were paired with a maroon sweater that cost a little less than his king-sized bed. A rose-gold watch adorned his wrist and he threw on his signature tan coloured coat. He didn’t want to go but he that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to advertise his status.

Walking into the party, he regretted his decision to come at all. The corners were brimming with drunk people, though it had been only 1 hour since the party started. Shrill and irritating voices rung through the air. As usual, girls of no substance clung to every word of the fabricated tales boys told. Despite this, the unsavoury circumstances invited him, called his name even. After all, this was the lifestyle he lived for.

Taking in the scene before him, he strode down the room. His presence alone demanded respect and attention, both which he got a surplus of at these events.

His stride was abruptly halted when a figure crashed into him, spilling wine down his chest. Sure, it blended in with the sweater, but he was still pissed. Someone didn’t notice him, which caused them to bump into him and that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Won’t you look where your going, for god fucking sake this is worth more than you,” he snapped at the unsuspecting girl.

You had a mess of your own to take care of. Wine slipped down your dress, between your cleavage and onto your stomach. You were going to apologize but you heard his comment, paused your sentence to look up at him.

Laughter echoed in the background and people called Ransom’s name but it was long forgotten when he saw you.

Love, at first sight.

It didn’t seem so ridiculous anymore.

The mere sight of you was a harsh contrast to the cruel world he has dealt with his entire life. It was like the universe wrapped and presented you as the embodiment of a second chance for his life. To think that love, at first sight, was ridiculous.

Your beauty wasn’t something he understood. It wasn’t like the beauty he sought during the lonely hours of night, when he simply required a bedwarmer to ease the ache. It was memorable, almost like a blend of warm vibrancy; a feeling resembling that of the summer’s sun, kissed his skin ever so delicately.

He thought he was dying for a second. His hands were tingly and would not ease up no matter how much he clenched and unclenched them. His heart dove straight to his stomach, refusing to come up for air as long as he continued to look at you.

You on the other hand, you were conflicted. You were going to give him a piece of your mind for talking to you like that but one look at him and you wanted to run away. It was too intense for you.

His piercing stare mirrored the moon, melted and poured into the mould that he called eyes. His aura radiated coldness. Yet, you just knew that his hands would be as warm as a bonfire during a snowstorm. Being around him would be like the slight sting that you felt when winter’s breeze grazed your skin. That sting, no matter how painful, is rewarding when you consider his arms that would envelope you as a blanket.

Momentarily looking into each others eyes, both of you knew. You just knew. You were both thinking the same thing. It felt like eons had passed since the wine spill but logically, you knew it had only been seconds.

“Don’t talk to me like that” you finally blurted. No matter how enamored you were with him, you needed to knock him down a few pegs.

“I-I… I’m”

“You’re?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stuttered. He felt like he would never recover from this embarrassment.

“I-uhm. It’s okay. I just…” you trailed off, realizing you weren’t even sure what to say.

“Can we get out of here?” he piped up.

It took you by surprise because you were thinking the same thing. You considered it too bold a thing to say but here he was.

You held his wrist and led him out. As soon as you marched out the door, he pulled his arm up, and you assumed he was going to take it out of your grasp. He surprised you though, instead, holding your hand.

The dress and the sweater became irrelevant; all either of you could focus on was the warm grip you both had on each other’s hands as you strolled through the overly extravagant neighbourhood.

Part of your mind was screaming at yourself, as was his. He could kill you, you thought. Or do worse. And here you are, walking with a complete stranger through a neighbourhood you don’t even know.

“I thought you felt it too,” he confessed. “That’s why I... really, I don’t ever do this.”

The old Ransom would have said ‘I know you felt it too.’ It hadn’t been ten minutes since you met him and you were already changing him.

“I've never done this either. I mean frankly, you could be a murderer and here I am, holding you hand,” you joked.

“I’m not a murderer,” he chuckled, “But I can’t help but feel a little weird about this.” You looked up at the moon-less night, convinced that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“I know… I-... I don’t even know your name,” you giggled and his heart fluttered around his chest. He couldn’t compare the feeling to butterflies - it was more like hummingbirds, refusing to settle.

“I felt something and it’s weird ‘cause I was so scared. I was scared and overwhelmed by this sort of dread. Dread that was like, what if you didn’t feel the same way?” you rambled, only slightly cautiously. You knew nothing of this man, and you were laying out how you felt in the open?

“My name is Ransom,” he stopped the stroll and faced you, picking up your other arm.

“Y/N” you meekly responded, having difficulty meeting his eyes. You had never felt such a burn in your cheeks, yet right now, you felt like your face was on fire.

“Hey, hey” he softly tilted you chin up. “Can we run with this? Whatever this is?” He would get on his knees and plead if he had to. Because you were right; he felt like he would die if you didn’t feel the same way.

“Please. Let’s run with this. Whatever this is, let’s just run with it,” you agreed and nodded lightly, not breaking out of the stare.

“What is this?” he uttered under his breath and rested his forehead onto yours.

You closed your eyes and breathed in the same air as him. His warmth and scent reminded you of sugar cookies and pine trees.

He took in a breath and felt the aroma of vanilla and fresh roses evade his senses.

“I don’t know. But I like it,” you breathed.

He cupped your face and pulled away to look at your face again. He planted a delicate but firm kiss to your forehead as you encased his waist with your arms, naturally gravitating towards him. He tenderly held your face as he pulled away. One look and you were a goner, but now, you’re utterly floored by the mere thought of him.

Love, that too, at first sight.

Wasn’t horseshit after all.

Masterlist

Tag list: @partiesandblurrypolaroids

Other: @mculibrary

Shoot me a message or fill out the form in my bio to be added to my tag list!

#ransom #ransom drysdale #knives out #ransom x you #ransom x reader #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #fluff #fic #fic rec

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animated-moon · 4 years ago

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dating kuroo hcs

feat. very flustered kuroo

warnings: a few swear words

a/n: rue actually inspired me to write this (yk, tHAT convo about kuroo-) sO EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU RUE also i tried my best but kinda failed </3 this is hella long and i didn’t even realize it when i was writing-

☆。*。☆。

before

» sHY. that is all i have to say.

» he’ll get so flustered sometimes (like when you look extremely good that day like damn-)?? its so fvcking cute omg-

» it’s just my opinion but i feel like the fandom portraying kuroo has a literaly s*x god is really- uh- very far away from canon kuroo (pls the most badass thing he tried to do outside volleyball is picking a fight with a wild yaku)

» i don’t think he’ll be one to flirt per se

» maybe accidentally-

» but when he realizes it i feel like he’ll go all KurooTetsuro.exe has stopped working. Reboot? aND JUST SHUT DOWN ADKGJNKRJGNK

» “so then tora-kun was like- kuroo-san? are you okay?”

» “yes! please continue” while looking like manz got a fever and trying not to grin

» he might even turn as red as his jersey hAHAHA

» kenma had to lecture him to get him to confess smh

» “kuro, just confess already. y/n definitely likes you back.”

» “kYANMAAAAAAAA-”

» he probably confesses really cheesily while stuttering (or it just slipped from his mouth) so you had to literally do a double-take

» *camera zooms to the entire Boy’s VBC watching from a corner*

during

» he gives me very strong single-and-always-has-been vibes and i have no idea why

» he’ll get used to all the affection so he’ll become a little cheeky at first and always teases you

» but oh boy.

» the first time y’all held hands? disaster.

» it was probably one of those classic scenes from shoujo mangas where you’re walking really near each other and your hands brushed together

» bOY ALMOST YELPED

» he was jst thinking about how he wanted to hold your hand and??? this happened

» became so nervous his palms were sweaty

» i mean like who wouldn’t they just touched the hand of their absolutely breathtaking partner (aka you)

» after mentally chiding himself (and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants) he gathers up the courage to hold your hand

» but that doesn’t mean hes not sHy :))

» “kuroo? are you okay? your face is really red”

» poor kuroo

» after that first hurdle though it’s probably fine

» he takes a while to initiate more intimate stuff tho pls don’t rush him <3

dates

» sTUDY DATES STUDY DATES

» need help with chem (yes i do)? manz got you

» he gives me a let’s-go-to-a-carnival vibe too so why not

» dates with him are iMMACULATE

» a gentleman and would always have an arm around your waist/holding hands with you so that nasty people take the hint

» i feel like if anyone actually dARES to confront yall he’ll give them t h a t face (yk- the one he gave daishou) and tell them not very politely to go away

» even if he’s busy he’ll still walk you home every day (if you waited for him aft practice which ofc, you do) and maybe y’all go on little convenient store dates heehee

overall + extras

» we mustn’t forget:

» “you’ve been a little moody lately. eat more carrots, they contain carotenoids, which may produce a bump in your happiness”

» “tETSU-”

» a lil whiny and the team is all uHHHH- at how he behaves around you sometimes

» not really into pda but (as i said) always holds your hand in public

» “tetsuuu are you being protective?”

