#I SWEAR I know other locations than brick wall - trust me on this :')) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ninamitoo · 1 year ago

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VILLAIN WARRIOR

Chapter 3

BTS Jeon Jungkook x fem! reader

Hero Jungkook x Villain reader

Summary: all you want to know is why your parents were violently killed and why there was no proper investigation done. Odds are against you when a promising hero is willing to do everything in his power to put you behind bars.

W: 4077

Fic warnings: slow burn, depiction of violence, fighting and death, mention of power abuse, future smut, angs, emotional damage, commitment issues, trust issues, heavy themes and adult language, swearing, mention of masturbation, dark story?

Tell me if I forgot anything, I'll change the warnings in the course of this fic.

Raiting: 18+

My masterlist

VILLAIN WARRIOR masterlist

"Still nothing?" you whispered into the night breeze for the umpteenth time. Your companion, cloaked in a black hoodie, turned to you, and though you never saw his eyes, which were always hidden behind frosted glass, you could tell he was probably frowning at you at that moment. His patience with you was disappearing faster than steam over a pot.

"Just because you keep asking me the same questions doesn't mean you're going to speed up the process." He snapped at you, turning his gaze back to the glowing screen where he was currently trying to hack into the internal systems of the heroic organization where your new friend works.

You pouted your lips eagerly and let your body lie on the cool material beneath your back. The two of you were sitting - or rather, you were lying on your back - on the roof of an apartment building on the outskirts of the city. Whenever one of you needed help from the other you met in similar places. It was quiet and, above all, there were no witnesses.

On the dark side of an otherwise joy-ridden city, he was known as a top hacker. You assumed the man sitting less than a meter away from you, pounding away at the keyboard in front of him, was a few years older than you, but he couldn't have been more than thirty. Neither of you knew the other's identity, and both of you were so well-versed in your profession that you didn't even want to know your companion's name. His nickname, "404," was enough for you, and the knowledge that you would mysteriously appear wherever he needed was enough for him.

"If you don't want to keep in touch through electronic devices, we can keep in touch through my inner abbility." You suggested and he waited for a moment before deciding which answer to choose to your suggestion.

"How would that work?" He asked cautiously. He is wary of me, you thought, smiling to yourself. Good, he'll survive longer that way.

"Quite simply, really," you threw your hands casually in the air and leaned your back against a nearby brick wall. "I'll put some of my power into you. It won't affect you in any way, and it won't even serve as a GPS locator unless you want it to. If you ever need me, just think of my irresistible self, and I'll come running as soon as I can." You give him a sly wink and an air kiss for good measure.

"You can save your acts of service for someone else, they don't work on me." He replies, and you touch your chest where your heart beats in hurt: "So cruel. I like that."

"What is your ability?" He interrupts you. He watched as the smile remained on your face, but all the previous playfulness was gone. With darkened eyes, you stared up at the night sky above you. It was as if your mind had slipped to memories you didn't want to revisit, and he understood not to ask again.

"I prefer to keep this information to myself. But if you will give me your trust, I will give mine to you as well." You turned your gaze back to his, and this time they revealed something he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Are you willing to make a blood vow?" It slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. Why would he want to make a blood oath with you?

He was never the social type and never wanted to be. However, in his profession he found that it is always better to have people by your side whom you can trust implicitly. And you looked like you were not only willing to become that person, but more importantly, he had the impression that you were looking for someone like that in your life yourself.

"Yes," was your answer. You both entered into a great gambling game then, and it's working out for you so far.

Even today, like that night, you watched the darkened sky above you and regretted that you couldn(t see any stars because of the glow of the city. The last time you saw them was when you were a child, when both your parents were still alive.

"Fuck!" 404 hissed and slammed his hand hard on the ground until you heard a dull thud. It must have hurt.

You stood up and looked over his shoulder, "What happened?" In truth, you couldn't make out much from all the numbers and tabs that were open, but from his reaction you knew, what you were looking at didn't bode well. "Could't get in?"

"Of course I did, a long time ago. Their defense system is as strong as a toddler." He grunted and rubbed the side of his sore right hand. You frowned slightly and gently took his hand in yours. You pulled it to your lap and began to heal his bruise.

"Your parents' file is not in digital form. No police station or hero agency has it which is more than suspicious. I haven't found any trace of deletion, it's just like their case doesn't exist."

"To be honest, I kind of expected it when everyone sent me to hell and I still, to this day, didn't get an official report even though I'm their only family." You said in a calm tone and let go of his palm. Still, he didn't pull it back to his body, but instead repeated your previous action and pulled your hand to his. He gently stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Sorry anyway. What do we do now?" He whispered devastatedly. He raised his head to you in surprise when he heard your ringing laughter. You couldn't have known he was frowning at you in incomprehension, so he tossed your hand aside and asked what was so funny.

"Nothing, I'm just glad to have you in my life. It's nice to have someone who cares about you," you whispered, a trace of a gentle smile still lingering on your face. A smile that had long since become his comfort zone - which is something that terrified him.

At first, he thought you were just a stupid teenager out for revenge. A teenager who takes nothing seriously and everything is just a game to her. But over time, he realized it was just a mask you wore to protect yourself from society. From what? He wasn't sure. What he did know was that you were opening up to him more and more every day, and for that he was grateful.

"Who said I care about you?" He snorted and began hastily packing his things back up.

"Oh? Don't tell me I embarrassed you?" Yeaah… 404 takes back his previous thought. You're just a stupid girl who always wants to have fun. Now he knows that for sure.

"Are you blushing? What? You don't have to, not in front of me." You started poking him with your finger, hanging on his back in amusement. You were surprised at how weak his body seemed. Hasn't he been eating properly lately?

"Stop nagging and start thinking about what you're going to do next." He snorts and pushes you away from him. He was just winding up one of his cables when you pulled away from him and looked up at the sky again.

"I don't have to, I've already figured it out." You hummed a tune. Unprompted, you went on:" I'll try my new friend first. And if that doesn't work, I'll have to sneak into every organization and go through the paper trail myself."

"Pfft," was the initial reaction to your foolish vision. "While I still don't understand how your inner abbility works, I don't think it's going to be as simple as you assume." And he proceeded to list all the security forces, the security guards, and why each of your plans would fail.

You explained in detail to your companion how you planned to get in, and that he didn't need to worry about anything. After hearing your plan, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully until he nodded in agreement.

"That might work. But it's dangerous. I don't know how, but first try to get the stupid hero to do it for you. Offer him something in return that he won't be able to refuse." He snapped his satchel shut and zipped it up. He then got to his feet and looked at your still seated figure.

"For my services today I charge… The next round is on you. And I expect you to take me somewhere decent."

"Hah? You're getting more and more expensive," you grumble, but it could hardly be called a protest. Three drinks and he's drunk.

"Inflation, love, inflation." He says goodbye and unlocks his cell phone screen. The glow in the air around him made coordinates made up of code and in the blink of an eye he was gone.

You rested your palms on your knees and rose to your full height. Now it's time to put the next step of your plan into motion.

____

"A group of local criminals have teamed up with an underground mafia gang! We've got a ransom note - they've got eight hostages and they're demanding twenty million for each with a chance for an unguarded escape. All assault units are called into action!" The thunderous voice of the lightning hero shouted over the agency.

Jungkook, along with the rest of his unit, shouted a collective, "Yes, sir!" His brain switched into trained auto mode, ready to risk his life.

The unit Jungkook was assigned to included his senior colleague Yoongi, along with Hobi and two other young students. They had an internship there and Jungkook could see the fear in their eyes. He himself remembered the day he was first sent out on a real mission, not just street checks. That's when he met you and his world changed. Whether for better or worse, he still didn't know.

They got to the scene of the crime simply thanks to Su-hin, whose inner ability is teleportation. While the air troops served as observers, the ground troops quietly surrounded all possible exits of the bank.

It was long past closing time, so the only civilians in the building were the last of the employees who hadn't had time to go home yet.

"Why wasn't the bank raided on a weekday during business hours? They'd have more hostages." Intern Jack whispered. He crouched behind one of the many trash cans and peeked out to look at the back door of the bank now and then.

"It would mean more problems for them and more planning." Hobi replied, his piercing gaze fixed on the walls before him. With his ability, he could pinpoint exactly how many people were inside and where they were located. He was often sent on spy missions as a scout.

"Either they are not a large enough criminal group to afford such a large-scale operation, or they do not have the material means to do so." Yoongi joined in. He interrupted his explanation to reply to his commander that their team was in place, then looked into the dilated pupils of the two newcomers.

"This won't be like a school exercise, you can easily die here. You will follow us and obey our every order. They are armed, and we must expect them to use their weapons. Is that clear?"

The two boys looked at one another, giving each other courage. Their " Yes sir!" was clear and full of determination. Jungkook had to smile at that. One day they would make a valuable contribution to the team.

"Our priority is to get the civilians out alive. Once we've secured even one of them, you'll take them out and hand them over to the medical team. That will be the end of your work." Graphene sheets began to form around Yoongi's body, slowly building up a protective layer until it covered Yoongi's entire body. He looked like a heigh tech robot. " I'll go first, Hobi?"

"Two of them are standing at the main entrance, three around the hostages, and the other two at the back entrance. One is down in the underground vault with a civilian, and the other three are pacing back and forth in the middle of the bank." Hobi always stayed at a safe distance during such events. Although he was also trained for close quarters combat, his strength lay on a different domain.

"On my command, all units…" Namjoon's voice crackled in the headsets of all the heroes present, "Forward!"

Jungkook's legs raced forward as he strengthened his body with his ability. In front of him, Yoongi broke down the door. All the bullets aimed at his body bounced off without a single damage to his armor.

Yoongi lunged for the aimed machine gun with his left hand while using his right hook to punch the man in front of him in the nose. Before his crony could recover and attack Yoongi, Jungkook knocked him to the ground and sent him unconscious with one well-placed blow.

"Jack," he commanded to the boy behind him, who had only just come inside, and placed the criminal in handcuffs that prevented the use of his inner abilities. Su-hin did the same across from the opponent Yoongi had struck down and now continued forward.

There was a corridor in front of them, from which several different doors led on both sides with signs saying storage, cloakrooms, cleaning room… Hobi, however, was simply directing them exactly which way to go: "You'll run into another one around the corner, and he probably has some kind of ability."

They ran into him as soon as they opened the door in front of them. There stood a man wrapped in glowing lava, giggling madly. "You can't get past me!" He shouted, hurling a glowing orb at them. The spot where Yoongi had stood just a moment ago was now a gaping hole from which hot air radiated.

"Go, I'll take care of him," Yoongi said, and Jungkook didn't hesitate for a second. He ran towards the lava man, trusting his Hyung completely.

"If you think you can get past me that easily, you're wrong!" Yoongi's opponent shouted and began to create the same fireball again. Before he could reach out to throw, however, he was knocked down by a heavy, graphene net.

"You didn't think creating an armour around my body was the only thing I could do, right?" Yoongi laughed at him, but Jungkook didn't hear any further. For one, he was already too far away, and what was moe important, he needed to focus on his own task.

He was right in the middle of a scene of sheer madness.

"Get down on the floor, what don't you understand about that?"

"Please don't hurt me..."

"Hands up so I can see them!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

The three parties outshouted each other to the accompaniment of gun shots and a brawl of inner abilites. Jungkook didn't hesitate, heading for the huddle of terrified hostages crouched in front of one of the bulkheads, a machine gun aimed right at them.

Jungkook ran over there without much thought. He caught the attention of one of the employees, and at that moment he was sure his enemy, who was still shouting at the terrified civilians with a machine gun in his hand, would soon know about him.

The barrel of the machine gun swung in his direction, but Jungkook used his ability to increase his speed to triple the human's capability and crashed head-on into the villain in front of him. The sharp impact of a body running at car speed threw him back several meters and certainly knocked the wind out of him. Jungkook didn't know how long he would be out for, but he was ready to take advantage of the opening.

In an instant, he stepped in front of the shocked bank employees and began urging them to move. Behind his back, his colleagues had pacified the rest of the criminals and most of them were already in handcuffs.

Although adrenaline was flowing in the blood of everyone present, the shaky legs of the terrified refused to function normally. Jungkook tried to get all seven people as far away from the scene as possible in case there was still danger, but he couldn't manage to drag more than three people at a time all by himself.

At that moment, Jack ran up to him and began to direct the confused people out the back exit in a clear voice, where Yoongi stood, ready to provide immediate protection.

The three of them had already managed to get all seven of them at a brisk pace into the corridor, which they fought their way in less than a few minutes back. There was a confirmation over the earpiece that the man who had been down by the vaults had also been secured and transported to the med team.

Hobi was waiting for them at the exit. The whole procession was closed by Jungkook, together with Jack, who was now shouting triumphantly at the older heroes, "That went well! Did you see how Yoongi beat that guy in a second?"

Jungkook had to smile at his enthusiasm. He was glad that his first rescue mission had gone off without a hitch. Usually, thieves in particular resisted arrest and tried to escape justice at all costs. These ones were oddly easy to pin down, almost to the point of looking suspicious. Almost.

"Saw, cool right?" Jungkook fell into the younger boy's happy note. Jack bobbed his head in agreement, and with two hops in his step, he was in front of Jungkook. He backed up as he told him how their fight had played out and what Jungkook had missed out on.

"Really?" Jungkook replied at one of his observations as Jack's smile froze on his face. His eyes widened in horror.

Jungkook's reaction was too slow.

BANG!

A single shot was fired, triggering an avalanche of new panic.

Jungkook was dimly aware of the group of men and women before him scattering in all directions. He was vaguely aware of Jack's grip on his own neck. He was vaguely realizing that the man who had fired the shot was the same man he had sent into supposed unconsciousness a few minutes earlier.

But what he felt clearly was the anger that clouded his vision, the pain in his right hand that struck the broken nose of the man beneath him for the umpteenth time, and the tears burning in his eyes.

"Jungkook-" the person addressed did not respond to his name. Instead, he reached for another blow.

"Jungkook…" Smash, smash, smash. Crack. The sound of a broken bone. Whose it was, he didn't know nor did he care.

"Jungkook! He's dying!" Hobi's voice shouted at him. Only then did he pause over the bloodied face. The man beneath him was indistinguishable and his jaw and nose were probably broken. Blood gushed from his eyebrows, nose and mouth, and only now did Jungkook realize he was wailing for mercy.

"Yoongi carried him to Jimin, but it doesn't look good."

"..."

"Where is he?" Jungkook asked brokenly. Hobi nodded his head evasively behind his back. He saw what the boy's wound looked like. It was a clean shot through the neck. Jack was choking on his own blood, unable to breathe. The only thing Jimin could do for him now was to ease his passing.

Jungkook's ears rang faintly as he bent over the pale face of the barely fifteen-year-old boy who tried to say something, but all that came out were guttural sounds that tore at his heart.