» *cue kuroo trying to come up with a response*

» “as your tall boyfriend i have to make sure you’re not lost in the crowd-” *gets kicked*

» if you’re taller than kuroo tho (you giant) he’ll just pout

» the vbc approves you <3 welcome to the family

» 10/10 would date *chefs kiss*

- fin <3

@flairlust @tsukisemi

#kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #tetsuro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu!!#🌗 — moondust

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gojology · 4 years ago

Text

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (2/2) (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | woooo, part 2 ! as stated previously, this is heavily inspired by @/mystic-sky on tumblr or skyfelt on ao3. amazing writer, check her out (but this isn’t a direct copy, just same storyline in a way). i’m cleaning up my writing a lot, i think. maybe im getting better as well? probably not but uh i kinda gave up at the end and uh.. hope u enjoy.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Voyeurism To Some Degree, Teasing, Ripped Tights, I didn’t proof read. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom! Gojo x Sub! Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 4561

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | In which you finally get fucked by this mysterious, yet freakishly handsome stranger. That’s it, you just get fucked.

The first thing you realize is how cold it is. The wind is working against you, it seems, as you take your first step out of the warm building. Hair blows in every direction, you button up your cardigan, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke. Shivers went down your spine. Not too far behind you, the mysterious man that you had met just an hour ago trailed behind, winking and waving at the girls confidently using him as eye-candy. Long strides, hands shoved into his pockets. Your heart swells as you watch other woman stare flirtatiously as he gestured back at them, before their eyes set on you. He followed you like a duckling, and you’re sure to relish in how powerful it made you feel. He walked like a model, with so much confidence. He didn’t appear as cold, his cheeks were flush and he reeked of fruity sugary alcohol, a playful grin still stubbornly on his face, 5 minutes later. “Uber should be coming soon... I think, too lazy to check. You cold?” he slurred huskily. You nod. For a one night stand, he was strangely kind to you. He doesn’t say anything after that, so you opt to listen to the life around you. The clicking of high heels, the chatter, the drunken rants. “Aw, come here.” He didn’t give you much of a choice, though. Pulling you in to his chest, without warning. Your first instinct is to scream bloody murder, but he’s so warm, and you definitely need it. One loose arm over your figure, his unoccupied arm dangled dangerously close to your butt. Taking in a deep breath, anticipating the feeling of being so scandalous in public, he chuckles breathily, almost like a taunt. You can feel the rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat. You stare up at him, confused as to why you’re not feeling anything in your lower regions, before you realize what he was doing. Rubbing your head with the once unoccupied hand, his fingers weaved into your hair as he sniffled. Something about the interaction was strangely intimate, but you don’t dare to say a word. You inhale sharply, rubbing your face into his chest. You want to get closer, deep in bliss as he seemed to return the want back. You want to close any remaining space between the two of you, but making the first move was scary. He yawns, and this triggers you to yawn as well. It was probably well past 1 AM by now, and you were tired. You couldn’t hear much around you other then the honk of the growing sea of cars, some people just starting their night, and the others ending it. “Oh shit. Our Uber’s here.” he mutters under his breath, pushing you out of his chest gently. Whining, you try to push yourself back into his arms, he takes a quick glance down at you, traces of a faint lukewarm smile playing upon his lips. Almost like he’s saying, “Are you kidding me right now?” before taking a hold of your hand. Fingers intertwining as if they were meant to be together, you gawk down at your hands, before looking back up at him. There were a few issues, one, you had no idea if this man had an intent to kidnap you. Second, you didn’t know what the Uber looked like, and you’re too embarrassed to ask. Third, he was holding your hand with no hesitation, and the feeling in your chest was indescribable. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you hope that it’s something along the lines of what you’re thinking. Your eyes briefly flickering over his jawline as you pondered to yourself, but what you do know is that you’re being dragged towards the presumed Uber. It’s sleek, and black, with a glossy finish, you note. “Yo chill, I’m not gonna kidnap you, missy.” chuckling, examining your doubtful, yet frightened expression. He swung open the car door carelessly. “After you, m’lady.” he adds, bowing and straightening, his chin up. “Thank you, Sir Mysterious.” you give him a small smile before sliding into the sleek, comfortable seats. His eyebrow raised, he looked at you. “That’s a first.” “It’s also a shit nickname, maybe that’s why you’ve never heard it.” you suggested. “I like it. Has a nice ring to it.” a lukewarm smile played at his glossy lips. The sly smile wipes clean off your face, he laughs at you while sliding into his designated seat, as if he owned the car. Right. You were in a car, and it would be best for you to study your surroundings, just to make sure you weren’t being kidnapped. The car was obviously expensive, black leather reclining seats, and a sweet offering of warmth against the chill of the midnight air. A coffee cup idly stood in the cup holder, the driver taking a quick sip and turning his body to look at you two. Air fresheners and various trinkets dangled from the rear-view mirror, swinging back and forth “A couple, eh? You wanna go to this address?” The driver whipped his phone out, an address in black, bold text stood out. “Yep.” the man says confidently. Opening your mouth to speak, you try to inform the driver that he wasn’t your boyfriend, before your supposed boyfriend covers your mouth with his hand as soon as the driver repositioned towards the steering wheel. You realize that his other hand is on your thigh, stroking your skin. This newfound position was at the very least, terrifying. There was another person in the vehicle, for starters, and you weren’t exactly the quiet type when it came to, well, anything in general. Cold, large calloused hands considerately caressed your thigh, and your breathing hitches. His other arm against his side, but you know his fingers are itching to feel you all over. You want to moan, but the driver’s presence is enough to tell you that it would be stupid. Fingers drawing shapes, words, anything would repeatedly loop on the sensitive skin just barely. He was definitely teasing you, but you couldn’t quite fight back. “Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” he whispers, you anticipate the driver to look back at the two of you, and to throw both of you off the car, but he does no such thing. Feebly, you raise your arm up, ignoring the flirtatious request. Swatting his hand away in a desperate attempt to get him to stop before it got out of hand, but he’s persistent. It’s getting even more difficult to breathe quietly now, your body getting hotter and hotter and hotter. It doesn’t take long for a noise to slip out from your lips that you can’t quite shut up, and the driver turns to look at you. “So precious.” the white haired man mouths to you before quickly turning his head to look at the window, humming to himself, still caressing your thigh. “Ma’am? Are you okay?” About to respond, the white haired man scooched closer to you. His clothed leg now rubbing your bare skin. He whistles innocently in the opposite direction before skimming his hand against your inner thigh, and you almost shriek. Instead, you let out a pathetic gasp. Panning his gaze over to you, he gives you a sly, playful smirk, before looking away again. Drawing more shapes onto your skin, he hums. It was so hard to focus, or even remember the words the driver had said literally just a minute ago. You feel yourself shiver, almost losing yourself entirely to his hands before shakily responding to the driver, praying to any divine figure in the skies that you would be coherent. “Y-yeah. Just, spilled water on m-my clothes.” you reply, barely audible. The driver’s eyes stared back at yours, concern etched onto his features, before sighing. Tension grew inside of you. “Alright, if you need anything, just ask, okay ma’am?” Trying to respond, no sound comes out of your mouth, and the reason dawns on you. Taking a quick look down, the man’s digits were now fumbling with your panties, brushing against your wetness. It takes a moment for you to register in your brain, you thank every entity possible for preventing the inevitable slew of noises you’d make. Waves of need crashing over your body. You hungrily stare at him, hoping that he’d be kind enough to stop and save it for later. Circling your entrance through the now utterly soaked panties, he dips his finger in, just enough so you could feel the slight pressure against your sensitive skin. He’s fucking taunting you again. Driver be damned, you needed him. Opening your legs more, you confidently peer at him, inviting him to explore your body even more. His fingers are drumming against the leather surface, the other hand had retreated back to your thigh, boldly looking at you back. “No. I thought you didn’t want to, what’s with the change of thought?” he mouths, stifling a chuckle and a smug tone, already knowing what you were going to ask. Bewildered, you gape at him before shaking your head curtly, making sure you’re staring daggers at his stupidly arrogant face. “Stop fucking playing with me then!” “You’re too cute.” “Fine then.” closing your legs, you stare out the window, your chin sitting on the palm of your hand. Flickering blurry lights passing by quickly. Looking at your reflection, you steal a quick glance at the flirtatious bastard. “If you’re so angry, why can’t you look away from me for 1 second?” he whispers proudly. You can’t think of a snarky remark, so you huff and look back at the window defeatedly. What a cocky arrogant little- Your bruised pride burning into ashes, you grunt in response before the car abruptly halts to its stop. Were you two too loud? “What are you two so scared for? Freezing up like a deer in headlights, we’re at your destination.” the driver said, twisting his head around, his eyebrow slightly raised. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” That was way too close to comfort, and you’re resisting the urge of banging on his chest for being so overly confident in his endeavors. You open the car door, cursing under your breath, swinging your legs out and lightly stepping out. First thing you realize in the new destination? This guy was obviously loaded. In front of you were a bunch of condos, and it was bound to cost a lot. Modern architecture was all you could see, wide windows and balconies in every corner. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about your outfit, were you too poorly dressed? The man hums, placing his hand on your shoulder. Plant life was meticulously placed in such a beautiful manner that you promise yourself that you would search up his name- if you ever got it, on the Forbes lists. “Like what you see?” Snapping out of it, you look back at him, and you nod, still astounded by his presumed riches. “Yeah? Lets go up missy, I got more to show, in more ways then one.” ‧₊˚✩彡. Standing in front of his door, you realize how quiet and still the atmosphere is. He fumbles with his keys, muttering to himself, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to have sex with some celebrity. Not knowing how to start conversation, you clear your throat. “You ever going to tell me your name?” “Aw, the little baby still wants my name.” he cooed “Call me Gojo.” he adds nonchalantly. “(Y/N).” you reply, ecstatic. That wasn’t too hard, but you wonder why he didn’t just give up his name to you at the club earlier. Perhaps he didn’t think he was going to take you back? “Aw, sugar. You scared?” Gojo says, looking you up and down. Well, that’s what you assumed. He still had his glasses on. “No I’m not, who said that?” “Look at your legs, missy.” he cheekily replies. Looking down, you realize you’re violently shaking, and you didn’t even realize it. “...Maybe.” you say coyly. He breathily chuckles, finally opening the door with the right key. You’re surprised by the presence of such a spotless place, a large, plush black leather couch was in one corner, the other, an island. Amazingly large windows replaced what would usually be the walls, and you could see the extent of the city life from where you’re standing. “Slip your shoes off girly, sandals on the left. Can I offer you something?” Gojo questions you, walking over to the island. “...I’m not much of a drinker.” you reply, still standing in the doorway. You were honestly more interested in him then the small talk. “Baby, sit down. Don’t you wanna see me up close?” he pats the cushioned island seats, and you sheepishly walk over. “I have apple juice too. If that’s more your vibe.” you watched him swirl some melting ice cubes around in a glass of water with a spoon. “I’m not 12.” you retort, maybe the guy wasn’t a celebrity. No famous guy has apple juice in the fridge, rather then fancy champagne and wine. Gojo snickers, “Hey, I’m not 12 either, I’m nearing my fucking 30′s but I can never reject a good box of apple juice, plus, I teach a group of kiddos that drink this shit like it’s fine wine.” You pause, this guy was NEAR 30? He certainly didn’t look the age, and second of all, he bought apple juice just for the kids he taught? That was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t explain the richness. “You’re a teacher?” you nod as he hands you a chilled box of apple juice. “Uh, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck. “International Japanese teacher, sometimes I just teach in Japan as well. It pays good.” “No way you actually live here. Is this your friends place?” He laughs loudly, “So backhanded, and sassy! Nah, this is my place. As I said, job pays well. Feel free to stop by for a good fucking.” he says whilst pouring liquor into his glass cup. “You’re really confident in your abilities of fucking people.” you sarcastically note aloud as he slides into the comfortable tall stool next to you, drink in hand. “Hm, you weren’t saying that when I was touching you in that car, brat. How strange.” sipping his beverage lightly. Your mouth zipped shut, and he laughs again. “Aw, don’t go all awkward on me.” his once vacant hand now rubbing your shoulder. Setting down his drink, taking off his glasses. He doesn’t give you much time to admire his eyes, but what you can see is an almost aquamarine color, flecks of darker blue sprinkled throughout. So brilliantly colored it didn’t look real. Before you realize it, he leans closer into your neck, suckling your skin and lightly nibbling. His breath fanning over your delicate skin, you can’t even hold back, gasping a little as his hands played with the hem of your cardigan, tugging at it playfully. You can’t even formulate words. He was undeniably good, his suckling now gradually getting more harsher and harsher, and you dread coming back to your friends place, neck full of hickeys, you’d be nudged for whoever did that to you for the rest of your life. He grunts, standing up in the little space between what was his stool and yours, even on such a surprisingly tall stool he still towered over you. He has to slightly crouch before his eyes is at the level of your neck, hungrily crashing back down. “G-Gojo!” you squeaked, struggling to do much of anything. You’re limp on the stool, slumped and burning up. Your skin was ridiculously hot. “Hmmm?” he smiles into your neck, pausing momentarily, you can feel him exhale harshly on your skin. You look him up and down, the sexual tension between the two of you was prominent, and so was the tent in his pants. You feel a whine creep up towards your throat, now realizing just how wet you are. Ignoring this, you gesture to your clothes. The layers were sticking to you, and you never wanted anything more then to just get the sex started. “...Hot.” is all you can muster pathetically. “What was, baby?” he coos at you. “Me.” shrugging off your cardigan the best you can, you let out a subtle whine, the weird feeling growing between your legs. “Yes, we both know you’re hot.” tipping your chin upwards to look at him, he smiles. “use your words.” “Clothes.. Off.” you pant, obviously sick and tired of the stupid sexual tension and the teasing. “Full sentence, girly.” he repeats, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You inhale his scent, smelling of expensive cologne and lingering sickeningly sweet alcohol. Looking up at him, but averting your gaze as soon as you saw those incredible eyes once again. “Look at me.” he orders. You peer up at him, swallowing. “P-please, take my clothes off.” you say politely. “All it took was a few hickeys? You really are a pretty kitty.” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Get down.” You nod obediently, getting off the stool and looking back up at him, anticipating his next step. He bends down, swooping you up bridal style. One arm under your legs, gripped firmly onto the skin, the other under your waist. Your arms instinctively and rather slackly around his shoulders. You expect something, a kiss, anything, but all Gojo does is walk down an endless hallway full of doors. You lean closer into him while pouting, hoping that’ll catch his attention, but he doesn’t say a word. “Where are we going?” you finally ask, growing needy. “Bedroom. I’m not fucking on the couch. Pretty princesses deserve to be nice and comfy.” he replies back, fidgeting with the door knob. For a few seconds, all you can hear is how rapidly your heart is beating inside your chest, the rustling of clothes brushing against one another, and then the feeling sets in again. You could very well be fucking someone that was out of your league. He breathes a sigh of relief, and before you have the time to fully study his bedroom, he throws you off of the bed with a grunt. Gojo’s toned forearms by your side, you were obviously trapped. You can see his chain just dangle barely swing back and forth on the tip of your nose, his lips curled into a lukewarm smile. “You were so cheeky with me earlier, where’d she go?” stroking the corner of your lips. He doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead locking lips with you and rolling over to be on your side. It starts off small and soft first, but it gradually grew hot. The fluttering in your chest only intensified. Tongues exploring every inch of one another’s mouth, you swear you can taste mint. The anxiety melted off of you like wax, and the only thing he could focus on was how soft you felt against his lips. Delightfully experienced enough for it to be good, but not better then him. The smell of him was stronger now, and you’re sure you won’t be able to leave without some of it remaining on your clothes. Regardless, it was an addicting smell. Something you needed to come back to. Furiously exhaling through both of your noses, he finally lets go. Dazed, your whole body tingles. You want him to claim you all as your own, hungrily staring at him for more. Both of you were radiating heat. The kissing left little for thought, and all you can think about is kissing him once again. It seemed that the more you spent with him, the more demand you had for his attention. “Such cute noises. Makes me want to ravish you more.” Gojo tenderly pulls you in, claiming your mouth as his once again. Fumbling with your cardigan, yanking it off of your body. Large, hot hands brushing against your now semi-exposed skin, and you know he wants more. His hands brushed against your butt under your skirt, and you shiver just a bit. Pulling out from the kiss, he looks at you, panting heavily. “So beautiful.” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your swollen lips. “You wanna know why they call me the best?” You nod, his arm snakes above your waist, forcefully flipping you down head first into the blankets. Just now realizing that all your clothes are no where to be found, presumably on the floor, you shiver at the cold air conditioner blowing against you. That is, besides your skirts and your tights. “On your arms, baby. Knees too.” he instructs, patting your butt. You obey, a warmth rushing to your cheeks again. He had you like a dog being trained by it’s owner, following their every order. “Good girl.” he says under his breath. You’re about to tell him that you’re still wearing tights, about to open your mouth, you heard a loud rip disturb the peaceful atmosphere, and a cold exposure to your lower regions. You squeal, digging your face into the covers, and he chuckles again. “Oh baby. You were begging for this, I can see why now.” you felt him drag his fingers against your panties, and you whimper. “So impatient for my touch, aren’t you kitty? You’ll have to wait.” About to complain, you look back at him before you find him shoving you down, sitting on your knees now, your nipples hardened in the air, but you want to be stimulated else where. “Be patient, and you’ll be rewarded, no complaining.” “But-” he cuts you off. “Don’t fucking talk over me, you got that?” “...Yes sir.” His eyes soften, and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his hands brushed against your nipples, rubbing them with his thumb. Rolling the sensitive bud, you loudly moan, trying to express that you wanted more. “God, you’re so cute.” he says under his breath, still rubbing and now slightly pulling them. Placing his mouth upon the abused buds, you stifle a cry out. Gently suckling, he used his other hand to play with the other attention-starved nipple mildly. You whine out again, beginning to melt under his stupidly experienced hands and mouth. The attention was nice, but you needed it some place else, his eyes looked up at you, his wet mouth still suckling your breast. Taking his wet mouth off your nipple, he looked at you, mischief still evident on his face. “You like that?” he says, cocking his head to his side. “I-If I say anything, It’ll fill your stupid ego.” you breathed. “And if you don’t say anything I’m not doing shit.” his hand now rubbing your butt. “You ripped my tights!” you spat back. “I’ll pay for it and more, no bother babygirl. Now tell me what I want to hear.” He obviously wasn’t lying, he could probably turn any girl into putty if he just wanted to, and here you were, in the palm of his hand. “...Please touch me more.” you uttered shamelessly. “Good girl. On your back, spread those pretty little legs for me too, why don’t you?” Lying down on the plush mattress and warm pillows, you stare at the ceilings. You peered at him starting where he left off. Giving you faint, yet chaste kisses on your breasts, trailing kisses down your stomach. “Aw, your panties are absolutely fucking soaked baby, how cute.” he cooed, parting the soaked fabric to the side. You look at him undress thoughtlessly, but you’re sure he’s done this several times. He did it with little to no effort, but that would mean that you’re not special. It would be useless to think about right now, you were gonna have the dicking of your lifetime anyway, it was called a one night-stand for a reason. The mountain of clothes grew taller. Growing impatient, you look up to where he was once standing, only to find him already in between your legs. “So pretty.” Gojo purred, circling your entrance just as he had done previously in the car ride, you squeak. “So lucky this is all mine.” Gojo had figured he could add, “for the night.” but that strangely felt wrong. He dips his fingers into your walls, and you cry out. Wrapping around his digits, sobbing, this wasn’t enough to satisfy your cravings. “You want more?” he huskily said, a tone of playfulness still rampant. “Yes! Please, just fuck me!” you croaked, already damn near about to cum from the teasing. “That’s my girl.” he whispered under his breath, slipping off boxers you didn’t even realize were there in the first place. He doesn’t give you a chance to see his full length, instead ramming inside of you. You inhale sharply at the sudden disruption. The throbbing evaporated into thin air, and you’re desperately grabbing at the sheets to steady yourself. Sweaty and sticky skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room, along with your moans and his grunts. You could feel him reaching heights that you would never be able to do with the dildos you had at your house, much less your fingers. One hand on your waist to steady your flailing body, the other, roughly groping your breast. You were finding it hard to think, pleasure and euphoria filling your senses. Unknowingly, you wrap yourself around Gojo even harder then before. “Fuck, baby, I can barely pull out.” he panted. “you’re too tight.” You can’t even begin to respond, still deep in your state of pleasure, instead responding incoherently with a jumble of delicate moans and gasps in between. “C-cum!” “Hm? Repeat that princess?” he soothed. You’re unable to respond again, instead you try to lift your head up, and Gojo feels himself throb again, watching your eyes flutter back. It’s not until it’s too late, realizing a hot fluid flow down your holes. He pulls out, he himself ejaculating on your stomach. Both muscles stretched taut, you both laid on the bedsheets, sweating and panting. “Fuck, I haven’t had a girl like you in a while.” he says, turning his head to look at you. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “R-Really?” he kissed your forehead, tipping your chin with his long fingers. “Yes, really. I’m so lucky I spotted such a pretty little thing at a club.” The sun was starting to rise, you note, and you realize just how perfect his body is with the new light. A sudden warmth on your cheeks, you look down, still panting. “Clubs aren’t my thing.” you said breathlessly. “Fuck. It’s 5 AM” he says, eyes now glued to his phone, ruffling his white hair. “I’ll go-” “No, here, lets take a shower with each other, and then we sleep.” “Okay.” you responded, hoping to not make conversation, still believing that he was a celebrity. He handed you his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I get your number?” “...Why?” you questioned. “...To call you back again, duh.” he teases, rubbing your head. No way, he wanted you back at his house? You? Not wanting to fuck up your chances, you nod, something was growing inside of you, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you knew he made you feel special.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk headcanons #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dom gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou x you #fanfic #fic #anime fic #im learning how to write well ok