"Sorry, I should have reacted faster. If I had taken him out from the start, you would have… Then you would have-" he chocked at his words. He felt a few salty drops run down his face.

It was his fault. He's senior in rank and should have protected him. If only he'd done his part!

"I can save him."

Jungkook turned his head sharply to the side where the voice belonging to the person he never thought he would see at this moment spoke.

"What do you want here?" Jungkook spat venomously at her, leaning protectively over the boy who had seconds to live.

You didn't react to his hostility and merely repeated your previous sentence.

"Hands up so I can see them!" Yoongi overcame his initial shock, but now he was pointing the weapon he created with his ability at her. Resignedly, you slowly raised your hands until they were clasped behind your head. Your piercing gaze never left Jungkook's eyes.

"I'm risking my own life among twenty heroes just to save a stranger's life. Either let me cure him now, or you can arrest me and watch the last drops of life drain from his face."

When Yoongi approached you together with Hobi from the other side, you let them touch you. You didn't even resist when they started putting the handcuffs on you.

Jungkook took a good look at you for the first time since you showed up in the back of the bank. You were wearing plain jeans, black sneakers and a sweatshirt that was definitely not your size. Your hair was flowing around your face, and this time it wasn't a garish color. You didn't even have any makeup on. You looked.... Like an ordinary young woman.

You looked more beautiful than ever before.

"Hyung. Let her try. She can't harm him more than he already is," Jungkook whispered. He knew that even if it was against the eldest better judgment, he wouldn't refuse his reguest.

"It's too late for that. He's dead," Jimin murmured behind his back. It's the end.

You knelt down next to Jungkook and placed your left palm on the boy's reddened neck while your right palm was over his heart. There was no warm glow at the point of contact as he often saw with healers. Instead, he watched as the color drained from your cheeks in seconds. You looked tired.

"I know who's to blame. Who orchestrated the robbery." You said into the sudden silence. Aside from Yoongi, who was still pointing his gun at you, the rest let their guard down.

"How would you know something like that?" Jimin asked, watching in incredulous amazement as the bullet wound healed, as the blood seemed to spontaneously return to his body, giving it its original pinkish tinge.

"Unfortunately, I know the boss of the gang. I can take you to him, but it'll be on my terms, and only two of you can go."

I'm gonna pretend I believe you for a second. Let's say we go along with your plan. I doubt we'll be able to tell our superiors about it, eh?" Yoongi grumbled. He didn't believe a single word that came out of the woman in front of him. He had seen for himself the effect her sentences could have on his younger colleague. He wasn't going to fall victim to her lies as well.

"Naturally." You replied involuntarily, standing back up to your full height with a deep sigh. Your hands were shaking slightly, but your gaze and stance were still as steady and determined as ever.

"It's up to you whether you believe me or not. But if you do, come to the corner of the Cord Bar down on South Street at eleven o'clock tomorrow night. No listening devices or prying eyes. And there can only be two of you. I don't care who." You explained quickly, knowing that now that your job was done no one had any reason not to pacify you. Or worse.

You took one last look in Jungkook's direction. You knew him as a confident, strong man. You thought he was brave when he was just an intern. Now there was a broken man in front of you with dried streams of tears on his cheeks.

"He'll live," you said your goodbye and disappeared into your own shadow.

Jungkook didn't even try to stop you, he was aware of how futile the effort would be. Instead he focused on Jack, who was breathing weakly again. Weakly, but still.

To be continued

#bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jjk #talbott #jjk x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader angst #jungkook #villain warrior

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neonacity · 3 years ago

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HYACINTHE | Chapter 1: Jaemin x Reader

Summary:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul's top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word.

So why, then, does he always find himself in the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

BLACK DAISIES MASTERLIST

___________________________________________________________

I've known him for almost a year and a half when it happened.

The small bell of the cafe's back door dinged so hard, I thought it would get ripped off from the wall. I looked up, eyes wide with panic and hands still wrapped around the cold corners of a metal tray when a head of jet black hair appeared on the entrance. It took me half a second to register what I was seeing before I found myself flying to his side in a heartbeat.

"Jaemin! Oh my god, what the hell is going on!"

My first thought was that he was injured. He was doubled over and I quickly hunched to his level so that I could peer at his face. He looked paler than usual, beads of sweat stuck on his forehead, eyes glazed with a slight look of panic as he tried to keep himself from falling over. I threw out my hands to hold him by the shoulders and that's when my gaze caught it; the small black package that he quickly tried to hide inside his bomber jacket before I could even fully see what it is. I didn't give it much attention back then—I was far too focused in trying to see if he was hurt anywhere to worry about anything else. When his gaze finally focused on me, I thought I saw guilt there.

"I need your help. Sorry, I don't know where else to go."

My brows furrowed together.

"What the hell is going on—"

He reached out for one of my hands helping him up and squeezed it tight.

"Please don't ask me questions. Just—can you trust me?"

"I don't understand—" my voice started to rise. Is he hurt? Bleeding? In pain?

"Please."

My lips parted then pursed again.

"Okay."

Jaemin tugged me closer to him and threw a panicked look outside. He then pulled me farther into the now closed cafe, back into the storage room, the location of which he shouldn't even know in the first place.

"Let me hide here for a bit. Just a bit."

That encounter was my second mistake since meeting Na Jaemin.

I should have asked questions.

Lots of them.

___________________________________________________________

The first mistake happened about a year and half ago.

"Welcome to Brick and Beans, what would you like to have today?"

I plastered on my practiced smile and looked at the stranger in front of me without actually looking at him. Working in the service industry sure does things to your head once you get used to it. Despite having to deal with people all the time, you also get to develop a kind of numbness and detachment to human interaction. A face just becomes a face, a customer simply becomes just another passing responsibility. I tried to blink a few times to make myself seem more interested on the boy standing in front of my counter, patiently waiting for him to give me his order so we can go ahead and get on with both our business.

"Uh… I'll have an iced americano. No water. Eight shots of espresso."

My lips parted and curled on the sides to give him my service smile. My hand automatically reached out for the plastic cups stacked on my side while my other whipped out the marker clipped on the pocket of my apron to scribble his order.

"That's one iced americano, no water, eight—"

I stopped and blinked once. Twice. My gaze shot up at the customer in front of me again and really looked at him for the first time.

"I'm sorry, that's eight shots of espresso?"

He nodded, seemingly unbothered by my question.

"No water?"

A slight shake of the head.

"...eight shots. Of espresso."

"Eight shots, yes."

For a moment we both just stared at each other. He was looking at me patiently, probably only slightly weirded out by my question while I gave him a look that's a mix of worry and disbelief. Working as a barista has exposed me to my own fair share of weird coffee requests, but this is by far the one that takes the cake.

I softly cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the words I was scribbling on the cup. As strange as it is, I really am not in the position to judge a customer.

"That'll be 4.50 dollars. Is that for here?"

"Make it to go."

"Got it. I'll get you your order soon…"

"Jaem."

I smiled and scribbled his name on the cup.

Foot traffic was pretty slow on the cafe so I was able to quickly finish the order on autopilot. As I worked on mixing, I found myself humming softly to myself, my tune shifting into short whistles every time I would dunk an espresso shot down into that cup. I didn't even realize that the customer didn't bother taking a seat on one of the empty tables, opting to lean on the wall by the side instead, hands shoved in the pockets of his jogs as his eyes followed me.

"One iced americano for Jaem," I called out and pushed the packed drink into his hand. He handed me his card and I quickly worked on swiping it.

"You sure like your coffee explosive, huh?" I shot him a question for the sake of making small talk as I punched some buttons on my terminal.

"It's the eight shots, isn't it?"

I answered by giving him a shrug and a smile.

"It's the first time I ever did one like it. I can only imagine how it tastes like."

His lips slightly quirked into a smile. A...really cute smile if I might add.

"Is there anything wrong?"

"It's really good."

"Sure, Jaem. I'm not here to judge," I gave him a wink before handing back his card and receipt. "Well, thank you for dropping by. We hope to see you here again." He took both wordlessly and slipped them on his wallet.

I was waiting for him to walk off with his drink with the practiced polite smile plastered on my face again. He turned, coffee in hand, took about five steps, before turning to me again. I blinked in mild confusion as he placed his cup back on my counter.

"Actually… I'll have it here."

___________________________________________________________

"I'm not going to try your death coffee, Jaemin."

I didn't look up from the page I was reading but I could feel it, that deadly pout and puppy eyes combo drilling onto the side of my head. I flipped a page of my textbook over and I heard a sigh come from the boy beside me.

"I bought it for you. You said you need to finish a paper tonight."

"I do. That doesn't require me to be awake for the next week and a half," I answered back with a quirk of my lips as I finally looked up to meet his gaze. We were seated at one of the far tables of the cafe for my 15 minute break, away from the handful of customers scattered on the smattering of tables and high chairs. This has become quite a routine already… but how it started, I can't really explain.

Ever since that first order, Jaemin had made it his routine to drop by almost regularly. At first the banter started similar to how a regular customer and his favorite barista would have, but since he would always come and visit during slow hours, we would always have more time for longer conversations. Casual talk turned into light-hearted jokes, and finally into a kind of banter that comes with familiarity with each other. Slowly, I came to know the complexities of Na Jaemin, and boy, is he an enigma and a paradox rolled in one.

You never really know what to expect with him. There are days when he would be a bursting ball of energy—most of the time when he would order his drink from hell—but there are also moments when he would be quiet and reserved. I found it odd at first, but slowly accepted it since it didn't really hurt me in the first place. In fact, if I am going to be completely honest, I find this kind of personality set working for me. Imagine gaining two friends, except they're only in one body.

But that's not the only odd thing in our dynamic, too. If someone would ask me now to describe the kind of friendship I have with him, I wouldn't really know how to explain it. We joke together, laugh together, sometimes even tease the crap out of each other like we've known each other for years. We work well together, but at the same time… I know almost next to nothing about him. I don't know his address, who his other friends are, if he's going to school or not… hell, I don't even know what his number is. Outside of this cafe and his regular visits, I don't have anything to prove that he actually exists. He didn't share, and I also didn't ask.

Until today.

"Fine. I'm just going to drink this then."

I gasped before shooting him a squinted glare.

"You are going to burn a hole in your stomach, I swear to god—"

He simply shrugged and made a huge show of sipping the previously untouched tears of Lucifer.

I reached out to tug at the hood of his jacket in an attempt to call him out when I noticed it. His hair was initially masking it at first but now I could see it in full view: a purple bruise just on the side of his eye, almost to his temple.

"Oh my god, Jaemin. What happened?" I asked in a hurry as I tried to take a closer look at it. His expression changed in a heartbeat as he realized what I saw and he quickly leaned back and pulled the hoodie again over his head.

"That's—it's nothing."

"It looks so bad. How did you get that?"

He didn't answer. His eyes avoided my own and his hand gripped the plastic cup between us a little bit tighter.

"Did you get into a fight?" I pushed, gently this time.

His gaze moved to meet mine again for a few seconds. It's obvious he was contemplating what and how to answer.

"Yeah… I got into a bit of a tumble with some friends."

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back on my seat. He threw me a look that silently asked what else I want from him.

"Look. You don't tell me shit but at least I know enough to be sure you are lying."

Jaemin looked away and started tapping his finger against the table.

"Why are you… why do you even want to know?"

I looked at him incredulously for a few seconds before leaning over.

"Because you're my friend and I want to make sure you are okay."

"I am okay."

"Your black eye says otherwise."

"Come on, don't push this. Can't we be friends without," he waved his hand between us. "This?"

"Jaemin, I don't even know who you are."

That made him stop. He stared at me for what felt like a full half minute and that's when I saw it for the first time. The dilemma in his eyes.

"It was because of work…"

The look of confusion I made must have been so intense that he quickly tried to jump over it.

"Work—why, what do you—"

"I'm sorry, but that's really all that I can tell you."

The sound of desperation in his tone wasn't lost on me. He looked so torn that I felt almost guilty for pressing.

"Fine… I won't ask again… As long as you are sure you're fine."

He peered at me once more as if assessing if he was finally off the hook.

"So...we're still friends?"

"Huh?"

"You and me… we're still friends?"

"Uh, yes…"

The look of relief on his face made me smile despite myself. He caught it and he made it a point to answer it with his best eye roll.

"Don't laugh at me. I don't know how to do friends."

"You're so cute~"

"Shut up."

And that was the exact day I decided—I'm never going to let Na Jaemin feel alone again.

Chapter 2

#na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct mafia #nct mafia au #mafia!jaemin #jaemin imagines #nct mafia fic

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specsforwoo · 3 years ago

Text

May the Best Win | Mafia!Huang Renjun

Okay, so, this is a collaboration between myself (@specsforwoo) and the author (@marshmellowmin) so please support us as we continue to release content related to the overall theme that you can find on my/their blog. Thank you!

Crackling came through the walkie-talkie resting on your hip, peering through a scope, the cacophonous noise messing with the rhythm of your breath. Ripping the device from its hostler you tried to remain calm as you conversed with watchman over the line.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, this hit is going to go south and you are going to pay me double for having to clean up the mess you caused.” The other line went dead and somehow the shrilling noise persisted.

Finally, the jarring, piercing whistle was slowly driving you insane to the point that you shut off the machine all together.

Taking a few seconds to regain your composure, you leaned back down over the edge of the building, peering into the crowd below. Running large sweeps across the courtyard, you caught sight of the man you were sent for.

Inhale.

“One.”

Exhale.

“Two.”

Inhale.

A jolt ran through your arm and up into your shoulder, the pain only bearing the familiar feeling of another notch on your post. Screams raced through the air into your muffled ears.

Mission Accomplished.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” You whipped your head around to locate the source of the cold voice. You found a boy, maybe a couple years younger than you, with dark hair and fair skin. He held a thin case-one similar to yours. A sniper case.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Now if you’ll be so kind as to get the fuck out of my way, I have places to be. Ta ta darling, nice meeting you,” You packed up your sniper and pushed the boy out of the way. Walking towards the elevator, the boy’s grating voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Next time, I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

You paused for a split second and chuckled lightly. This kid thought he could kill you-how hilarious. You continued down the stairs of the building and ran to the back alley you had entered from. Surely enough, your ride was still there, parked with the rear end facing the brick wall behind it. You loaded your equipment into the back and plopped yourself down in the front seat.

“Is it done?” Your driver, Joon, asked.

“Of course. I made an enemy this time though. I need some time off the field to avoid exposure,” You said, leaning your seat back and placing your feet on the dash of the car. Joon immediately swatted at your feet.

“Get your feet off my dash, nasty.” You chuckled and put your feet back on the floor. “So who’s this enemy?”

“To tell you the truth, Joon, I’m not sure. That’s why I need to stay out of the thick of things for a while. To lay low and find out just who this kid is. All I know is he’s a sniper too.” You sighed and leaned on the window. This kid really puzzled you. He looked much younger than you but spoke as if he was your equal. His Korean was good, but he still had a hint of an accent. But what accent? Who is this kid?

“Well Y/N, I don’t know what to tell ya. But Gong is definitely gonna want to hear about this,” Joon said, making you shiver. Gong was your supervisor, and he was extremely creepy. You were 90% sure he hid bodies of his childhood friends in his basement at one point. He is also a registered sex offender, so he can no longer do field work. You avoided him as much as you possibly could. But with information like this, you definitely had to tell him.

“Yeah I know. Do you think Hyeori will want to hear about this too?” Hyeori was your leader and she was ruthless. Even though she was ruthless, you trusted being alone with her more than being alone with Gong.

“About a possible new enemy? It’s worth hearing about,” Joon said, pulling into the garage. You sighed in relief.

“I’ll request a meeting then.” Since Hyeori was naturally very busy, you had to request her time to talk about things she deemed of importance. A new enemy would definitely cause trouble for the Mafia and give her more work, which made you hope she would take your request. Eventually, she did and you were in a meeting with her and Gong about the issue.

“So Y/N, tell me. How did this ‘new enemy’ come to be?” Hyeori asked, her regal voice ringing throughout the room.

“It was on my last job-the politician. Once I packed up this kid, who couldn’t be much older than 16, came up behind me with a sniper case in hand. We exchanged a few words and as I left, he threatened to kill me upon our next meeting,” You explained.

“What did the kid look like?” Gong asked, typing away on his computer.

“He had black hair with bages that fell just above his eyes, he wore a facemask and a black baseball cap along with a black outfit. He had fingerless gloves on-they were Harley Davidson motorcycle gloves. His voice had a hint of an accent, but I was not able to determine what kind.” As you described the boy, Gong took notes and Hyeori paid attention to every detail that came out of your mouth. You brought yourself back to that day on the rooftop-why was this kid even there?

“I believe I know who you’re talking about. His name is Huang Renjun. He’s S-NCT’s sniper. You are to avoid any hostility with him-I’m trying to reach an agreement with their leader Johnny. His power extends to China and he wants control of our Japanese ports. We are thinking of connecting a marriage between our mafias to allow us to work in China and his people to work in Japan. It’s a win win situation, Y/N. Do not screw it up,” Hyeori’s threat terrified you. The last person to ruin one of Hyeori’s plans is currently being manhunted.

“I understand, Hyeori. If I encounter him on another mission, what am I to to?” You asked. You needed a protocol to avoid ruining Hyeori’s plan by accident.

“Do not engage-let him have the job if you have not already completed it. If you have, simply leave the scene and let him fume about it. No need to fight. Understood?”

“Yes, Hyeori.”

“Alright. Meeting adjourned,” Hyeori got up from her seat, making you rise with her. You

let her and Gong exit before you, and you walked down to your room.

“Yo Y/N. How was the meeting?” Joon asked. He was laying on his bed tossing a tennis ball up and down. He looked like the epitome of laziness and boredom.

“It went fine. If I meet this kid again I am to not engage him and let him have the job. Hyeori’s orders,” You said, climbing up to your bunk. You grabbed your book from the shelf next to your bed and sat down facing the room with your back against the wall. You quite enjoyed reading-something that seemed to surprise everyone. You didn’t know why they were surprised-it’s not like killing people was the only aspect of your life. Jobs were usually few and far in between for you, so besides practicing your technique and accuracy, you had other hobbies as well. One of those hobbies was reading. You ended up reading so many books that you installed a shelf next to your bed so you could store them properly. You also enjoyed cooking-something that you shared with a few other members of your mafia. Your free time was often spent like this: practice from 8-11, make lunch from 11-12:30, read for an hour or so, practice from 2-4:30, make dinner 5-7, read from 7-9, repeat everything again the next day. It was routine, and you tried to stick with it as much as possible.

For the months after your initial encounter with Huang Renjun, you kept your routine. Practice, eat, read, practice, eat, read. Day in, day out. Until Hyeori called you down to her office-which was never good. If Hyeori decided she needed to see you, then there was something wrong. In all honesty, you were terrified of Hyeori. She was a powerhouse and in order to stay in her position, she’s had to prove multiple times that she’s not a soft little girl. That being said, many people have died by her hands and you did not want to become her next victim. Walking down the steps of the common room, you found yourself walking down the winding halls of K-251’s “corporate” offices. Eventually, you reached Hyeori’s office and knocked three times-as per her request. You heard a faint “Come in” from the otherside of the door and walked in. Once you walked in you were faced with Hyeori, Gong, an unfamiliar man, and Huang Renjun. Renjun seemed shocked to see you.

“You requested my presence, Hyeori?” You asked. Hyeori insisted that all the members be as polite as possible to her without using honorifics while you were at the base. The base was almost like home in a sense, and everyone here was to be considered equal.

“Yes, Y/N. This is Johnny, the leader of S-NCT, and of course you already know Renjun,” Hyeori introduced the two men sitting opposite of her. You bowed to them both.

“Hello, I am Y/L/N Y/N, nice to meet you both,” You said, waving at the two men in front of you. Hyeori motioned for you to sit next to her-obviously placing you as far away from Gong the Creep as possible. You sat down and noticed Renjun staring, but when you met his gaze, rather than looking away he made direct eye contact and continued staring.

“Well Hyeori, I do believe the meeting can finally begin now that everyone is here,” Johnny spoke, crossing his right leg over his left.

“Ah yes of course. I know Y/N knows the current state of things between S-NCT and K-251, but does Renjun know?” Hyeori asked, to which Johnny shook his head. “Well then, I’ll begin with a debriefing. For the past few months, Johnny and I have been working together to find a way for both our mafia’s to have holds in China and Japan. Recently, we came to the conclusion of uniting our mafias to allow for K-251 to have holds in China and for S-NCT to have holds in Japan. The basis of this unification, however, will be a marriage between one member of S-NCT and one member of K-251. Johnny chose his member, and I have chosen mine. So, Y/N and Renjun, you two will be united in marriage in 3 months time.” You nearly choked on your spit. Marriage? You barely turned 20 last month, now you’re getting married? You looked up and saw Renjun had a similar reaction, but was much more obvious about it.

“Marriage, Johnny? I’m not your sister you can’t just marry me off like that! I’m only 20, I have so much more time before marriage!” Renjun yelled. He had begun to pace the room and threw his hands in very angry gestures while he spoke.

“I’ve made my decision Renjun. You had already met Y/N and threatened to kill her-this is your punishment for nearly ruining my chances of creating this deal.” Damn thatt was harsh. You were considered a punishment now. Wonderful.

“As for you Y/N, you were the only logical choice. All of our other female members couldn’t hold a candle to your talent and skill,” Hyeori said, sipping her coffee. Gong snorted.

“Not to mention she’s the prettiest member too,” He said. That sent shivers down your spine. Gong was being extra creepy today.

“Yah! That’s my fiance you’re talking about! Shut it before I make you!” You looked up in shock at Renjun. In just a few short minutes he went from rejecting the whole idea of marrying you to calling you his fiance. You were in awe. Renjun noticed you staring and sighed. “What? I’m right aren’t I?” He said, sitting back down in front of Gong. You nodded slightly while Hyeori applauded. For what? You never knew but you assumed she was applauding herself this time.

“Wonderful! I knew this would turn out! Well, with everything set in place, I now adjourn this meeting! Y/N, Renjun, decide between the two of you how things will continue-also don’t forget about the wedding!” Hyeori said. You waited until she got up to stand up. Renjun however, took a beeline to the door. He’s so disrespectful to his leader, you didn’t understand how he got away with it.

“Yah, I’m not waiting all day. Hurry up or I’m leaving you behind,” Renjun half shouted from the hallway. You rolled your eyes and walked out of the room to meet your new fiance. You never really noticed how attractive he actually was. His black hair framed his face well and his facial expressions made you giggle a bit. Renjun raised an eyebrow at you. “What are you giggling at?” He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“You.”

“What’s so funny about me?”

“Your face.”

“Well you’re stuck with this face so try to not laugh at it too much.”

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” You said. Renjun had a very similar sense of humor to you, which was very lucky. At least you won’t be stuck laughing at your own jokes for the rest of your life.

“So what are we going to do?” Renjun asked, walking beside you to the common room. You checked your watch, which read 11:28.

“Lunch? I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich,” You said, dropping your left hand to your side. Renjun nodded and you walked to the kitchen in silence. Once there, you immediately began working. You grabbed your supplies for grilled cheese and began working.

“Well, Y/N, we might as well get to know each other,” Renjun said, leaning on a counter to your right.

“What to you want to know?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the frying bread.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“All of them. It switches day to day. My turn, where are you from? Your accent doesn’t sound Korean,” You asked, flipping the sandwich.

“I’m from China. What's your favorite movie?”

“Definitely the Harry Potter series. What's your favorite food?”

“Hot pot. What’s your most prized possesion?” “My moms necklace. What’s your favorite place?”

“My room. Favorite animal?”

“Definitely a dolphin. Favorite color?” “Red. Siblings?” “None that I know of. When’s your birthday?”

“March 23. You?”

“July 16. Your sandwich is done.”

“Thanks,” Renjun took the plate from our hand and walked over to the table in the dining

room. You finished your sandwich and joined him at the table. Renjun put his phone down and smiled at you.

“This sandwich is really good Y/N. Thanks for making it,” Renjun said, taking another bite. You smiled.

“I love cooking so I have a bunch of recipe’s I’m waiting to try,” You said, taking a bite of your sandwich. Renjun looked at you in awe.

“Y/N I willingly find new recipes for you if it means I don’t have to cook. I will to literally anything else in the house but cook,” Renjun said, taking another bite of his nearly finished sandwich.

“I can vouch for that. Renjun hates cooking. He literally made a deal with one of our members to avoid having dinner duties ever,” Johnny said. You wondered when he got there and just how long he had been listening.

“Johnny why you gotta do me dirty like that? I’m perfectly capable of throwing myself under the bus thank you,” Renjun said, finishing his sandwich.

“Would you like another one?” You asked, making Renjun shake his head.

“I’m good for now. Just finish your sandwich so we can go somewhere,” Renjun said, leaning back in his chair and shaking his leg. You nodded and ate the last little bit of your sandwich and grabbed the plates.

“I’ll do the dishes, Y/N. You cooked, it’s the least I could do.” Renjun grabbed your shoulder and gently moved you out of the way. You were surpised-you always cooked and did the dishes. This was new.

“Seems you two are getting along well,” Johnny said, making you blush and turn your head. You couldn’t see Renjuns face, but with the way he physically tensed up, you guessed it was a similar shade of red. Johnny laughed. “Just remember to use protection, kiddos,” Johnny said, walking out of the room.

“Yah!” Renjun yelled, making Johnny laugh. You turned a deeper shade of red. Renjun finished washing the dishes and turned to you. “I-I’m sorry about Johnny. Sometimes he acts more like an embarrasing dad than a ruthless mafia leader,” Renjun apologized, his face an equally bright shade of red. You just nodded and kept your eyes on the floor. After standing awkwardly in the kitchen for what seemed like forever, you decided to break the silence.

“Wanna go to our shooting range?” You asked. It hadn’t been very long after eating, so you figured you could just start with simple handguns and stuff like that.

“Sure. Lead the way.” And with that, you two were on your way to the shooting range. It was a quiet walk, both of you still feeling awkward about Johnny’s earlier comment. Once there, you led Renjun to the small gun range that was meant for short distances.

“What’s this? I’m a sniper, Y/N. I’ll ace this,” Renjun said, grabbing a Colt from the rack. You grabbed one as well and checked to see if it was loaded-which it wasn't. You loaded the gun and stood by the firing stalls.

“Lets make it a competition then. See who’s got better aim. Best out of 6 wins,” You said, putting on the noise cancelling headphones and the goggles that your standing gun expert Jinyoo required-Renjun followed suit.

“You’re on Y/N.”

“May the best sniper win.”

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

Natural Attraction

Part One // Part Three

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: Not really requested. I wanted to do a second part to ‘So wrong it’s right’. Angel and the reader are forced to work together - will the tension lift or just get harder to bear?

Warning: Sex references. Nudity that is not described. Violence. Blood mention. Swearing.

A/N: I adore writing a plot, can you tell? I could probably keep writing this one for several parts but I think I’m leaving it at this for now 💖🖤

Ever since you and Angel shared that kiss, he had been avoiding you. You had ignited his world, left it simultaneously crumbling and revived. You made him question himself. His goodness. You made him hate you. Need you. There was so much spinning around his head. You made him dizzy.

He had been avoiding you again since that night. It had been a week and no word from him. Not even a punch was thrown your way. You felt disappointed, lacking. His presence made you feel more alive.

The object that you had taken from what had been LA’s answer to the demon mob had been a bracelet. It appeared like one half of a handcuff and could be attached and removed in a similar way. It was encrusted jewels that held ancient and priceless magic. Power.

In the wrong hands, this could allow demons to own the earth. Live above ground. Vampires could embrace the day. Demons could control the laws of the land.

But you didn’t care in the slightest for this. The real reason you had wanted it was for vain purposes. It was pretty and you had deserved something nice after scraping a living for so many centuries. You had finally saved up enough.

You admired it, slipping your sleeve over it before you left for the evening. You assumed one day that you would have to pawn it so you wore it at any given opportunity. Even if it didn’t match your lifestyle or your outfit.

You savoured the metallic feeling of it against your skin. Of the power it held, that you held by wearing it but not giving it permission to have.

But this powerful feeling wasn’t destined to last. You were jumped. Taken off-guard and slammed to the ground. The weapon they used curled around your skin, slicing into it. While you were distracted by the pain, they took your bracelet off your wrist. They had been too fast for you.

“Oh, I’m gonna kill you” You muttered, trying to haul yourself up.

“I’m dead... and soon the rest of the world will be” he cackled.

“You- what?!” You rolled your eyes, God you despised caricature-like villains, “Come on, man, get a life! Taking over the world is so last century!” You said getting to your feet. But before you could react you got punched in the face, sending you flying back into a brick wall. Your head cracking painfully against the brick. It knocked you out.

When you finally came to, the sun was threatening to rise. You had to scramble to an abandoned building waiting out the day. You spent the entire day thinking. Cursing what was going to have to happen. You would have to ask him for help. Ask him to save the world. By your side.

God, it sickened you. To even dance near the light. To be seen as good by association.

You entered the hotel like you wanted to be there. Skipping into the various rooms looking for a sign of life, or at least living dead.

“Angel?” You called, “Aaangel” You cooed, your voice sing-songing through the halls of the hotel.

“He’s not here and I suggest you leave” Wesley appeared as if from nowhere. It almost made even you jump.