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captainsolare · 4 years ago

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can I have “when the day met the night” by panic! at the disco with Hawks (or any character you feel inspired to do I’m not fussy). Thanks!

A/N: I made this one its own separate post because the inspiration fairy really took over and made this so very long. I hope you enjoy Cindy!!

Tags: There's some angst in here but it gets better I promise!! I'm sorry Hawks fans feel free to scream in my inbox or the replies, this is kind of a slow burn I guess? I desperately needed to give context to shape the story

Word Count: 4,394 (I"M SO SORRY)

“When the Day Met the Night” by Panic! at the Disco + Hawks

The summer wind whipped Hawks’ hair as he flew over the city, he was grateful the day had been mostly quiet, but he was getting weary from a long day of getting cats out of trees and the like. Maybe I should land somewhere, take a break. He mused, spotting a rooftop garden on an apartment building.

He landed and there was a small gasp, his keen eyes looked for the source of the noise and landed on you, in a lawn chair covered in the iced tea you had spilled on yourself from the shock of his sudden appearance.

“H-hawks?” You asked, face a sheet of surprise.

He smiled, “In the flesh!”

The golden rays of the sunset lit your face and he took notice of how beautiful you looked for the first time.

Once the initial shock of your favorite hero landing in front of you faded, you became acutely aware of the ice in your lap. Grimacing uncomfortably, you stood, wiping the ice and tea off your legs as best you could.

“Sorry about the tea.” Hawks said, wings hunching closer to his body.

You smiled, a chuckle rumbling in your chest. “It’s no biggie, my apartment is just downstairs so I can go change in a bit.”

“Oh okay.”

An awkward silence hovered between you, Hawks’ feathers twitched uncomfortably and you were frozen in place, save for you rocking on your heels. It was clear that Hawks hadn’t landed here for any hero business, perhaps he just needed a break? Either way, you definitely didn’t want to miss this chance; how often did someone’s favorite hero land on their roof?

“Say,” You said after a while, “Would you want some tea? I can run and change then come back up with some.”

Hawks swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. “That would be great actually.”

You smiled, “Great, be back in a flash!”

As soon as you made it to your apartment, panic set in, what should you wear? You simultaneously felt like screaming and jumping up and down, but you knew you were wasting precious time.

Hawks was tempted to leave, he hadn’t exactly planned on resting here for long, and now a civilian was bringing him iced tea? Was getting a drink from a civilian the best idea? It could be poison after all, but he was very thirsty, and you didn’t seem the type to go around assassinating heroes.

His first impression of you was basic, you were beautiful and kind, that was for certain, but it seemed you were just an awestruck fan.

The door opened and you bounded back out onto the roof, fresh clothes and two glasses of iced tea in your hand.

He took the glass from your outstretched hand gratefully and sat in the chair opposite the one you had been in when he had first arrived.

“So,” You asked, after a sip of tea, “What brings you here?”

He decided to take a sip, it was just tea, he couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Normal tea made by a normal person.

“Just a slow day, tired of flying around.”

You seemed to find his comment amusing, the corners of your mouth upturned as you took another sip from your glass. “Do heroes ever have a slow day?”

He chuckled, “You’d be surprised. I don’t mind it though, gives me time to do as I please.”

The more you talked with Hawks, the more you realized how normal he was. Aside from the giant wings, and his top five hero status, he seemed to be a normal guy. It was intriguing, to say the least, you hadn’t known what you were expecting if you were to ever have a conversation with him, but it certainly wasn’t over a glass of iced tea.

The sun sank lower over the horizon and Hawks stood, wings billowing out around him.

“Thanks for the tea, it was delicious.”

“Of course, feel free to stop by anytime and I can make you more.”

Hawks smiled at you, but you noticed it was tinged with sadness. Actually, the whole time you had been talking, it seemed as if there was something there, haunting him just below the surface.

As he took off into the dying light from the sun, his heart twinged; for some reason, it hurt to leave.

He faded into a speck into the sky and you picked up his glass with your own, heading back to your apartment.

“Would it be gross if I didn’t wash this ever again?” You asked no one in particular.

Yes, yes it definitely would be. You laughed to yourself, setting the glasses in the sink.

Days passed and still no Hawks, of course, you hadn’t been expecting him to show up again, but there was still a pang in your heart as the sun set day after day.

You sat cross-legged in the lawn chair, notepad on your lap and pen in hand, tapping your knee thoughtfully as you tried to think of where you were going to take the current story you were working on.

A gust of wind hit and you scrambled to keep hold of your notepad.

“Whatcha working on?”

It was like electricity, you looked up when the familiarity of the voice set in and saw Hawks standing there. Breathing hard and setting your notepad on the table beside you, you sighed.

“Hawks! You’ve gotta stop--”

“Dropping in like this? Yeah, I’ve been told it freaks people out. Can’t help it though, I get a kick out of people’s reactions.” He chuckled, and you melted into a smile.

Your heart was strangely warmed by the fact he finished your sentence.

“Want some tea?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

As soon as he was left alone, Hawks was extremely tempted to read what you’d been writing on your notepad. In your previous conversation, you’d mentioned you were a freelance writer, but you’d never told him what exactly it was you worked on, and despite appearances, he was an extremely nosey person.

“Want to read it?”

It was his turn to nearly jump out of his skin as you returned, carrying a tray with two glasses and a pitcher.