“Hey, Wes! How’s that Sumerian going? Remember: it’s all in the vowels”

“Stop it. Actions have consequences, Y/n. He told us what you did”

“Yeah, I mean it kind of takes two, right?” You winked but he just stared. Hard. He was usually pleasant with you despite your reputation. You had seen him as a kind of friend. The only one you had, mortal or otherwise.

So, your dead heart sunk further down your chest at his tone. Which made you hurt. Which in turn, made you threatening. You stepped towards him, staring him down.

He whipped out a cross but you took it from his hand, grasping it tight despite the pain and arching an eyebrow at him before you threw it behind you.

“You attempted to use the Jewel of Latrop on him and now you wish to-” Wesley began, showing you that Angel knew exactly why you had been there in the first place. It was going to make it harder to convince everyone that you came in peace.

“What? No I- we just kissed” You shrugged. Of course he had told them you were evil. He wanted them to kill you because he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

Maybe this information was good information. You could use this. See if you could find a way to get him onside. Or, at least, back with his lips on yours.

You explained. Giving a mostly honest account and luckily, Wesley believed you. Saw you as sincere. You had a reputation but you had allowed Wesley to see your other side. The one that enjoyed reading to pass your eternity. Could speak several languages and weirdly enjoyed assisting and teaching others.

I mean, it pissed you off when they couldn’t understand your simple explanations, but when they really did learn something you had this weird pride that rose in your otherwise dead chest.

Wes saw this and chose, despite the real threat you could pose, to see the good in you. He invited you into an office that you knew had been Angel’s. But now, somehow it was Wesley’s. Apparently there had been a reshuffle, with Wesley taking the lead on the cases.

After a while where you and Wesley sat and shared notes on a text you had both been reading, the rest of the team arrived. Wesley introduced you to those you hadn’t met before.

Then he walked in. Face like thunder, tone hardened at your presence.

“What’re they doing here?” He all but growled.

“Turns out, angel you misunderstood the situation. It’s imperative we work with our friend to regain-” Wesley spoke in your favour, he did make the decisions around here now after all.

“They don’t have a soul” Angel argued thickly.

“I have a conscience, will that do for now? I don’t like it either, but this directly affects me so-”

“See? Selfish. Willing to turn on us all for a cheap buck”

“A cheap fu-?” You teased devilishly but he cut you off.

“Buck” He corrected over your words making you roll your eyes.

“You’re just sour that you don’t get me all to yourself aren’t you? Don’t worry, sweet Angel, we can pick up where we left-” He cut you off in his favourite way. Grabbing you and slamming you against something hard. The rest of the team intake a sharp collective breath. They had never seen him this dangerous in the flesh. They watched as both of you held each other’s gaze, “Here? Now?” You teased your tone suggesting mock-scandal.

He shoved you again and Wesley tried to intervene without success. Your eyes were locked on each other, neither of you backing down until you spoke up again, “I’d say ow, but you’re not pinching hard enough” you smiled wide at the way his eyes flickered at your words. You stared at each other for what felt like an age. The demon within both of you calling to the other.

But he remembered where he was and how he was trying to make amends with the team so he let go. Almost too quickly as he rubbed the back of his neck and stepped back. As far away from you in the room as he could.

It was dangerous for him to be around you. You brought something out in him, almost primal. You annoyed him and you made him feel something… else. He couldn’t quite figure what it was but he didn’t like it.

“Do you still have the manual that it came with?”

“Manual?” You asked before realising, “Oh, big dusty book – looked a little too much like a Bible to me, so I, uh used gloves and trashed it”

Wesley glared, the manual would give you ways to locate it. Plus, information on how it can be used and possible prophecies attached. You were intelligent, but you weren’t intending to use the bracelet for anything other than a brag-able accessory.

You told them where you got rid of it and Wesley asked the others, except Angel, to try and find it. Some to the landfill and others to the area you left it.

“I need to change, can I?” You asked before you were assigned your cape and brightly coloured tights. Your clothes were ripped and hanging off you. You had been cut up in the mugging. Wesley nodded, directing you to a kind of lost property room where you could freshen up and change.

You had stripped yourself of the clothes. Some were hard to remove as dried blood had stuck the fabric to your wounds. You hissed but managed to free yourself.

You were walking around, looking through drawers and the pile in the corner. Most of it smelled musty, but beggars couldn’t be choosers so you tried to select some of the more wearable items.

After a moment as you were still deciding, a knock came at the door and someone entered.

“Oh, um, you’re-” Wesley’s eyes widened as you turned apparently unbothered that you were lacking clothes.

“Yeah?”

“Naked”

“Half” You shrugged, then remembered that this man was human. His eyes drawing to places usually hidden. “Oh, right. I don’t mind if you don’t”

The man was speechless, but not complaining in the slightest. You were comfortable with who you were. Your body, in either form. Which frustrated angel to no end.

Oh and speak of the pretty, ensouled devil…

“Wes. We need to talk about-” He cut himself off, taking in your very naked form, “Y/n” He breathed. He shut up when he realised Wes was with you. Naked you. He stared at the man, almost burning holes through him for looking. A low, predatory growl rumbled in his chest. One that you only caught, and grinned at. Which made him scowl at you instead.

“Come on, you can speak freely. We’re all friends here” You encouraged as you turned to find something wearable from the pile.

“We can’t work with them – can’t trust them, you gotta know this you’re a smart guy” Angel complimented but at Wes’ unconvinced look he continued, “Look, they’re bad news. There’s no soul, or morality, it’s just pure demon”

“Angel, we know each other. We’re acquaintances” Wesley sighed as your smug smile grew. You were pleased Wesley still respected the friendship you felt.

“Wha-”

“And I’m not amoral. I don’t have a soul, you’re right. But a soul doesn’t automatically equate to morality. Humans, demons even vampires are faced with a string of choices with incalculable consequences” You pulled on some clothes as you spoke, the room’s attention on you, “Some choices are good, some very bad and others… well, they’re just choices. I want to stop this apocalypse. I want my bracelet. I choose that and if my reasoning is not to your taste, well, maybe we can find some other part of me that is…”

You finished your speech, your body now fully clothed as you arched an eyebrow at Angel to punctuate your suggestion. He just scowled and turned back to Wes, which almost made you pout.

“Come on, Wes. I mean, they’re basically Spike’s more immoral twin” He gestured towards you, not properly able to look at you. Less his voice dwindle into nothing. His demon half threatening to take over like it always did when his focus was on you. he was fighting this hold you appeared to have on him. Tooth and nail.

“Who?” You asked, “You’re telling me I have more competition than the pretty girl down the hall?”

He gritted his teeth, about to begin another delicious argument. Hopefully culminating in him taking your clothes back off you…

But then his little gang of merry men (and women) turned up looking a little worse for wear. They returned, explaining that they had found the manual. But lost a fight against your mugger. Meaning that the dark side now had the manual and the bracelet. Which now meant that they could release the demon underworld without the need for a Hellmouth.

Gunn had managed to follow them to some old seedy bar but wasn’t allowed through the door because he was human. You and Angel shared a look despite his previous statements. And then nodded an unspoken agreement despite his words. You would both go.

You took it in turns threatening the guy behind the bar for information. The heat rose in the air. He enjoyed watching the way you worked on the man. Pounded him. You were controlled in a way most vampires weren’t. Angel took over, pushing you to the side, balling up the man’s shirt and threatening him.

He eventually gave up the information. The name of the demon. The reason why he needed the bracelet.

“Don’t you feel it in the air? It’s coming. The end” He finished, choking slightly on the blood running from his nose.

“Sure. Something’s in the air” You glanced at angel and gave him a smirk as he let go of the guy and just walked away.

You caught up with him and walked back together. But something had changed. Angel’s face was set. At how much you had so visibly enjoyed hurting that man. At how he felt it too. But couldn’t move for the guilt of it.

“Well, lover, didn’t we make the perfect pair?” You sang these words, your swagger beside him made his face harden.

“You think this is love?” He swung around and glowered at you, “You can’t love”

“I feel. I touch. I fuck. Why can’t I love?” You questioned, turning to face where he had stopped on the sidewalk.

“You’re a demon. You- you’re sick”

“Yeah, well it takes one to-” He punched the words from you before they could form.

You laughed at this action, rubbing your jaw as he tensed his own. You just wouldn’t quit. It infuriated him.

It came down to his own guilt. As always. His own hatred of his nature mirrored onto you. And you were perceptive enough to name it. Making him close a fist to punch you again that you happily blocked as you continued telling him exactly why he hated you. Secretly envied you. Was incredibly attracted to you.

You read him like a book and he hated it. Hated how vulnerable you made him feel. He hated that you understood him. This part of him. This hatred he held for his demon side.

Instead of fighting, your words or your body, he just stalked off with you on his tail.

It had now been a few weeks since you had found out the information you had needed. You learnt all about the ritual. The one to open Hell on earth. A temporary Hellmouth using the bracelet and an old incantation. You managed to find a way to prevent it. Hatch a sort of plan. All you needed to do was figure out where and when.

You actually settled into the team well. You were human enough for the living ones and demon enough for the others. They found themselves becoming increasingly fond of you, despite their better judgement.

The tension between you and Angel was noticed. Discussed and dissected when they thought you couldn’t hear. You often could, even when you had both slipped away to relieve some of the tension you had built up. It had started early one morning, when the rest were sleeping and you and Angel couldn’t bare to prolonged eye contact any longer. It was drawn out and heated.

He tugged you aside and met his lips hotly with yours. Pressing you into walls. Shoving you against furniture. Walls cracking, furniture splintering. You gripped him desperately so hard you almost broke the skin.

The air began cracking with electricity. Instinctual rumbles of desire, like thunder. Neither of you were able to figure whose chest it was coming from. You were beginning to meld into one. This moment was like the beginning of a storm. Heat rising almost unbearably. Air thick with arousal. You could both taste it in the air. On the other’s tongues.

You carried on this way, for weeks. Hissing and writhing against each other. Swallowing the others moans. Rooms shaking. The scent of your mutual lust rolling off you in waves. Like a perfume.

You were often thrashing against the other in a fight for control. It became intense. It was sizzling and often quick. Stolen moments away from the others. An all-encompassing earthquake masquerading as a sordid and needed release.

Something had shifted between you. But these moments only fuelled your frustration. Your addiction to the other. It made you want more. Think of each other more. Crave the others body… mind.

You clung to every scrap of information you learnt about the other. Still not able to stop yourselves from trading insults. You found yourself enjoying being a part of this team. Being so close to him. For some reason, the most recent time after you had sex, the words slipped out.

“You know, I like it when you show this side of you” You whispered as you both put your clothes back on and started to get back to the others who were not fooled in the slightest by what you were doing.

“Yeah?” He asked, surprised how open you were being. But you just nodded, your thumb running across his ridged forehead that he had forgotten he was showing. It matched yours and this time, he didn’t pull away. He just stared. As if he was studying you.

You then broke apart quickly when Fred ran in, averting her gaze awkwardly and then having to look up to announce that they had finally located the demon that had your bracelet. Who was beginning to open a portal to the Hellmouth on the other side of the city.

It was easy to locate, considering the massive green portal that had opened up out of nowhere and the demon with the maniacal laugh that carried several blocks.

None of you wasted any time. Cordelia and Gunn took out the guards and Wesley and Fred began to set up their incantation to prevent any demons leaving the temporary Hellmouth.

You and Angel took on the main demon. The one that mugged you. When the guards went down, Gunn and Cordy joined you.

You all fought hard, calculating his moves ahead of your own. The ugly demon got the worst of your punches. Your fangs bared, ferocity evident to all. Your fists flew, legs kicking out mercilessly. People had to get out of your way, you had become indiscriminate.

Then, Gunn ran in wielding a sword and took the demon’s head clean off. You stopped, watching the portal close up. The demon who lost its head turned to a pile of purple goo, oozing down the sidewalk. The metal of the bracelet still solid and dropping to the floor.

You caught it with a smirk, watching as the puddle of goo began to drip down the drain. You snapped it back onto your wrist. You shrugged, ready to leave them and get back to your life.

Everyone paused for a moment, before taking a collective breath. Then their focus turned to you.

“Y/n? We can’t let you leave with that”

“Now, I never said this should be destroyed – it’s mine. Won it fair and square in that fight” You explained but stopped to listen to them.

“It can’t be allowed to get back into the wrong hands” Wes reasoned with you.

“Wrong hands being yours” Angel added from beside you which made you raise an eyebrow.

“No. It’s mine, I waited a long time to save up for-”

“Hand it over” He urged, his hand waited palm up for you to give in. Your eyes waging a separate battle from your actions.

“Can’t do that” You snatched Angel’s hand and the bracelet magically cuffed you both together. It had properties you had hidden from the others, the manual wasn’t needed by you because you had already read up on it extensively.

What? You never claimed to be perfect.

You held a stake to his chest as you backed you both away. The others all looked, eyes wide. They had become almost fond of you. Forgetting the lack of soul. Wesley started to try to reason with you but Angel put a hand out to stop him as he moved back with you. Angel nodded at them to stand down, this was between the two of you.

You slid down an alleyway, the seedy kind that had been witness to many an entanglement like this one. You pushed him back against the wall the way he had so many times to you. Your lips pressing to his neck hungrily. Kisses sloppy with passion. He started to move his cuffed hand to reach for you but you pulled it back with your own. He groaned as you pressed further against him, friction almost making him wild. The way you always made him feel.

“Why did you do that?” He managed to mumble between your urgent kisses.

“Wanted a… little time away from those… prying eyes”

“There’s better ways to get me on my own” He muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice as you leaned to press more enthusiastic kisses against his neck. His free hand moved so that he was grasping the base of your skull, strands of hair between his fingers.

“Not quite as fun though, right?” You mumbled, smiling back.

He chuckled and shook his head. You had both been waiting for this. You moved from his neck, kissing every so often along his jaw, the corner of his mouth. You notice that his face morphed into the demon. This time he wasn’t embarrassed to bare this to you. It felt natural. Kissing you felt natural.

He didn’t wait. Didn’t hesitate this time. He slammed his lips into yours again. Directing you toward his lips with a dangerous intensity.

The force behind this honest desire excited you more than anything. You kissed, fiery and urgent. It was a moment stolen in time. The adrenaline kicking you both into overdrive. Lips meeting lips. Skin meeting skin.

When you were both panting, from some transferred habit you only gained when you were both together you moved to look in his eyes. Proximity still intense as you smirked at his reaction to you. His need for you.

Then, just like that, the handcuff disappeared and he smiled. Shoving you off him, but it was more playful than it had ever been before. He was warming to you. He still didn’t enjoy admitting it, but it was there. More than evident to both of you now.

He began to walk away but you called out to him.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, uncuffing the bracelet from your wrist and throwing it to him. He caught it easily with both hands and looked down at the object. This action surprised him, but he wouldn’t allow it to show on his face.

Both of you were closer to the other than even you realised in this moment. In morality. In desire.

“Don’t tell anyone” You warned, “You owe me”

He smirked at this. The upturn of his mouth made your heart begin to beat. You swear it happened. Your chest vibrating suddenly.

“See you around, Y/n” He shook his head, warming to the idea of you with every step away he took.

“Tomorrow night?” You asked, your voice held that note of pleading you really wished you could have masked. He just laughed as he walked away, shaking his head and waving the bracelet as a form of goodbye.

You both knew you would be seeing each other as soon as physically possible. You smiled despite yourself, walking away in the opposite direction. This was going to be fun and you had the rest of your eternity to explore it.

#Angel btvs #Angel #Angel x reader #Angel imagine #Angel x you #Angel btvs x reader #ats #btvs #ats x you #ats x reader #ats imagine #btvs imagine #btvs x you #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #angel the series #angel the series imagine

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the-great-escapist99 · 4 years ago

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It’s All in the Past - Zuko x Reader

Part 26

Summary: University is starting in less than two weeks and Y/n is in need of a new place closer to campus. Thankfully, she learns an old friend is looking for a roommate. However, this old friend and her might have a lot more in common than she anticipated, which brings up quite a few complications...

Warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of rape

Word Count: 4k ish?

A/N: hey lovelies!! Another part of IAITP is finally here! I’m so sorry for the wait but I had a bit of writers block and this part was a doozy. I know this is technically a smau but this chapter is written out because I didn’t feel the smau format would do it justice. Anywho, I hope y’all enjoy and lmk what u think because u kno I’m a simp for your love and support🥺🥺💕💕

Zuko left the apartment at exactly 8:50pm. It was in his best interest not to take his car, and luckily for him it wouldn’t take long to walk to the location anyway. Merchant Street was about a 7 minute walk away and he knew exactly where to find the broken building; it was an old bank, abandoned about 30 years ago, although, he’s not sure why no one’s bought the land since then. He assumed the rendezvous point was the parking lot behind the building since it was secluded: perfect for an ambush.

Zuko knew this wasn’t a perfect plan... he knew that. But, he only had so many options, and right now this was the best one. Whoever had contacted him had information on him and that meant it was his problem to handle alone. He could understand why y/n was upset with him, and he knew she was only trying to help him, but he wouldn’t put her in a situation like this if he didn’t have to. If they were looking to hurt someone then it would only be him, and he was willing to go through with that if it meant keeping her out of it. Zuko knew what kinds of information they could have found, most of them he assumed were linked to his dad and the company; another reason why Azula would be the perfect person to contact if something went awry. He trusted his friends to keep an eye out for him; they were intelligent and resourceful and he knew they could handle themselves in this situation. He just hoped they would keep their promise and follow his instructions in a worst case scenario.

He came across Merchant Street and the building was in view. Here we go, he thought.

He wasn’t aware of the person trailing him.

***

The girls knew she was going after Zuko, but y/n didn’t tell Sokka or Aang. She couldn’t exactly trust them to keep their mouths shut if they knew she was leaving, or not to follow along as well, for that matter. Zuko was stubborn, of course, but she was too, and she wasn’t going to let him steal the title of being the strong, brave one of the group. That was her job! Toph could fight her on that title, sure, but she wouldn’t let Zuko have it, no sir! It was hers and that meant she had to follow him. Not because she cared about him obviously, it was about the glory! Okay, no it was because she cared about him. She’d admitted that to the girls and to him earlier anyway so she couldn’t lie to herself. She was worried for him.

Y/n crept out her window about a minute or two after Zuko had left, just to be sure he wouldn’t notice her. After that it was a trek to Merchant Street and to the broken building a few paces after. The night air was chilly so she was glad she’d grabbed her hoodie before climbing outside. It was October now, and even in the dying light she could see the trees start to change colours. It would have been beautiful under different circumstances. Maybe she’d ask Zuko to see it with her when this was all over.

The scenery reminded her a little of autumn with Zuko when they were kids. They’d spend the day with each other at school and then they’d go home and play games in y/n’s backyard. It was always at y/n’s house because Ursa never allowed them to play near her own. Y/n can understand why now, although she didn’t at the time; it’s probably better that she’d stayed away from Ozai as long as she did.

Zuko was a troublemaker when they were younger. But, there was one day in particular that she remembers where Zuko got himself into pretty deep shit, and he almost brought y/n down with him. The school bully had been messing around with the other kids more than usual that day. Usually, he didn’t bother with Zuko or her since Zuko was known for his fiery spirit and could easily take down anyone who tried to mess with him, and because y/n spent so much time with him no one dared to come for her out of fear of what Zuko might do. But, that day the bully was feeling particularly bold...

***

Zuko reached the back of the building. Across the lot he could make out four figures. As soon as they saw him approach they made their way over to meet him halfway. Once their faces became clearer, Zuko couldn’t believe what he was seeing; or rather who.

“Jet,” Zuko sneered.

“Hey pal. Long time no see.”

“What do you want?” Zuko eyed the other three cautiously. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Jet wouldn’t have brought backup if he wasn’t planning something. Though, Zuko was confident he could take them in a fight if need be.

“Touchy touchy, so eager to get to the point. That’s fine, I figured you would be,” Jet smirked. “Where’re your friends?”

“Not here.”

“Too bad. I was hoping I’d have an audience when I beat the shit out of you,” Zuko stiffened. “Well, not me exactly. My friends here were happy to take up the offer instead.”

“Why’s that? Scared I’ll break your nose a second time?”

At that, Jet growled. He looked like he was about ready to rush in a take a swing at Zuko, but stopped himself.

“Don’t you wanna know what I found?”

“I figured this meet up was more than just a friendly hello, so yeah,” Zuko never let his guard down as they spoke.

“It’s pretty well known that your dad went to prison, I’m not surprised about that. He was a bastard after all, seems to run in the family,” even though he hated his dad, the comment still made Zuko’s blood boil. There were plenty of people in his family who he loved and respected, and he wouldn’t tolerate insults toward them from anybody, let alone this asshole. “But, it looks like there was some pretty illegal shit that went down in the company before he left. The same company you recently took over, am I right?”

“Get to the point, Jet.”

“I don’t think the public would much appreciate it if they knew the kinds of things your company did while your dad was in charge.”

“Like you said, it was when my dad was in charge. Things are different now.”

“It doesn’t make any difference. People don’t care who was in charge when scandals happen, they just care that they happened, and they’ll blame you for it. It’ll ruin you, Zuko.”

“You’re insane.”

Jet laughed, “That’s true.”

“I’ll ask again, then: what do you want?”

“I want my pride back. That night you took y/n away from me hurt, pal. It’s your turn.”

***

Y/n reached the front of the broken building. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t realize she was already there. The place already felt foreboding, and she was hoping whatever she saw behind the building wouldn’t scare her. Not that she was scared; in fact, she was gearing up to tackle anyone who would dare to hurt her man. Yes, her man. Y/n crept around the side of the building, making sure to keep her body pressed against the brick walls. She could hear the commotion before she saw it, and she poked her head around the corner to watch what was happening.

Zuko, in all his glory, was taking on three guys in a fight while a fourth stood back and watched. Most people didn’t know this about Zuko, but he’d been taking different forms of combat classes since he was little, they both had. The difference was that y/n was much more open about it. So, y/n wasn’t surprised to see Zuko handling the three men with ease, though she was still worried. One thing she had learned was that it didn’t matter how well trained you were... one slip up could be fatal. In this case, she was more angry with him than anything else. She knew it would be dangerous and she had told him that, but he didn’t listen. She just wished she had gotten here earlier so she could understand what their motive was. That’s when she began to analyze who exactly these people were to Zuko, but she immediately regretted that decision when she really looked at the face of the fourth person.

Her heart stopped and her blood ran cold when she recognized him. It was Jet. That slimy bastard was the one behind this whole thing. Of course he was! Zuko must have humiliated Jet more than he let on that night, and while that put a bit of a smile on her face, she wasn’t any more relieved about the situation. Then, her heart stopped a second time, but for a different reason.

Zuko had made a mistake.

A small stone had caught underneath Zuko’s shoe in the darkening space making him stumble just slightly, but it was enough for the other three men to take the advantage. Jet laughed loudly as his ‘friends’ began to pummel Zuko. There was a sickening gleam in his eyes and y/n almost panicked remembering it as the same look he gave her the night of his party. Zuko fell harshly to the ground as the largest of the three men struck him on the side of the head.

No, she thought, fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey!” Y/n yelled running out of her place behind the wall of the building and into the open parking lot. “Stop it!” The men stopped their assault momentarily.

“I thought you’d said none of your friends were coming, Zuko,” Jet sneered. “I’m not mad about this particular friend showing up, though. Makes things more exciting, if you know what I mean.”

Zuko didn’t move much from his position on the ground, but he flicked his eyes up to y/n’s own when he’d heard her voice. At first, there was anger in his expression, and honestly y/n wasn’t surprised to see that, but slowly it turned to worry and regret.

“Y/n what are you doing?!” Zuko’s voice gave a hint of something almost desperate, like he wanted her to leave, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Even now, she was looking for ways to frustrate the shit out of him; this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

“Well, listen, I know you said not to come with, but honestly it was a little boring without you at home so... here I am!” She gave him a half smirk, Zuko just glared back. “Besides, if I’d known it was Jet who called you here I definitely wouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

“Trust me, if I’d known it was Jet I wouldn’t have come myself at all.”

“Awe sugar,” Jet interrupted then, directing his words toward y/n, “I love that you’re still thinking about me. Although, I’m a little hurt you chose Zuko here over me, especially considering his history.”

“I told you! I wasn’t even in charge at the ti- argh!” Zuko’s sentence was cut off by a boot to his chest. He began coughing harshly. Y/n looked menacingly at the man responsible, striding forward a few steps.

“I told you to stop,” she growled.

“Or what? What are you gonna do, huh?” the man spoke to her with a chuckle. He was quite large, broad in the shoulders, and his voice was deep. Y/n wasn’t very intimidated, if she was being honest. She was more focused on Jet than the other three; he was unpredictable.

“I don’t think you wanna find out what I’m gonna do, so I’ll tell you one last time to lay off!”

The man drew his head back in a loud laugh, his friends snickering behind him.

“Jet, do you believe this bitch?” facing Jet, who didn’t speak, but stared blankly at y/n. The man then turned back to face her himself. “Your boyfriend didn’t stand a chance against us, what makes you think you could do anything?”

Y/n didn’t say anything further to the man. She stared him down, but with a relaxed form. This somehow made him incredibly angry. With one last shove to Zuko’s side, he stalked over to y/n with his chest puffed out. Still, y/n didn’t flinch or move from her position. When he was within arms distance he reached out to grab her, only for y/n to move out of the way just slightly, taking his outstretched arm and tossing him over her shoulder. Although he was much larger than she was, it wasn’t hard to shift herself into a position where he would be at her mercy. As his body flung forward and crashed onto the ground, he stared up at her in shock. He only registered his pain when she took his arm and yanked it to the side. At this point, the other two men had taken their focus off of Zuko to help their struggling comrade. Y/n took care of them just as easily.

Although Zuko had seen y/n fight before, he didn’t realize how much she’d improved since then. It was like watching a dance; a beautifully coordinated and mesmerizing dance. Her movements flowing and graceful, despite the fact that she was taking on three men twice her size. But, Zuko still felt the need to protect her with everything he had, even if she could take these men with her eyes closed. So, he tried to stand. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his chest like a sharp knife was gnawing at his insides; he must have broken a rib or two. Not the first time it’s happened, so Zuko shook off his discomfort and deemed it unimportant for the time being. His priority was y/n.

The second thing he noticed was the pounding in his head once he got himself upright. This made it difficult for him to focus properly, which is why when a figure came up from behind him he wasn’t quick enough to react. Jet pushed Zuko back down to the ground, Zuko landing flat on his stomach, his face pressed into the cement. Jet’s foot landed squarely on Zuko’s back, eliciting a painful groan from the pressure put on his ribs. His foot stayed there, pinning Zuko to the ground and ever so slightly increasing the pressure to his chest. At some point the pressure became too much and Zuko cried out unintentionally.

Y/n whipped her head around at the sound of Zuko’s cry. The fight was basically over and it didn’t seem like these men had much else to offer her, so she knew she could take her eyes off of them for now to focus on the real problem: Jet. As it so happened, he was the cause of Zuko’s shout, his foot pressed into the center of his back keeping him pinned to the rock-hard ground.

“Jet, get off him. Now.”

“Or what, sugar-tits? You gonna punish me?”

Zuko squirmed underneath Jet’s hold, fury emitting from him at the way Jet was speaking to y/n. He would not hesitate to beat the man again if he got the chance. Y/n just rolled her eyes, she knew what Jet was trying to do.

“You sure you wanna try that? Did you even see what I just did to your friends?”

As if in response, the three men groaned from the ground behind her.

“You know,” Jet spoke, “you’re a lot more capable of handling yourself than I thought you’d be. Guess it was a good thing I’d made sure you had a little extra to drink that night. Or maybe not. Could’a been more exciting if I didn’t.”

“Shut up!” Y/n screamed, her fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t want to react, she knew Jet was trying to rile her up so she couldn’t think as clearly. But, he’d hit a nerve bringing up the night he’d almost raped her. It was a topic she was trying to avoid at this moment.

“Awe. Sorry, we’re a little touchy on that subject, huh?”

“I said SHUT UP!”

Y/n went to move toward Jet, ready for a fight, but he had other plans. His foot pressed harder into Zuko’s back, making him cry out a second time, his fingernails scraping into the ground from the pain. Y/n stopped abruptly, her eyes widening at Zuko’s slight whimper.

“Okay, okay, stop. Please. Just-“ she hesitated for a second. “What do you want?”

Jet smiled. “It’s funny since I didn’t really expect you to show up. But since you’re here now, I guess it means something. This prick isn’t worth your time, y/n. He’s weak and he doesn’t deserve you. Why don’t you come back to me? I can take care of you, we can start over. And, I’d never hurt you, not like he has.”

Y/n stopped short at his last comment. How did he know about their past? How did he know Zuko had hurt her before? Jet must have noticed her expression because he continued...

“I know a lot about Zuko here, especially about the things he’s done to people he supposedly ‘loves’. There’s a lot he hasn’t told you. His sister isn’t the only one capable of doing a little research.” At that, he glared down at Zuko, increasing the pressure to his back ever so slightly.

Zuko gasped. So, he knew. He knew about everything; about how he’d asked Azula to look into his history, about his shared past with y/n... everything.

“I’m sorry about what I did to you earlier. But, I’m willing to make it up to you if you come back to me,” Jet spoke calmly to y/n. It was almost too much. Y/n looked down at her feet, unsure of how to go on. Zuko was only watching her with pleading eyes, hoping to god she wouldn’t believe what Jet was telling her.