You set the tray down between you and handed him the notepad. “There you go, can’t promise you’ll enjoy it though.”

You poured his tea and set it near him. It sat untouched as he read, but you didn’t mind, it was more entertaining to watch his face as he read your most recent manuscript.

The story started out simple enough, it was in second person, and the reader was getting ready to go to an exclusive party, primarily attended by heroes. Hawks’ eyes widened almost comically as he reached the part in the story where Edgeshot made a particularly salacious comment towards the reader and you couldn’t contain your laughter.

Hawks set the manuscript back on the table once he was finished. His face was a mixture of amusement and confusion as he turned to you for the first time since he picked it up.

“What exactly did I just read?” He asked slowly, blinking several times in confusion.

Laughing, you took the manuscript from the table and set it under your chair. “It’s a point of view story. Basically, the reader is inserted into the world of heroes, and this one involves Edgeshot.”

“I see. And people pay you for this?”

“You’d be surprised, it’s actually quite a lucrative business.”

Hawks’ wings puffed slightly, “How lucrative?”

You shrugged, “It pays the bills, plus a little more.”

Hawks took a sip of his tea as he pondered more questions to ask. Suddenly he sat up straighter, leaning towards you, elbows on his knees.

It seemed there was a burning question on his mind, so you gestured for him to speak.

He bit his lip, unsure of how to ask his question without seeming self-centered.

“Have you ever… written a story about me?”

You laughed and his cheeks flamed red, wings puffing out behind him in embarrassment.

“Yes, yes I have, several in fact,” you paused to chuckle some more. Taking a deep breath you continued, “You can’t read them though! They’re far too embarrassing now that I’ve actually met you.”

To your surprise, Hawks deflated into a pout, even his wings shrunk, you almost wanted to laugh, in that moment he looked like a puppy with giant wings.

“Don’t worry, maybe I’ll let you take a peek someday.”

In that instant he reinflated, wings puffing back up to a happy medium and his smile returning.

You talked until the stars began to shine in the sky.

He hesitated before he left, “Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?”

“I’d like that Hawks.”

“Keigo, call me Keigo.”

You inhaled, this was quite a show of respect from the hero, “Okay, goodnight Keigo.”

He came back the next day, and the next day, and the day after that. And on the days he was unable to tear himself away from his hero work for long enough to visit you, his sidekicks noticed he was visibly bothered by something.

“What’s up with Hawks today?” “I don’t know, he’s been like this a lot recently.” “Maybe he’s in love?” “Who knows?”

On the seventh day in a row of not being able to see you, Hawks had had enough. “I’m taking the day off!” He exclaimed, hands slamming on his desk, “Don’t you dare follow me.”

His sidekicks were visibly confused but decided it would be best to not push the issue. “Okay, see you later Hawks.”

Keigo showed up on your rooftop once more, and you greeted him with a smile.

“Hello Keigo, how have you been?”

“Good, well sort of, I’ve missed you this past week.”

You chuckled, you found yourself doing that a lot in the man’s presence. “I missed you too.”

His wings puffed, “Well I should hope so, I would have been wounded if you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and went to go get the tea. “I’ll be back.”

Keigo was restless in his seat until you returned, if there was anything he had realized in the week away from you, it was that he couldn’t stand to be away from you for another second. He sucked in a breath at the realization, was he? Was the playboy heartthrob Keigo Takami really in love with someone?

He chuckled to himself, though he had gained the reputation of a playboy, he’d never gone on a date with anyone. He’d never let himself be vulnerable like that before, could he… could he maybe be that vulnerable with you? It was true that he had missed you, but did that mean he was in love? Or was it more like the way you miss a friend you haven’t seen in a while?

The area was foggy to him, he hadn’t had many friends or any lovers, so he didn’t have much to compare it to.

You returned to find Keigo staring into the distance with a smile on his face.

“Did something good happen?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, I think so.”

The time passed as it usually did, you chatted and drank your iced tea together, scooting closer together until your knees were touching. As the stars began to appear, you braced yourself for him leaving but instead, he was giving you that familiar look, the look he gave when he had a burning question but he was unsure of how to ask it.

“What’s up? You can tell me what’s on your mind you know.”

Keigo swallowed, “Do you trust me?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, “With my life.”

“Would you like to go on a flight with me?”

His wings were puffed slightly behind him, you could tell he was nervous about asking you this. He had never taken anyone flying outside the context of saving them or out of convenience, so this was a big step in terms of his vulnerability.

To his delight, your eyes shone, “Really?! You’d take me?”

He smiled, “Yes.”

It was beautiful, the way excitement lit up your face, you resembled the sun in that moment.

“Alright, stand in front of me, back to me.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands were becoming sweaty, would that be a problem? Would he be able to feel the way your heart was pounding? There was no time to think too hard about it because his arms were wrapping around you.

“Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

He took off and you shut your eyes tight, too scared to open them at first.

“You can open your eyes, you know.”

Slowly you opened them and gasped, it was beautiful up here; you were further above the city lights than you usually were up on your roof.

The wind felt nice in your hair as you raced along, Keigo could probably feel your heartbeat, but you were too elated to care. The sky was freeing, it was an amazing feeling, and somehow you knew you’d miss a part of your soul when your feet touched the ground again.

“Is this how you get to feel all the time?”

Keigo laughed, you could feel it rumbling through your back.

“Pretty great isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

You wished you could stay forever like that, floating in the sky, wind in your face, warm arms around you, holding you close.

Oh. Oh was that what this was? Were you in love? Or did you just want to spend more time with a pro hero, your favorite pro hero?

Either way, once he left for the night you’d have much to think about.

You landed lightly back on your roof, and Keigo caught you when your legs began to wobble.

“The first time back on the ground is always a little rough, sorry.”

You smiled, “No worries. I’m glad you’re here to show me the ropes.”

Keigo was glad you couldn’t see the massive blush on his face.

You turned to face him once you felt stable enough to stand and you both swallowed uncomfortably as you looked into each other’s eyes.

A stray piece of hair had fallen into Keigo’s face and you gently reached up to tuck it behind his ear.

You both pulled away quickly, looking at anywhere but each other.

“Goodnight Y/N.” “Goodnight Keigo.”

There was the rustling of feathers as he took off, and you gathered up the glasses and pitcher from earlier in the evening.

The ceiling was infinitely more interesting that night than sleeping as your mind raced with thoughts. How would you know you were in love? How would you know if he loved you back? You didn’t want to believe all the rumors that he was a playboy, but what if they were true? If so, was your time together just a fling? You desperately hoped not, you’d grown quite fond of Keigo as of late, and missed him when he was gone. What were all these nights awake missing him, if not love?

Enji Todoroki awoke to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. Bleary-eyed he opened the door to find Hawks standing there. He grew instantly more awake, “Hawks? Is there an emergency?”

“Not really, but seeing you in your pajamas is quite amusing.”

The door was almost slid shut in his face but Hawks caught it with a hand. “Wait! There is something actually, not an emergency per se but I do have a question I’d like to ask.”

The door started sliding with more force.

“Please! You’re the only one I can turn to about this.”

The door stopped, then slid open fully.

“Fine, come inside.”

Enji put on more comfortable clothes and joined Keigo in the living room.

“So what is this about?”

Keigo explained the situation, and Enji’s expression grew more and more annoyed the more he spoke.

“So you want to know if you’re in love? I’m not exactly the best person to ask about this.”

Keigo sighed, “I know, but you’re the only one I felt I could ask.”

“Well, how do you feel when you’re with this person?”

Keigo’s wings puffed out excitedly, “I feel great! I really like talking with Y/N and they seem interested in me as a person rather than just a hero.”

“And how do you feel when you’re away from Y/N?”

Keigo’s wings visibly deflated and the corners of Enji’s mouth twitched up slightly.

“That’s all the answer I need. I’d say you’re in love.”

Enji stood and started escorting Hawks to the door.

“Bring them flowers or something next time you see them.”

Hawks turned to him with a beaming smile, “Thank you so much!”

“Yes yes. Now get out of my house, and if you ever come back here at this hour without an actual emergency, I’ll roast you alive.”

The door shut with a slam but Keigo was too elated to care. He had got the confirmation he needed, he was in love. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

The next day Hawks labored over what he could give you; did you like jewelry? Would flowers be too cheesy? He wasn’t the best at baking cookies but maybe he should try? He wandered the jewelry store forever, wings cumbersome in the small space.

Finally, he settled on a necklace with a simple sun pendant and tucked it into a box in his pocket.

When he landed on your rooftop he seemed more nervous than usual.

“Is something wrong Keigo?”

“No not at all, in fact, something good happened.”

“Oh?” You were curious now, what could have happened to make him so happy?

He gave you that signature wink and cheesy smile, “I get to spend the evening with you after all.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, Keigo was certainly a flirt when he wanted to be.

The evening passed much like the others, but Keigo’s demeanor was different than usual.

“Hey,” he said, as the stars began to appear in the sky, “I kind of… got you something.”

You blinked, “You did?”

He nodded with a bashful look you hadn’t seen on him before.

“Could you turn around and close your eyes?”

You turned, wondering what you could possibly be receiving from the winged hero.