After a brief moment, y/n looked up determined. She’d made up her mind. She walked calmly toward the two, stopping only inches away and looked straight into Jet’s eyes. Then, she offered her hand to him.

“You’re right Jet. I’ll give you another chance.”

Zuko’s heart sunk. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Just like that she’d left him to suffer at her feet. He was heartbroken, yes, but he supposed he deserved it. It wasn’t like he expected this to last - nothing ever did. He had hurt her too much to ever deserve her love, and y/n knew that. She could never be with him after everything he had done to her. She deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t weak like him, someone who could protect her. Zuko was a failure, and he should have known y/n could never love someone like him. His own father didn’t.

Jet smiled broadly, taking his foot off of Zuko’s back and grasping y/n outstretched hand. He walked a couple steps toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist, one hand travelling towards her ass.

“I knew you’d make the right choice, baby. You’re mine.”

Y/n looked him in the eyes, a small smile gracing her lips. Just as Jet was about to lean down for a kiss, y/n took that moment to strike, ramming her knee into Jet’s groin. He doubled over, wheezing, giving y/n the chance to strike his head, making him drop to the ground, his nose spurting blood down to his chin. Zuko was shocked, but immensely relieved. He felt like he could breathe again as y/n rushed over to his side.

“Are you alright? Where does it hurt?” She began asking him once she’d knelt by his side. Zuko just lay there captivated by her.

“You didn’t go with him,” he said finally.

“What? No, of course not! Zuko, I would never choose him over you... did you think I would?” She asked sadly.

“Well... yeah. I mean, kinda? I don’t know, I-“

“Zuko,” she interrupted him, “Look at me. I will always choose you. You’re important to me.”

Zuko watched her as she helped him to get on his feet, a small smile creeping onto his face. He was important to her.

The moment was interrupted by a glint in the corner of his eye just behind y/n. Without thinking, Zuko rushed to pull her behind him, shielding her from the impact of the knife which had just imbedded itself into his shoulder. Zuko yelled in pain, gripping onto y/n’s shirt while blood flowed freely down his back. Y/n was screaming. Jet backed away slowly, after having recovered from y/n’s attack and retaliating with the pocketknife he kept hidden in his shoe. He hadn’t meant for it to hit Zuko, and frankly he was surprised when it did, not fully registering the weight of his actions. He immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction leaving his comrades, as well as y/n and Zuko, on their own.

“Zuko,” y/n cried, “hey, look at me. Zuko, please-“

“Y/n, I’m fine,” Zuko forced out. “Just give me a second.”

“You’re not fine! You-“

“There they are! Guys over here!” A voice shouted suddenly. It was Sokka.

Behind Sokka was the whole group: Aang, Katara, Suki, and Toph. They all rushed to the couple, at which point Zuko began leaning heavily on y/n for support. Y/n immediately lowered the both of them to the ground, looking to her friends in desperation and placing her palm firmly over the wound. Zuko hissed. She maneuvered him into a position where his uninjured shoulder was leaning against her while they both sat on the pavement.

“What happened?” Katara questioned once they were close enough to see the damage.

Y/n looked to Zuko’s injury with regret, “Jet happened.”

“What?!” Toph yelled from behind the group.

“Guys?” Zuko spoke roughly, “What the hell? I thought I told you all not to come!”

“Zuko, I swear to god, now is not the time for this,” y/n looked to him deeply unimpressed. He glared back at her.

“So,” Suki jumped in, “is someone gonna call an ambulance or...? You know, for Zuko’s shoulder?”

“Wait, what’s wrong with his shoulder?” Toph asked, confused.

“It’s got a fucking hole in it,” Sokka put it frankly.

“What the fuck, Zuko?!”

“It’s not that bad! Seriously, it’s just my shoulder, I’ll live,” he glared at them, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation.

“You need stitches,” Katara glared back. “It won’t heal properly if you leave it.”

“Katara’s in nursing, you gotta trust her, Zuko,” Aang spoke for the first time since getting there.

Zuko looked to the ground, as if it would give him an answer to his problems. He never liked the hospital. It brought back too many memories from when he was younger. Then again, his friends were right. He needed proper care, and they weren’t even aware of the possible fractures to his rib cage.

“Fine,” Zuko relented. “But, you’re not calling an ambulance. We can just drive there.”

“Zuko-“

“Y/n, I’m serious. I just need something to bandage it and I’ll be fine until we get there.”

She said nothing, but nodded reluctantly. She looked to the rest of the group and they all seemed to be in agreement: they would drive. Y/n moved to stand, careful not to move Zuko’s shoulder the wrong way, and helped him to his feet as well. Once standing, Zuko seemed to sway a bit so y/n put her arm around his waist to steady him. She looked to him concerned, his eyes seemed unfocused and all his concentration went to making sure he didn’t fall over. Obviously, he was in a worse state than he was letting on, but he’d never tell them that. Instead, he leaned slightly onto y/n as they took a few steps forward. About a five steps in, however, his knees buckled and y/n had to jump in to catch him before he hit the ground.

“Zuko!” Y/n screeched. Sokka jumped in to help as y/n held Zuko in her arms. His eyes were shut tight, fists trembling. “Damnit, I knew it!”

“I’m fin-“

“Don’t.”

Y/n was at the end of her rope. She turned determinedly to the rest of the group, but before she could get a word out she realized she didn’t have to say much for them to get the message. Sokka and Suki were already running to grab Sokka’s car that was parked just down the road while Katara, Aang, and Toph helped in making a makeshift bandage for Zuko’s shoulder. Y/n turned back to him. His eyes were drifting and he felt limp in her hold. So much for being fine, she thought. In reality she was freaking out. She didn’t know what else to do, she wasn’t a doctor!

“Zuko...” she spoke softly but stern, cradling his cheek in her palm. He drifted his focus to her eyes, searching them, but it seemed like he was struggling. “You gotta keep your eyes open for me, ‘kay?”

“Y/n,” his words were almost like a whisper, “sorry...”

“Hey, no, don’t do that. This isn’t your fault.”

He stared into her eyes, contemplating on something. Then he spoke.

“You’re important to me too...”

“I’m- what do you mean?”

“Earlier you said I was important to you... you’re important to me too.”

He lightly grasped the hand cupping his face in his own, squeezing gently in hopes of conveying what he meant. Y/n got the message loud and clear.

“Zuko-“

“Y/n I need you to lift him up a bit for me while I wrap his shoulder,” Katara chimed in, unintentionally breaking their moment. Y/n did as she was told, lifting Zuko as much as she could while Katara fit the makeshift bandage around his shoulder and torso. Zuko groaned lightly in pain, his features twisted to try and hide how much it really hurt. Y/n did everything she could to help, even if it wasn’t much. Soon, Sokka pulled the car up next to them, Suki in the passenger seat.

“We won’t be able to fit everyone, so you guys are gonna have to decide who’s going first and I’ll pick the others up later,” Sokka stated.

“Y/n,” Aang turned to her, “you should be the one to go with him. I can stay behind.”

“I’ll stay too,” Toph said. “Katara should be in the car with you guys since she’s got the most experience medical-wise.”

Everyone nodded, Aang helping to lift Zuko into the back seat while y/n climbed in after, holding his body as close to hers as she possibly could. Katara got in on the other side of the car and they were off. Y/n never let go of Zuko the whole car ride, thinking of what he’d said to her just before. Of course he was important to her, she loved him and she would do anything for him.

Wait.

She loved him.

Oh god.

They pulled up to the emergency room, rushing to get Zuko help, and the whole way, from the car, to finding help, and finally to the whole gang sitting in the guest area waiting for some sort of update on Zuko’s condition, all she could think about was that... she loved him.

***

AHH Okok so finally finished and I’m sorry if the chapter kinda dropped off at the end🤭😬😬 but I hope you guys enjoyed, I know it’s been a whole long ass time so this was something I was looking forward too! Again, love you guys and I’ll see you at the next chapter💕✨💖🥰

Part 25 | Part 27

Tag List:

@theblueslytherin @finnydraws @mochminnie @jujugentle @someoneovertherainboww @akiris @royahllty @cjphoenix135 @fiantomartell @amazingapricot @nnon-it-up @charlenasaxen @strangeinternetwasteland @talas-starlight @xbarrjallenx @la3divine @pastel-piper @missmorosis @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @bakugouswh0r3 @teelagurl558 @duh-dobrik

#atla azula #atla smau #avatar the last airbender #atla aang #atla katara #atla sokka #atla toph #atla #atla zuko #modern atla #smau #zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #it’s all in the past

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 4 years ago

Text

Arrows & Accidents

Request: Can I request an Ezio imagine with a gender neutral or male reader where the reader is or was a student of Ezio's and has gotten themselves injured.

Warnings: Violence, graphic detail of wound/treatment, swearing in Italian, LOTS of Italian lmfao (translations at the end)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 / @yourlocalfrenchie (I know it’s a male reader but I still tagged you guys jic)

13/06/2020: Lmao I almost killed you guys… oops. Also, this is 2.9K -- I spent all day on this because once I sorted out the plot, everything else was just *chef’s kiss* hope you enjoy!

Requested by @timbreavery

----------

“You need to hit harder, Y/N.” Ezio reflected your blade effortlessly.

“I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

“Who says you’ll hurt me?” He smirked, twirling his sword with a flair.

You nodded in affirmation, and began to hail a stronger assault. Although it wasn’t enough to overwhelm Ezio, it was certainly stronger than before.

On a defensive hit, his sword sent yours flying across the training ground. “A better effort, mi amico,” he nodded approvingly.

“Pfft.” You scoffed, going to pick up your discarded weapon. In the seconds you weren’t looking, an unknown force came into contact with your back, sending you flying to the floor and away from your sword. You laid still when you felt a blade come into contact with the back of your neck.

“Mario is sending you on a mission which I don’t agree with. Personalmente, you do not have the experience. So you need to be ready, Y/N, or you will get hurt.”

When he was finished, you grabbed his wrist and forcefully brought the heel of your boot into his back. It allowed you to move the blade away from your neck. With Ezio’s balance compromised, you pushed into him until he hit the ground beside you, your arm pressing against his neck and pinning his arm beside him.

“I think I’ll be fine, Ezio.” You released him and offered a hand to help him up before readying your retrieved blade.

“Ora, un altro?”

----------

As the sun began to set, approached the site that overran itself with Templars. Your target was the Captain, who was hiding in the area. Although it was littered in ruins, you knew the general location of him, and you were ready to bring an end to his havoc. There is rarely a proper way to prepare one to end another’s life, and normally you would avoid it at all costs, but when the end of one life could bring freedom to many, it was hard to debate the argument of life for someone so evil.

Slowly, you weaved your way in between pillars. There were so many ways you could lose the upper hand, and so you kept vigilant when you moved. As you peered around the column, you saw him. He was patrolling with four other guards, and after assessing the situation, you weighed your options:

You could use a throwing knife on your target and a smoke bomb to distract.

To be more accurate, you could use a smoke bomb and charge in, hidden blade unsheathed.

“Assassino!”

Oh, great.

As guards unsheathed their swords and crossbows, you pointed your gauntlet at your target and let a bullet fly. As soon as the bang erupted in the air, you felt something pierce your abdomen, the force of it sending you backwards to the ground.

Although your target got hit in the neck, you were equally as compromised in your side.

Before they could get too close, you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over a small wall, keeping your hand pressed against the wound on your waist. You kept obstacles between you and your opponents, knowing that the only way to survive was to escape. As you reached the edge of the ruins, you spotted a horse grazing on some hay. Wasting no time, you mounted the white mare, kicking your heels into her ribs as she took off towards the city.

You had one hand holding the reins as the other reached for the foreign object embedded in your muscle; it was an arrow. Grasping the shaft, you snapped it in half, wincing as it shifted under your skin.

As you reached the city, you began to turn harsh corners to stay out of your pursuers’ line of sight. Once you deemed it far enough away, you dismounted and hit your stolen steed on the flank, making sure she fled through the streets. Eyeing a side alley, you slipped between flailing drunkards before turning one last corner, fully out of sight. Moving like you had had caused the arrowhead to move, and in doing so your robes were coloured more with crimson than with its original white. You slid down against the wall clutching your wound, needing to slow the world as it spun around you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was increasing tenfold. Feeling the blood soak your palm, you toyed with the idea of pulling it out to save your flesh from tearing more (or to bring death faster).

You knew you had to get back to Tiber Island, but you were sure that you’d draw too much unwanted attention to yourself if you took the main roads, and would almost certainly collapse without a horse. You rested your head against the bricks, willing an idea to pop into your clouded brain.

Small thuds beside you caught your attention, and you turned your head to see a group of thieves land next you. One of them, who was probably the one in charge, pulled your hood off your head, taking in your features; pale, sweaty, barely conscious. “It’s Y/N!” He exclaimed. His eyes turned to the others. “Riccardo, get Ezio. Tell him that we’re bringing him to La Volpe Addormentata. Sbrigatevi!” One of the leanest nodded his head and took off running down the alleys. “Ora,” he spoke softer now. “Aiutami con lui.”

Two of them grabbed your arms and lifted you to your unsteady feet. The movement stretched your side. “Agh!” Your legs buckled, and your sudden dead weight pulled everyone to their knees.

“Mio Dio,” the leader uttered. “You! Get a horse!” You heard as feet thundered against cobblestones. “Y/N, you must move.” You looked at him in anguish; he seemed twice your age, and had a fatherly look of trust in his eye.

“Non posso…” The crimson had spread from your waist and was not being absorbed by the fabric anymore, dripping onto the ground.

“Yes, you can; just to the main street.” You could vaguely hear horses in front of you at the end of the alley.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before you nodded weakly, head hanging low. Step by step, you were half dragged to the mouth of the alleyway. Someone was already mounted on the horse as you were being hoisted in the saddle. It was a mercenary, much bigger than you, and you held on tight to the saddle with one hand as you were sent off galloping down the street, a small entourage following you. With every bump in the saddle, an ache pounded in your head; you were having trouble keeping awake, but the harsh movements wouldn’t let you go under.

You weren’t very aware of your surroundings when the horse came to a stop. Sitting firm, you waited for the mercenary behind you to dismount, and you attempted to follow suit. Tripping in the stirrups, the impact of the floor sent your mind reeling, your foot getting trapped in the metal. Pain radiated through your body as you fell on the protruding arrow shaft. Groaning, you weakly pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, dazed and confused. “Andiamo, ragazzo.” Multiple hands heaved you off of the dirt ridden paths, hauling you up the stairs and into the Thieves’ Headquarters.

“La Volpe!” The hooded man revealed himself by the entrance.

His eyes assessed the situation in a second. “Bring him into the back.” People parted quickly to make space for you all to make it through. “Put him on the table.” You were turned to sit down, before slowly being lowered to lie against the wood.

Finally being out of the streets and safe in your surroundings, you allowed yourself to relax, to close your eyes, to maybe spend a few moments asleep…

“Y/N.” Someone patting your cheek got your eyes to reluctantly open. “Leonardo and Ezio are here.”

Leonardo?

You swallowed thickly, not having the energy to respond other than letting your head roll to the side. As they came in, you could half-make out what they were saying. “Those doctors… will be of no use to us… I know my way around a wound.” It was Leonardo, rambling on as he was gathering the relevant supplies.

You blinked, and Ezio towered above you. “Ah, amico mio, mi dispiace tanto.”

Before you could respond, a hand twisted the embedded arrow shaft. You threw your head back as you cried out, hands flying to the culprit’s hand.

“Leonardo!” Ezio chastised.

“I needed to know if it was stuck in the bone!” He quickly justified his actions, hands raising in surrender. “Take his armour off.”

Quickly, your upper robes were discarded, leaving your chest bare and your injury exposed. You heard the movement of metal tools before you felt something cold touch your skin. Looking down, you saw a small blade that touched the edge of the arrow wound. You grasped Leonardo’s wrist. “No, please…” Pain was hitting every nerve and muscle, and you desperately wished you were unconscious, but the fact that you weren’t meant you were going to feel everything, and at this point, you wanted to feel nothing.

Leonardo looked at Ezio and La Volpe. “Hold him down.”

Ezio grasped your hand with one of his before using his other one to put weight on your elbow, effectively pinning you to the table. La Volpe followed suit. “I don’t like this, Leonardo,” Ezio said, looking nervous.

The artist looked up seriously. “You don’t have to.”

You felt the blade sink into your skin. The lower half of your body was numb, but your back tried to arch at the intrusion; an attempt to get away. You were hyper aware of his fingers moving inside your flesh, poking at the metal inside you. “This type of arrow does not do too much damage, but it has hooked onto an organ.” Although Leonardo’s voice was calm, you couldn’t help but writhe. You could feel everything the arrow (and Leonardo) touched, finally managing to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, after what felt like hours of pain.

You were too tired.

You heard Leonardo bracing you for removing the arrow, but you were completely limp in Ezio and La Volpe’s grasp. You swallowed again, eyes rolling back. Your face scrunched weakly as you winced; the arrow finally relinquishing its position, too tired to scream and shout. Stifling a groan, you slightly jumped when the pressure of a fabric was being applied in place of Leonardo’s fingers. The last thing you heard before your vision blacked out was, “We’re not done yet.”

----------

There were three instances where you briefly came to since then. The first was as your wound was being bandaged. “What are his chances?” Ezio’s voice echoed in your ear.

“Of survival?” Your eyes barely opened for a second to lock with Leonardo’s. “Small.” Although his face was comforting, his words weren’t. All too quickly, you lost consciousness again.

The second time, you could feel your body moving as you were taken off the table and onto something soft but sturdy. Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened to see Leonardo washing his hands in a basin. “Con attenzione, ora!” You felt your arm fall off the side of the platform you were being moved on. The rocking lulled you back into darkness.

You didn’t remember these instances.

The third and final time you came to, you had a hard time opening your eyes. It felt as if they had been sealed shut. An involuntary hum grew in your throat as you brought your arm up to rub your eyes. Even that simple movement left you aching for reasons you couldn’t remember yet. You brought your hand away as you opened your eyes. Looking around, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t your bed, or your room…

Pushing yourself up, you stopped abruptly, lowering yourself back down and wincing as a searing pain spread across your side. Your hand immediately went to the source, where your fingers ran across rough fabric. Looking down, you saw that your chest was still bare, although half of your torso was covered in white bandages. Looking around, you found your robes hanging up against a wardrobe across the room, clean and repaired. Your boots were at the foot of the bed.

Trying again, you slowly sat up again, pulling the sheet off of your legs. You bent down agonisingly slowly, one arm against your side while the other grabbed your footwear. After you pulled them both on, you began lacing them up. It was at that point when the door opened.

Looking up, you saw Ezio staring at you, surprised. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting up.”

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough. How many days has it been?”

Ezio didn’t reply at first.

“Ezio; how many days?”

“Five.”

“That’s more than enough.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet, only for your knees to buckle and send you back down to the floor, the impact of which reverberated up to your side. You grasped the bedpost for support as your breath hitched. Footsteps approached your kneeling form, but you held your hand up to stop them. “I’m fine,” you spoke through gritted teeth. Hauling yourself back up again, you leaned heavily against the wall, your legs not used to walking after five days of disuse.

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ezio respected your need for space for a few moments, but soon moved to pull your arm over his shoulders when he saw you begin to struggle.

“... Can you take me downstairs, at least?”

He sighed, thinking out the pros and cons. “Fine. Come.”

Tentatively, you tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any jarring movements. Ezio held you securely to prevent you from falling, should you do so again. The sounds of people eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves filled your ears, and your eyes landed on a table with La Volpe -- standing up with one knee propped up against the bench -- Leonardo, and a few other thieves (all sitting properly). They seemed to be in deep conversation, but as La Volpe looked up and moved his attention to you, everyone else followed his gaze, smiles poking at their lips.

“Y/N! You’re awake, and… moving.” Leonardo shot Ezio a disapproving look.

“I asked him to take me here.” You motioned to sit down at the table, and Ezio helped to lower you to the bench. Steadying yourself against the table, you brought a hand up to your side as your wound twinged.

“You’re just in time for me to change your dressings.” Leonardo got up to fetch new bandages as Ezio took his place beside you.

La Volpe sat down properly. “Y/N, what happened?”

You recounted the story in detail as Leonardo worked on your side, slightly embarrassed at your inability to stay alert that night. “It was my mistake,” you finished, wincing as the bandages were pulled tight. “I should have stayed out of sight.”

“He shouldn’t have even been there,” Ezio quipped, closing one hand over a fist. “We almost lost one of our best students.”

You smirked. “I’m flattered.”

Leonardo coughed to hide his chuckle, sitting on the other side of you. “Here.” He passed you a loose shirt and a drink; you thanked him and slowly dressed, being careful not to stretch your side. Taking a sip turned into gulping down mouthfuls of the liquid, parched from not drinking for days.

“If he was one of your best students, then why did we almost lose him?” La Volpe was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Because that mission was not supposed to be for him!”

“Remember who assigned him that mission, Ezio. Your anger is misplaced.” Ezio looked between the faces at the table, huffed, and got up, heading for the backroom.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll, uh, go and talk to him.” You got up slowly, holding your side, and followed where Ezio disappeared to.

You peered around the corner to see him leaning on the table, his knuckles pressing into the bloodstained wood. After a few moments of standing still, he cursed himself under his breath, punching the table beneath his hand. He walked to the other side of the table, folding his arms and leaning against it as he fell deep into thought.

You decided to knock against the wall, then. Ezio turned his head to see who it was, before smiling softly and staring back at the wall. You went to lean on the table beside him, staring at the chalkboard propped up against the barrels. “You’re blaming yourself, Ezio.” You called him out on it before he could say anything, prompting an amused scoff on his part.

“I should have pulled you out of the contract.”

You looked at him, but he still stared at the wall, seemingly too ashamed to look at you. “Why? You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I knew it would challenge you, but I underestimated just how dangerous it would be.”

“You know Mario wouldn’t have accepted that.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking down to his boots. “I should have tried.”

“Look at me, Ezio.” His eyes moved to yours, but his head barely shifted. “I’m alive; I’m alright.”

“We’ll see.”

You squinted. “What do you mean?”

“Leonardo told me you have a bad case of idiozia, and he is not sure if it can be cured.”

You laughed, looking away. “No, me either.”

“I know something which could help, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what he would say before a force came into contact with the back of your head. “Ow! Bastardo…” Ezio laughed.

“Let’s rejoin the others.”

----------

Translations:

Mi amico = My friend

Personalmente = Personally

Ora, un altro? = Now, another?

Assassino! = Assassin!

La Volpe Addormentata = The Sleeping Fox

Sbrigatevi! = Hurry up!

Ora, aiutami con lui = Help me with him

Mio Dio = My God

Non posso = I can’t

Andiamo, ragazzo = Come, boy

Amico mio, mi dispiace tanto = My friend, I am so sorry

Con attenzione, ora = Carefully now!

Idiozia = Idiocy

Bastardo = Bastard

#ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore oneshot #ezio auditore imagine #assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #x reader #assassin’s creed x m!reader #ezio auditore x m!reader #assassin's creed oneshot #assassin's creed imagine

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scarletwillowtree · 4 years ago

Text

The Soldier and The Artist ch 5 (soulmate AU)

Pairing: Bucky x artist!reader

Warning: Some swearing, OFC best friend being a southern windstorm with no filter (based on my actual best friend!)

Word Count: 2,046

Summary: In a world where your soulmates first words show up on your skin once you meet, it’s not entirely common to actually meet the one you’re destined to be with. Though you’ve always held out hope, you never believed you would meet them, especially after you got your words but haven’t seen the man since. Now, working closely with The Avengers for a project Tony Stark himself requested you for, you’re closer to your soulmate than you ever expected.

A/N: Here it is guys, gals, and nb pals! The final chapter in The Soldier and The Artist. The epilogue will be following hopefully tonight just so y’all don’t have to wait forever! Working full time, going to college, and being a single parent doesn’t leave mass amounts of time for hobbies, so I can’t promise any update schedule, but my Steve x goddess!reader will be starting later this week. Thank you all for coming with me on this journey, as this was my very first fic and I’m so happy with how it’s been received! No more delaying, the finale begins!

masterlist

Two days into your extended vacation time with the team and you had received yet another surprise. Much to your delight, this time it came in the form of your tiny tornado of a best friend deciding to visit you in New York. She had intended to fully surprise you by busting into your room, however FRIDAY had instead woken you up with an alert that someone rather feisty was in the lobby claiming to be your family.

Upon entering the lobby, you let out a soft laugh. Seeing your barely 5’2” best friend trying to intimidate one Happy Hogan was honestly a wonderful start to your day. After watching quietly from the elevator for another few moments, you finally stepped forward and cleared your throat. Hannah’s whole disposition changed, from looking ready to rip out Happy’s throat to sugar coated wide smiles in less than half a second.

“It’s okay Happy, unfortunately this ball of hate actually is basically my family.”

He gave a sigh before shaking his head as he walked off, and you could almost swear you heard him mutter something about not getting paid enough. You smiled wide as you and Hannah embraced, the small sense of homesickness that had begun creeping up on you the last few days quickly flowing away as you did so.

“What are you even doing here?”

Hannah’s smile turned mischievous grin as she grabbed her bag.

“Well, you remember how we had discussing opening a second location? With the very generous pay from this project and recent events, why not here? In New York I mean.”

You stare at Hannah for a moment, your jaw slack and eyes wide, before you begin floundering for your response.

“Well- I mean- I didn’t- I did say that, but I had been thinking a second place in DC! That- This is insane! Who would even run it?”

Hannah stared at you blankly as you two finally walked into the elevator that immediately began its ascent.

“You would, Y/N. Before you even start with all that typical ‘but my life is there not here’ bullshit, we both know the only things waiting for you back in DC are me and the studio. Opening a New York location would allow us to reach a larger clientele with it basically being a crossroads of the world with JFK here. Your future is here, whether you’re ready to admit it or not. I have bookings next week for us to begin looking at studios so you better grasp that fact fast!”

You smiled down at your friend, a warmth blossoming through your chest as her words really sunk in. You knew you didn’t want to leave, not with just having found Bucky, and the fact that even your closest friend could see that and was pushing you to be selfish for once made the choice easier to accept.

“You really should start breathing in the middle of your rants, someone your size could easily get oxygen deprivation at that rate.”

Hannah glared at you for a moment before the two of you burst into full on laughter.

This was about to get real fun.

***

After a quick stop in Tony’s lab for introductions and getting permission for Hannah to stay in the compound during her trip, the two of you found yourselves in a spare room in the same wing you had been staying in. The two of you were dancing around to the music you’d had FRIDAY play through the speakers, slowly unpacking Hannah’s bag, when a knock accompanied by two quiet laughs overlapping came from the doorway. You both turned, slowing to a stop mid dance, to see a pair of super soldiers standing there.

“Well you’re built like a brick shit house, ain’t ya?”

You felt your eyes widen at your friends lack of filter before you doubled over in laughter, barely registering Bucky’s own laugh mingling with yours. You definitely didn’t need to see Steve’s face to know he was already turning a violent shade of red as he attempted to string together a sentence in reply.

“Nice to meet you too? I think?”

You and Bucky finally managed to calm your laughter, taking deep breaths and still wearing a smile, you finally introduced the pair to the closest thing you had to family nowadays. After a brief conversation, the four of you all agreed to have a movie night with take out to celebrate her arrival.

As the group left the room, you felt a soft smile stretch your lips as you watched the three ahead of you. It was then that you made the decision to wait to tell Bucky you were staying until you were going to look at studios in the city. You’d have plenty of time together once you had fully moved, for now it didn’t seem like an issue that needed addressing.

***

As the night wore on, you and Bucky had begun making little faces at each other, noticing just how close your best friends were becoming. He nodded to the kitchen and you winked back with a minute nod of your head.

“I’m gonna grab some more popcorn and drinks for everyone, wanna help me Buck?”

You stood and moved toward the kitchen behind the sofas without even waiting for a response, dumping the kernels from the nearly empty popcorn bowl that had been in your lap into the trash. Bucky soon followed, moving to the fridge to grab several cans of soda, setting them on the counter next to the microwave just as you started the bag of popcorn you tossed in. You looked to Bucky to see a loving warmth coming from the depths of his steely blue eyes. As if pulled by a magnet, you stepped forward, feeling your arms wrap around his waist instinctively. His arms wound around you as you buried your face in his chest, before he began whispering to you.

“Seems like maybe we’re not the only pair that came from Stark’s idea. I never woulda thought Steve could handle a spitfire like her though.”

You giggled softly into the warmth of his chest before you both broke away, startled by the loud squeal coming from the theater area you had just left. Moving quickly, you both sprinted into the room to find Steve and Hannah staring at each other in awe, Steve’s forearm now in full view as one of the sleeves had been pushed up to reveal what was apparently the first words your friend had spoken to the soldier.

You heaved a sigh of relief, Bucky doing the same, before you leaned into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around you before he leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to give them some alone time together. With a quick nod, Bucky smiled and began guiding you from the room before calling out behind him.

“Have fun you crazy kids!”

You could hear Hannah and Steve laughing softly as Bucky continued to guide you down the hall and towards one of the elevators. While waiting for it to reach you, you separated from Bucky’s side and leaned against the wall next to it, smiling at the man in front of you. For the last few weeks, the tension between you had been building as you danced around sharing even your first kiss together. You were generally very patient, but even now your mind wandered away as you imagined feeling his lips pressing against yours.

“Whatcha looking at me like that for, doll?”