You felt a pair of arms circle around you and something was laid around your neck, a necklace you realized. Keigo’s gloved hands fumbled with the clasp and he cursed.

“Hold on, sorry could you hold this?”

You held the necklace in place as he took his gloves off and clasped it around your neck.

You took the sign to open your eyes and looked down at the charm around your neck, it was a beautiful sun pendant, simple yet so elegant, and definitely something you could see Keigo picking out.

“Oh my, it’s beautiful but what is it for?”

Keigo drew in a long breath as if he was gearing up for something.

“I was going to ask if I could be your boyfriend?”

You choked in surprise, “Boyfriend? What brought this on?”

Keigo’s brows furrowed, the look on his face a mixture of hurt and surprise.

“What do you mean what brought this on? I-- I thought…” He trailed off, he hadn’t expected this outcome at all.

“I thought this was a fling, us hanging out! I didn’t know--” The word just had been omitted from your statement, but it still hung in the air between you.

He cut you off, his wings puffing out behind him, “A fling? Is that all you thought this was?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered and he chuckled darkly,

“Don’t be, at least now I get to see who you really are.”

The words stung almost as much as him flying away, leaving you on the roof, fingers clutching the necklace that hung around your neck.

Keigo didn’t show up for days after that, and you regretted every second of it. How could you have been so stupid? Of course, this was more than just a fling, you were quite literally flying head over heels for him.

Hawks’ sidekicks could tell something was bothering him. His wings seemed less perky than they had been, and he hadn’t left early or taken any work off at all, and it was obvious he had been crying. He rested his elbows on his desk, tissues scattered across the floor. His last interaction with you played over and over in his head, he was hurt that you appeared to believe the rumors about him, that he was just a playboy incapable of commitment. And maybe that was true, the commitment part at least; but that was only because he had never been vulnerable and not been hurt because of it.

The outcome had not been what he was expecting at all, but the more he thought about it, the more he wished he had waited to spring such a thing on you. Maybe he had rushed into this, he hadn’t really stopped to consider your feelings about the situation, he’d just assumed. The last comment he made echoed in his mind and made him cringe, could he really face you after saying such a thing? He wanted to, to tell you how sorry he was, to tell you that if you couldn’t love him now, the way he was, he would wait for you. He’d wait because you were worth waiting for, and he couldn’t see himself loving anyone else after he had fallen for you.

Taking a deep breath you walked out into the rooftop garden and taped the note you’d written onto the table where you always sat with Keigo. You wouldn’t stay to see if he read it, or if he even showed up, instead, you’d go back to your apartment, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch crappy romance movies for the rest of the night.

Keigo landed on the roof, flowers in hand, heart sinking when you were nowhere to be found. A piece of paper blowing in the wind caught his eye and his heart leapt when he saw it was a note from you to him. He’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Dear Keigo,

If I’m even still allowed to call you that. I wanted to apologize for the other night. You caught me off guard. Can we talk? I’d like that a lot. Feel free to knock on my door, I’ll be waiting.”

The note made him smile as he realized you never told him your apartment number. “Silly Y/N.”

He flew down to the bottom floor tucking the note into his pocket. He awkwardly made his way into the building and over to the reception desk.

The receptionist looked at him with a mixture of shock and awe as he stood in front of him. “Uh, hi. Could you tell me which apartment is Y/N L/N’s?”

The receptionist scrambled to flip through the address book. “Are you the boyfriend?” Keigo smiled, a sad pang going through his chest “Just a friend. At least I think so. Anyway, not important. Thank you.”

Once he knew which apartment was yours, he rode the elevator up to the 25th floor. He stopped outside apartment B, unsure of whether he should do this. He knocked one time and there was the sound of running footsteps toward the door. You flung it open, revealing a surprised Keigo standing there.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You said sheepishly, inviting him inside.

Keigo smiled softly, “Well, it took me a bit. You didn’t write down which apartment was yours.”

Recognition dawned on your face and you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Oops.”

Keigo held out the flowers and you took them gently, setting them on the kitchen counter. The awkward silence set in almost immediately.

“Can we talk?” You said at the same time.

“You go ahead.” “No, you.”

“Let’s take turns.” “Okay.”

Keigo cleared his throat, “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

You shifted awkwardly in place, “I do too.”

“I’m sorry for springing the boyfriend question on you so soon. I should have asked your opinion or waited longer.”

“I’m sorry for what I said, it was a knee-jerk reaction from my surprise. I guess I never thought that you’d be interested in me that way.”

Keigo swallowed thickly, the words he wanted to say sticking in his throat. You smiled, he often got that look on his face when he wanted to say something.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know. I just want to make sure what I want to say comes out right.”

Keigo paused, taking a deep breath, “I want to tell you that it’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t love me back. I know I’m not perfect, and I suck at commitment, but not for the reasons you think. And I want you to know that I’ll wait for you.” Tears began to well in both of your eyes as he spoke, “I’ll wait for you, even if the day you love me back never comes because you’re worth waiting for. I would sooner die than fall in love with anyone else.”

He reached up with a gloved hand to wipe his eyes and was shocked to feel you grab his hand.

“Ask me again.”

He blinked, fixing you with a watery gaze. “What?” His voice sounded croaky through his tears.

“I said ask me again, to be my boyfriend.”

He blinked again slower this time, “Okay, Y/N, will you take me, Keigo, to be your boyfriend?”

You smiled through your own tears and squeezed his hand. “Yes, yes the answer will always be yes.” You laughed as he pulled you into a soft hug.

“Did you really have to word it like a marriage proposal though?”

Keigo chuckled, you could feel it in your chest as you pressed against him. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

You laughed and wiped each other’s tears away.

You pulled away after a long moment, hands still intertwined.

“Would you like some iced tea?”

“I would like some very much.”

This evening was spent much like all the others, except this time you showed him how to make the tea, and you sat on your couch instead of rooftop lawn chairs.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #hawks fluff #hawks angst #aurora borealis #dwarf planet #dwarf planet music

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sincerelyella · 3 years ago

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RAMifications Chapter 8 - Butterflies Pt 2.

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Butterflies Pt 2. by Queen Naija

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

A/N: The entire idea for this came from @burnsoslow and her unBEARable series. RAMifications is the story of how Ella met the love of her life Prince (and then King) Liam of Cordonia.

Catch up here

Warnings: Adult language

Words: 1498

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

“Hello, I’m Ella, and you are?”

“Je m'appelle Kiara,” the dark haired woman spoke in French. “C'est Olivia,” Kiara gestured to the red headed woman.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Ella said calmly, even though inside her stomach was in knots.

“Oui, it’s nice to … finally see you in person,” Kiara arched her brow and Ella could tell she was studying her.

“Cut the shit, Kiara!” Olivia snarled. “I wouldn’t say it’s a pleasure! How dare you come in the middle of the social season! Where’s the other American?”

“Lady Ella! We’re ready for you.” Bertrand called inside the ballroom.

“Excuse me, ladies,” Ella quickly turned from and hurried to take her place across from Ana. Bertrand went to close the ballroom doors since he could see the women peering inside out of curiosity.

“Alright, Lady Ella,” Ana began. “I have a video camera set up to film us. I also have a photographer here who will take photos of the interview as well as afterwards. I won’t be releasing anything without House Beaumont’s approval,” she looked up at Bertrand who just nodded. “Are you ready?”

Ella sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Ana looked to her cameraman and nodded.

“In 3, 2 … “ he pointed to Ana to indicate they were recording.

“Alright, Lady Ella of House Beaumont, thank you for this opportunity. The people of Cordonia are eager to hear more about you.”

“I’m happy to be here, Ana.”

“So firstly, tell us a little bit about you, where are you from in the States? What brought you here?”

“Well, I’m from Los Angeles, California. I originally came here for a nursing internship at the children’s hospital.”

“You actually worked at the hospital?”

Ella laughed. “Yes, I was in the emergency room, as an intern. We did not get paid for that. The program was for six weeks and I had already fallen in love with Cordonia and its people. After my internship I decided to stay permanently.”

Ana had a small smile on her face as she scribbled in her notes. “Wow. Okay, so you decided to stay, what happened after that?”

“Well, I found a job so that I could stay as a resident; I delivered flowers.”

“Ah, yes, I know the one. It’s the flower truck in the capital, right?”

Ella nodded. “Yes, that’s the one. They were extremely sweet and were lenient with my schedule since I was in school as well.”

“Oh! You’re still in school then?”

“I had to actually push back school until January after the social season, but yes I attend Cordonia University.”

“I see.” Ana scribbled some more words on her notepad and looked up smiling. “So, how did you end up meeting the prince?”

“Well, I was delivering flowers here at the palace and we ran into each other - literally.” Ella laughed at the memory.

“That’s like a real meet cute!” Ana exclaimed, her and Maxwell laughed. Bertrand arched his brow at Max and Ella and they both abruptly stopped laughing.

“He’s been extremely supportive throughout all of this, just like House Beaumont.” Ella gestured to Max and Bertrand next to her.

Ana nodded and wrote more in her notebook. “What is something you love about our charming Prince Liam? He is the people’s favorite royal.”

“I am not surprised at all by that, Ana,” Ella smiled. “He is ... the kindest person I have ever met. He would take the shirt off of his back to give to anyone if they needed it. His people are important to him as is his country and he wants to do right by them.”

“Well said, Lady Ella. I just have one last question, a question that all of Cordonia has been wanting to know.” She gave Ella a small smile. “The social season is, essentially, for Prince Liam to find a queen.” Ella nodded. “Why do you think you’ll be an appropriate choice? What makes you different from the other suitors that will make him choose you?”

Ella sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. She told King Constantine the exact reason why she was an appropriate choice. She just needed to say the same to Ana, just not as … angry. “I believe Prince Liam needs someone to rule by his side that understands the people. I am clearly not from Cordonia, or have any kind of noble blood in me, however, I have lived among the people. I’ve worked hard to put a roof over my head; I’ve had to manage finances and handle a budget. I know it’s not a secret here in Cordonia that the royal family must marry for a political alliance of some sort with other countries, but …” Ella hesitated for a moment to think about whether she should say what she truly thought. “I … truly care for the prince and I believe he deserves to have a queen as well as a wife. One that supports him as a man and a king.”

Bertrand beamed at Ella’s response; Maxwell grinned like a fool while he bounced in his seat. Ana had a wide smile on her face and nodded, impressed. She leaned back and gestured for her cameraman to stop recording. Ella, Maxwell and Bertrand posed for a few more photos until Ana signaled for the photographer to wrap it up.

“Well said, Lady Ella. It was an honor to meet you, thank you so much for your time.” Ana leaned forward to shake Ella’s hand.

“That was amazing, Ellaaaaa!” Maxwell lept from his chair and pulled Ella from her seat as she laughed loudly. He threw his arms around her and she almost fell backwards from the force.

“Thanks for being here with me, Max.” Ella murmured in his ear. They parted and smiled down at her.

“Lady Ella, that was a great! I’ll get everything written out and contact Duke Ramsford to approve it.”

Ella looked at Bertrand who cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you, Ana, that would be wonderful.”

Ana had the crew pack up and Bertrand showed them out. Max and Ella decided to change and get ready for dinner. As soon as they exited the ballroom, they saw Liam and Constantine walking down the stairs. He caught her eye and quickly winked, flashing a small smile in her direction. Ella blushed and smiled back as she headed to her room.

After deciding to have a movie night instead of dinner in the stuffy dining room, Maxwell and Ella raided the kitchen and snuck back to her room with their spoils.

“I got the Doritos!” Max shoved a whole chip in his mouth enthusiastically.

“You and those chips,” Ella laughed. “What movie do you wanna watch?” She tossed some kettle corn into her mouth and washed it down with some Cordonian apple juice.

“You pick! Here.” He handed her the remote and Ella clicked through the selection on the smart tv and found one of her favorites.

“Ooh! A rom-com! How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days!”

Maxwell scrunched his nose up. “I haven’t seen that one. Why is she purposely trying to lose him? What kind of rom-com is that?”

Ella let out a loud laugh. “Just watch. You’ll love it.”

True to her word, he did love it. He loved it so much he now had a mini crush on Kate Hudson and vowed that they would watch every movie she starred in. Just as the night was winding down, Ella got an alert on her phone. Seeing who it was, she grinned.

Liam: Hey gorgeous.

Ella: Hey you! Thought you’d be busy tonight.

Liam: Just finished up some meetings with my father. Can I see you? I just wanted to come say goodnight.

Ella: If you have a moment. I’ll be in my room.

Liam: On my way

“What? Why are you so happy?”

“Liam is going to stop by.” She felt her neck start to get warm and her cheeks flush.

“Aww sookie sookie now!” Maxwell waggled his eyebrows and laughed. “Well, I think I’ll take all of my junk food and meander over to my room.” He stood to gather the chips, chocolate, juice and popcorn.

“Max! You don’t have to leave. He just wants to say goodnight.” She snatched the bag of kettle corn from him and started pour some in her mouth.

Maxwell snickered. “You and I both know … that’s not what’s gonna go down tonight.” He gave her the side eye and smirked at her facial expression.

She choked on some popcorn. “I don’t … what do you mean?” Ella stuttered.

Before Max could retort, there was a soft knock on the door.

“I wonder who that could be?” He gave her a knowing look as Ella just rolled her eyes. Maxwell flew over to open the door and there stood Liam with a smile on his face.

“Hello - oh! Hi Max.” Liam rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turned a slight pink as he sheepishly smiled at him.

“Liam! What. A. Surprise.” Maxwell tried to plaster on a shocked look on his face but instead, he gave his longtime friend a big grin. “I was just leaving. Byeeee Ellaaaaa!” He called over his shoulder as he bounced out of the room with all the snacks and pushed Liam inside.

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no-gorms · 4 years ago

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Hi Annie, hope work is easing up. Would you ever consider writing a coda for HAHH? Or do you have any ideas left? That verse made me actually want to write a fanfic myself because of how good it was & how it stuck in my head for months after. Just love it. Know things are busy so please don't feel obliged, especially since I know you've answered several asks about this verse.

Hello! I wish work would ease up, too, really. 😒

About HAHH I really do feel like at this point I’ve answered as much about that ‘verse as I can (for now, anyway), plus I need to move on to my next Marvel Trumps Hate fic, but since you asked! And it’s absolutely delightful that that fic inspired you. 😘 So that got me thinking, and here’s a little thing:

Coda to Half Agony, Half Hope, Steve POV (also on ao3)

Sometimes Steve dreams that he came back to an Earth where Tony doesn’t exist.

Not that Tony died while Steve was away, but that he never existed at all. Years of Steve pretending that Tony doesn’t exist has, in dreams, manifested as a reality in and of itself – where in sleep Steve returns and finally opens the eye he’d kept shut for so long, only to find that there’s nothing to see. Tony… isn’t. No one knows him, there’s no evidence he ever was, and whenever Steve tries to describe Tony to someone, the words can’t come.

It’s a nightmare, of course. Steve had them sometimes while he was away, but they tended to be about close calls in battle; never about Tony. When he did dream of Tony, said dreams were pleasant, though the details of them hazy, and Steve normally woke up annoyed and aching for a missing limb.

So it’s funny, really, that Steve only started having nightmares about Tony after he came back to Earth and actually did see him again. In fact, that first nightmare hit the night after he read Tony’s redacted personnel file, with all its colorful details of Stane’s betrayal and the surgeries that saved Tony’s life. The details of that night’s dream are gone, but Steve remembers the feeling of helplessness, and of Tony turned nebulous and out of reach, like smoke between his fingers.

They’re together now, he and Tony.

Back together, though it’s not really a reprise of what they once had. They’re different people now, and though they have a better understanding of who the other person used to be, they now have the wonderful nitty gritty work ahead of them to learn who they are now, and what they can be in the future.

Steve is happy, and thankful beyond words for the second chance. Hence the strangeness of him having recurring dreams of Tony not existing. Once, twice, a third time—

The fourth, he snaps awake from it with a gasp. Tonight his throat feels thick, as though he’d been about to shout something. But whatever it was, it’s immediately forgotten, because Tony is right here with him. Tony, who is possibly most real person Steve will ever know, is halfway under the covers, and is speaking to him.

“Just a dream,” Tony’s saying quietly. One of his hands brushes Steve’s face, and Steve turns into the touch so eagerly that Tony immediately starts petting him. The slow strokes along Steve’s temple and hairline has Steve sighing, and the sound almost drowns out Tony’s murmurs of, “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

Steve is far from fully awake, so it takes him a moment to realize that Tony thinks he must’ve been dreaming of war and violence. He should correct him, but he’s too shaken, too tired, too relieved – so all he can do is cling onto Tony’s wrist in trying to reorient himself to the world where Tony is here, with him.

“There we go.” Tony pulls the covers up to Steve’s shoulders, which is a feat in itself considering that Steve’s clinging onto Tony’s hand. But Tony manages, and makes himself comfortable underneath said covers with Steve, tucking himself close enough that his feet tangle with Steve’s.

A kiss lands on Steve’s cheek, close to where Steve’s lips are still parted around steadying breaths. It feels wonderful at the first, but that’s followed by the sleep-disoriented thought that he shouldn’t be asking for comfort from Tony. It’s wrong, somehow, to demand such things from Tony when Steve’s been… something. He can’t grasp the fine logic of it, but a sense of unfairness – and of justice not yet served – permeates the whole thought.

Steve says none of this out loud, but distress must be visible on his face because Tony makes a sound that’s fond and soft, and amused, maybe? It’s not an unhappy sound, which is the main thing. Steve finds himself calming, and calms even more when Tony tucks his face by Steve’s chin. Tony’s fingers – the set that Steve isn’t clutching to his chest – rub soothing pressure at the back of Steve’s neck.

“Tony.” Steve’s tongue is sleep-thick. “Move in with me? Here?”

“I don’t always sleep late,” Tony replies.

“No, it’s.” Steve tries to open his eyes, but the effort to do so seems insurmountable. “Feels more like home when you’re here.”

In the pause that follows, dismay slowly seeps into Steve’s brain – a remnant of the nightmare, maybe. He’s rarely been able to do things by halves, and that includes bearing the sheer scope of emotion that Tony inspires in him. That’s not always a good thing – he’d asked Tony to marry him before either of them were ready, for example, and there’s a lesson in there that Steve’s still trying to learn. Sometimes courage is in not taking the daring wild leap out ahead, but bearing the smaller steps right in front of you.

But Tony says, “Okay. I’ll move in.” He has that voice, the pleased one he uses whenever he’s tricked something out of Steve. Not that there’s any trickery involved here tonight; just sleep-addled honesty. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Steve exhales, and his breath puffs against Tony’s hair, which tickles his chin. “I appreciate that you’re real.”

“Oh, okay,” Tony says with a laugh, “that is going to be some conversation tomorrow.”

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #scaramouche writes superhusbands fic #verse: half agony half hope

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starsfic · 4 years ago

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The Ghosts of Fiery Cloud Manor- Chapter 1: Escape

Summary: An incident with his birth family leads to Xiaotian cleaning an abandoned manor for his summer. (Or, things went down after Wukong defeated DBK.)

AO3

Notes: This was the fic idea I mentioned when I was doing that ‘Dad Pigsy inspired by the influx of dad done by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off and @its-kall-the-clown’ fic snippet.

-_-

Earlier this week, going out into the country to clean up an abandoned manor wasn’t in the plans for Xiaotian’s summer.

Mostly, his plans had consisted of avoiding his parents, hanging with Xiaojiao at the porty club and arcade, and working at Pigsy’s Noodles. But then the week had ended and he found himself on a bus, driving out to the mountains. He found himself questioning every choice on that drive. Why had he left the city again?

Oh, right.

His father, in a fit of rage, had attacked him.

Surrounded by the aftermath of all that, Pigsy had sat him down and explained that he was worried about him. He wasn’t going to fire him. “ But I do think you need to get out of the city until this all dies down,” Pigsy said the morning after he had beaten Xiaotian’s father off his delivery boy. He had explained that he had received a call from an ex-boyfriend of his named Tang. “His family owns a large manor out in the mountains. He’s decided that he’s going to clean it up over the summer and then decide what to do with it. He needs some help that he’s willing to pay…”

With that, Xiaotian had realized what his boss had been offering.

Escape. Far from the city. Possibly with no wifi. And work he could lose himself in and not think about his horrible parents. This place could’ve been in Serbia and it didn’t matter. His thrilled “Yes!” would’ve been the same.

At least his birth family gave him a scapegoat to blame every petty inconvenience on. The cold snap in summer that the village was experiencing. The flat tire that the bus had that delayed his trip by an hour. The bus jolt that had spilled his coffee over his shirt. All of that was their fault. “Sorry,” the innkeeper said. “No lift.”

Definitely their fault.

Xiaotian heaved his suitcase up the three flights of stairs, absently cursing his family in his mind. Finally, he came to his room, pulling out the old-fashioned key. At least that was cool. The door opened with a creak, allowing him to look around.

A slanted ceiling, a comfortable-looking single bed, and a little oak chest of drawers under the window were all that greeted him. At the moment, he decided to concentrate on the positives. He wouldn’t be able to hole himself up in this room without expiring from boredom. Xiaotian pushed his suitcase into the room and set it on his bed. A chirp came from the bed.

Well, that was weird.

He poked his head under the bed, coming face to face with a small white monkey. The monkey blinked at him. Then it yawned, showing some very sharp teeth. “Uh, hello.” he finally said. The monkey gave another chirp before hopping out. Xiaotian leaned back and watched as it wrapped its arms around his neck. “Uh...okay.” He carefully lifted up the monkey.

He left the room, shutting the door behind him, before heading back down the stairs. The innkeeper gave him a smile when he showed up at the front desk. “Nice to see you making friends,” he greeted him, waving at the monkey. “This little fellow likes to come from the temple and come visit.”

“The temple?”

The innkeeper nodded. “Yes, another one of the properties that the scholar here owns.”

“He’s the reason I’m here,” Xiaotian said, hoping to get some info about the manor. “He hired me to clean, uh…” He pulled his phone out of the monkey’s paw, setting it on the counter, and pulled up the info. “Fiery Cloud Manor?”

“Oh.” The innkeeper looked upset before pulling out a paper. “Here, in case you want to look.” He pointed to a section. “This is the hiking trail most people use to get up to that manor. It’s been abandoned for...a while, so I believe you’ll have a lot of work.”

“I see. Sorry.”

“Whatever for?” The innkeeper looked confused by the apology and he instantly felt ridiculous.

Xiaotian thanked him, waved bye to the monkey (and felt ridiculous as he did so), and rushed out. By the time he was at the trail, he was too far to go back to get the keys to the manor without looking a touch unhinged. Which he wasn’t. He hoped.

Stupid birth family.

As he walked, the view started to come to life around him. Evergreen trees were mixed with bamboo and lovely pink flowers bloomed around him. Xiaotian couldn’t help but stop every so often, taking in the scenery. Walking along in a beautiful mist-filled forest to an ancient manor felt like something out of a fairytale.

His reality faded when the path stopped at a pair of gates.

The gate gleamed a gold color, a pattern of flames decorating the top. They were wet with condensation when Xiaotian leaned against them, getting his fill of the manor. It looked proud, a mixture of ancient Tang palaces and a classic English manor, a red roof gleaming among the mist. For a moment, he couldn’t help but stare.

It was beautiful.

For a moment, he wished he had been a little less freaked out at the inn. Then he could have the key and get into that place and- He leaned a little more against the gate. A creak was his only warning before the gate swung open.

Well, that wasn’t safe!

Who knew who had been around and found the gate unlocked?! Firing a quick text to Mr. Tang, Xiaotian shot through, thoughts of this beautiful house being ransacked filling him with fury. It grew worse when he reached the red doors with bull-patterned knockers and found them unlocked. How dare whoever did this?! The value in a place like this didn’t lay in money but in the fact that it was a snapshot of the past and the idea that it had been harmed through carelessness…

Light followed him through the open door into the entrance hall of Fiery Cloud Cavern. The windows were too clouded to allow any light that way. A grand staircase led up into a corridor, all smelling of dust and neglect. Xiaotian pulled out his phone and flicked on the flashlight. His anger dimmed when he saw that the dust on the stone floor appeared to have only been disturbed by him.

He moved deeper in, not quite satisfied yet. The must smell increased as he moved away from the door, but he was getting that creepy ‘being watched’ sensation. He looked up and yelped when he made eye contact with a portrait. “Oh, thank gods,” he breathed out, examining the dusty red-haired man. If there was still art on the walls, that probably meant everything was still intact, if he was willing to guess.

The next painting was of a grassy hill, a scraggly tree on top. Looking off into the distance, a woman sat under the tree. Before Xiaotian could study the next portrait, a cold wins blew. He glanced back, seeing the light starting to fade. He made a face at the thought of going back.

But Mr. Tang had been kind enough to rent a room in the inn for him. Plus, any bed in here was probably gross and bug-infested. So, he would go back down and get a good night's sleep. And then come for a full day of exploration.

The thought put a skip in his step and he chased that high out the door, firmly closing it behind him, and to the gate. There, he stopped. He couldn't just leave it open. Even with the lack of breaking-in evidence he saw, he wouldn't be able to sleep.

Xiaotian pulled off his headband and used it to tie a tight knot around the lock. It held firm when he gave the gate an experimental shake. Satisfied, he smiled.

"See you tomorrow."

He headed down the trail, happy at the adventure he had been presented with.

He was unaware of a figure appearing in smoke and flame when he was halfway down the mountain.

A claw reached out and tugged his headband off.

#my writing #au #Monkie Kid #Lego Monkie Kid #Qi Xiaotian #MK

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friendandphoe · 4 years ago

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okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little—

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."

#I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW DIFFERENT FIO/STL WOULD GO NOW SO IM REWRITING IT #i dont wanna spoil things bc i am in fact working on the next bits but here are some minor thoughts:#1: alexa starts out as an architecture major then switches schools to go into photography/filmmaking spring semester 2nd year #((not to toot my own horn but the way her major reflects her emotional arc is actually very clever of me if i do say so myself))#2: alexa and jaimey are half siblings through their dad and there will in fact be more Jaimey/Juno development than ive ever done before #((i have a lot of thoughts about their relationship and how it would grow and develop over time so. lowkey Jaimey redemption arc))#3: alexa obviously nails this interview and she hangs out on campus for a lil while afterwards to take pictures #((3.5: she does end up going into the coffee shop and there is in fact a Very Cute Barista and she gets Nervous))#4: the little interjections are things that have been said to Alexa somewhat recently but not all by the same person #thats about it i think anything else would be spoiler-y #n e way i cant wait to loredump all my new thoughts on yall im so sorry in advance for all the notifications you're about to get #im workin on some AU stuff too but lately ive been wanting to write about Normal Kids doing Normal Kid Things so here we are #i hope you enjoyed #movie house #alejandra ochoa #alexa darmond #my writing #shut up phoenix

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