Bucky inched closer to you, placing his hands on your hips, firm enough that you felt secure, but gentle enough that if you moved he wouldn’t be trapping you where you stood. You leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, just on the corner of his mouth.

“Just admiring the view, soldier.”

The playful smirk that took over Bucky’s face immediately had you understanding why he drew in all the ladies back in his day. Your heart fluttered and began pounding so loudly in your chest you were surprised he couldn’t hear it with how close he was. He leaned down, slowly inching toward your lips, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted, before the loud ding of the elevator arriving caused him to pull away. He placed a gentle and lingering kiss to your forehead before taking your hand and pulling you into the elevator with him.

“So Barnes, where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere special doll. Do you trust me?”

You nodded without hesitation, giggling lightly when he covered your eyes before you heard the click of a button being pushed and the elevator began moving upwards.

“No peeking.”

***

Once the elevator had stopped, Bucky kept his hands firmly in place as he guided you out and down several hallways. After what felt like forever, you were hit with a wave of heat and the scents of fresh earth and foliage, and you could swear you heard running water faintly.

Bucky finally moved his hands and what surrounded you nearly took your breath away. You found yourself standing just inside what appeared to be a massive greenhouse, filled to the brim with various flowers, herbs, all manner of vegetables and even a few fruit trees lined the edges of the glass structure. There was indeed a natural style fountain hidden away in a corner, a small pond as the base.

Since the night had come on during the movies, when the two of you sat down on a bench near the pond you could see the glittering stars through the glass of the roof above you. A smile had found its way to your face and didn’t want to leave.

“It’s beautiful.” You whispered softly, trying not to disturb the peace.

“Yes, it is.”

Bucky’s hand found your chin, pulling your face to his as your cheeks flamed to life as you realized he’d been watching you instead of the stars. You couldn’t bring yourself to comment on how cheesy he was being as he leaned in, once again giving you plenty of time to pull away. You leaned forward instead, determined to finally closing the gap that had lingered between the two of you since he had returned from that mission weeks ago.

The feeling of his lips on yours set your skin alight, the soft skin of his lips molding perfectly to your own contrasting with the rough yet gentle scratching of his stubble against your face as the kiss quickly deepened. Now you could understand what people meant when they saw fireworks when kissing their soulmate, only it felt like they were going off in your very veins. You both buried yourself in the high intensity passion of the kiss, pouring all of your feelings into this one moment, until neither of you could breathe any longer. You separated but placed your foreheads together to remain close as you both gulped down the much needed air.

Once his breath had gotten closer to normal, Bucky only had one word for you. A single word that was both a question and a demand, a request from the lips of some desperately in love already.

“Stay.”

Your smile grew as you pulled back, staring into those ocean deep baby blues. You could see the sincerity of what he knew he was asking you to do. His eyes were filled with a little fear, but mostly hope. Hope and love. You kissed his nose before looking into his eyes again.

“I already planned to Bucky. Hannah is here to help with choosing where our New York studio will be. I just got you, I’m not going anywhere soldier.”

The hope in his eyes flared into a joyous flame that carried through him. A laugh of pure exhilaration burst out of him as he stood with his arms still around your waist, spinning you around as he whooped in joy. His laughter was infectious as you soon began to giggle as well.

“Oh doll, I can’t wait for our forever to begin!”

He pressed his lips to yours once more and you immediately melted into his embrace.

Forever has already started, as long as this artist has her soldier.

***

epilogue >

tag list: @aireka-frnc @katgirl05 @beep-beep-quarterfool @ladifreakingda @huffleasfluff @thequirkypeach @courtmr @doublephoeenix @38leticia @gennyld @londelle @loving-life-my-way @lostnnot2befound @catsandbooksinafarawayplace @just-a-little-bit-of-everything @aurorawitchcraft @buttercup337 @theseulehurricane @thejourneyneverendsx @tommyhoe @milady-mira @lyricalstella @cutiepiemimi13 @unknownuserhasjoined @rinthehufflepuff

strikethrough means the tag doesn’t work

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x soulmate!reader #bucky x soulmate #soulmate au avengers #soulmate au #soulmarks

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keanuvibe · 5 years ago

Text

Professor Reeves (Keanu Reeves x Reader)

A/N: Okay, here it is. The full continuation of the teaser i posted earlier this week :) I'm v excited about this okee. Thank u @keanusreefs for inspiring me, ily<3

Words: 7.0K

Warnings: Swears, Age-gap, SMUT ;), teacher/student (does that need a tag?)

Disclaimer: all characters, places, and people are of my own imagination save for Keanu :) thank you for reading <3

The bell ringing overhead signaled the end of class and the shuffle of students erupted throughout the quiet room. The mild anxiety that came with first day nerves began infecting your veins again, and you took a deep breath standing up. You gave the teacher a nod on the way out, beginning the trek to your final class of the day.

You are a freshman in college, a newbie. However, the catch is: you’re twenty-eight. You started late, leaving highschool with big aspirations didn't turn out like you’d hoped. Being into movies and film since you were a young child, you decided a career in acting was your best option to maybe, eventually, move up in the ranks and get famous. Shortly after high school graduation, you moved to New York and began starring in small plays. Each night you hoped a scout would enter the audience and give you the break you were looking for, but over the years nothing happened. During the day you worked as a bank teller, having started after running out of money. The job was great, and you ended up staying at that location for six years before it got robbed.

You ended up moving back to your home state and with your parents at twenty-six. You were kind of a deadbeat for two years before your parents urged you to take a couple ‘fun’ classes at the local community college; mentioning how the school had a wonderful drama program. Having nothing better to do, you took out a small student loan, got a part-time job as a waitress, and enrolled at Tulip Ridge Community College focusing on Theater and Acting. You chose a few small art classes to fill the first few hours of the day, and a required English course as well, leaving your last class of the day to be Drama.

Luckily, the theater department wasn’t far from English, being that it is the class prior. You made it to the Drama room placed in a large room just off the hallway from the auditorium, greeting a hustle of students. The ages ranged, but for the most part it looked to be teens fresh from highschool. You scanned the room, greeting the over decorated space. Props from previous shows, you assumed at least, littered the painted white brick walls leaving barely any white to show. Long tables with cheap plastic school chairs sat in the middle of the room, parallel to a large prop presidential stand. On the wall behind the stand was the whiteboards with a projector screen pulled down covering the center. You assumed that was where the teacher stood. You didn’t even know their name.

In the back of the room stood a mock carpeted stage. It was most likely the place they either used to practice plays when the auditorium was occupied or sat an audience in when they did more intimate shows with a smaller crowd, like a dine-in show. You did plenty of those with your theater company in New York.

Picking a table that was empty, you quickly hustled to it before anyone else could and sat down in a corner seat. As a couple minutes passed, more rowdy theater kids had filled the room; greeting the others from their summer breaks. Most of the crowd seemed young, however the wonderful thing about community college is there's always going to be older people.

“Hi, I’m June.” A high-pitched tone spoke, catching your attention. Turning your head, you noticed a lady had taken the seat next to your own. She looked older, maybe early thirties. She donned long brunette hair and was dressed as though it was the year 1984.

“Oh, uh, Hi.” You smiled back, holding your hand out to shake instinctively, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She smiled wide. “Not to pry, but, I haven’t seen you at Tulip Ridge before, are you new?” June seemed like a preppy type, but very vintage.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a freshman.” You responded with a slight chuckle.

“Oh, well, welcome!” The woman responded, cheer evident in her tone. You were about to respond and ask her a few questions, however you were interrupted before you began.

“Good afternoon class, I’m Professor Reeves.” The humble, deep voice of the teacher startled you and you quickly glanced in his direction. Eyes widening, you greeted the sight of the delicious man. He was tall, towering over the presidential podium prop he stood behind. His hair was long and disheveled framing his face perfectly. He donned a dark brown tweed jacket with a soft green button up underneath, however, and unfortunately, you couldn’t see the bottom half.

“Welcome back, how were your breaks?” He asked, looking around the room. Students that seemed to know the man chimed back with colorful answers, prompting the man to laugh. You looked over to June who seemed engaged and intrigued by whatever the man was doing. So, is Professor Reeves the hot teacher of Tulip Ridge? What makes it even worse is he’s the Drama teacher. You’ve always had a weakness for theater boys; probably just the inner thespian in you. You had a few boyfriends back in New York, however their ego’s always tended to get the best of them and you’d have to break things off.

“I see a few new faces in the crowd this year, let’s see,” Professor Reeves’ dark eyes scanned the class once again; eyes connecting with your own. You felt a chill run down your spine as the swarm of dormant butterflies in your tummy rushed to life.

“What’s your name, breaktaking?” You felt your stomach drop as the teacher gestured towards you. A nervous snort escaped your throat and you felt your cheeks gain heat like a house on fire. You could perform in front of hundreds of people; yet the single attention of this one man was eating you alive.

“it’s- it’s (Y/N).” You nervously chuckled in response. The eyes of your classmates didn’t help the heat retaining in your cheeks. June gently patting your back snapped you back to reality and you looked in her direction. She gave you a reassuring nod, humoring the teacher still.

“And what compelled you to pursue acting, (Y/N).” Your name rolling off of Professor Reeves’ tongue made the butterflies excite even more and you cleared your throat in an attempt to brush off some embarrassment.

“Um, well, I’m not exactly new to acting and drama. I’ve been doing this medium since I was seven. After highschool I even performed in New York for a bit, but um, just small shows.” You answered with a shrug, keeping focused on the teacher. The stares from the other students were burning into your skull, but you ignored them.

“So, what’re you doing at Tulip Ridge then?” The teacher pushed, his dark eyes gleaming into your own. He leaned forwards on the podium a little, his attention still burning at you. You sat up in your seat slightly, not really wanting to admit to a room full of strangers that you feel like a loser and deadbeat and are only here because your parents convinced you.

“Well, I-” You paused, “I want to further my education, that’s reason enough. Plus, there’s no better place to start than community college.” Typical answer, but it hides the truth enough, you guess. Professor Reeves’ stare indicated he knew you were hiding something. You kept eye contact long enough before another student spoke up breaking the stare.

The abrupt bell ringing interrupted the movie that was playing on the projector screen. The class erupted as everyone began to gather their things and shuffle out for the day. Shortly after all the new and old students had been introduced, the Professor had quickly jumped into the curriculum for the semester. He went over the syllabus as well as the first project you’d be doing in the class; which is to perform a quick, no longer than three minute, scene from your movie of choice. It has to consist of at least two characters and be school appropriate, obviously. Of course you and your new table mate decided to partner up for the project with high hopes of good scores.

Speaking of the enthusiastic woman, you and June had talked throughout class slowly learning about the other. You discovered that she is thirty-one, works part-time in a bakery and has a four year old son. She isn’t married, but her and her son’s father are on good co-parenting terms. She’s been going to Tulip Ridge for one year now, making this her final year before she moves on to a four year college. She decided to go back to school after her and her son’s father split, leaving her with half an income but a full child to feed.

“Where are you headed after this?” June asked, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and grabbing her backpack.

“Back home, I’m sure my mom will want me to do some chores for her. I’ll research a scene for us and send you a link, as well. How about you?” You smiled at the woman. Being only a couple years younger than June felt nice, as most of your class as previously mentioned is overenthusiastic teenagers.

“You have got to move out, Sugar.” June laughed with a shake of her head. “I’m going to pick up my kid from daycare and spend a few hours with him before work tonight.” You could tell the woman loved her child a lot. Her voice and demeanor always softened at the mention of him. It almost made you feel the rush to be a mother; but you’re still young.

“Trust me, I know.” You responded with a chuckle. Shortly after, June said her goodbyes and excused herself. As she exited with the main crowd, only a few stragglers remained including you. You scanned the room, greeting the sight of Professor Reeves standing by the door saying his goodbyes to the students. You scanned him up and down now, actually being able to see his bottom half.

He was attractive, there was no doubt about that. The man was goofy too, as you’d expect a Drama teacher to act. During class you asked June if she knew anything about him and she actually gave you a quick rundown. Apparently he used to be a famous Hollywood star back in the mid-eighties to nineties. He did quite a few indie films, and one or two blockbusters. He fell off the radar in the year two-thousand after his wife died; resurfacing as a teacher in your rinky-dink hometown seven years later. The catch is, nobody knows his real name; at least locally. He keeps it hidden, only going by as Professor Reeves or Mr. Reeves. The fact you’d never heard of him kind of shocked you, but it really seemed like the fame world had moved on from your teacher. Students somewhat reacted to him, if they were film buffs, but otherwise he seemed like he lived a quiet life.

Your teacher's eyesight meeting your own caused you to stop staring finally. As a hot blush covered your cheeks once again, you quickly focused back down onto your backpack acting as though you were doing things. The room now sounded mostly quiet, and the pad of the Professors shoes echoed louder to your person.

“Miss (Y/N).” The deepness of his voice gave your spine a chill. You shyly looked up, greeting your teacher. Up close he was stunning. Gorgeous dark hair framed his face and dark full eyebrows covered his fierce brown eyes. You, however, were loving his salt and pepper speckled beard.

“Professor Reeves.” You greeted back, swallowing the intimidation. The man towered over your smaller frame, you couldn’t help but want to climb him like a tree (it’s been seven months since you last got laid. Things have gotten heated).

“It’s always refreshing to see new students.” He gave you a small grin. “You said you’ve done shows in New York? What’re you doing back here, superstar?” The man joked. The familiar hot feeling flooded your cheeks and you released a nervous chuckle, quickly casting your eyes to your shoes.

“Well- Like I said earlier: to further my education.” You managed, gathering the courage to make eye contact again. “I could ask you the same. You were a blockbuster star.” When your eyes met, butterflies erupt in your stomach again. What was it about this man that made you so horny and shy at the same time. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was saying touche.

“Well, I’d love to see your work some time.” The deep tone in his voice gave you another shiver down your spine as you kept the eye contact.

“I’d love to see yours. And, uh, then I’ll see if I have a copy somewhere. I did Phantom back in New York. Well, I was ensemble, but…” You trailed off, chuckling to cover the nervous feeling.

“Ensemble is the backbone of theater, darling.” Professor Reeves’ hand gently tapped your arm after his comment. You felt the shock of his touch and immediately made eye contact as you did so. The man must’ve felt the same, as his eyes shot to yours as well.

“I-I’d better get going.” You spoke so quietly, quickly shuffling past your teacher. However, you felt his hand linger as you pulled away. You felt as each individual finger dragged against your body before you were out of reach. That’s definitely going to help some tension releasing activities tonight.

It’s been three weeks since the first day and college isn’t too bad, you’ve come to discover. Befriending June was a good option, as you two easily got along being similar in age. You even met her son the other day after school. Plus, your classes are simple too; only taking Art and English credits was a smart decision. Drama had quickly taken place as your favorite class, however. Acting was fun, but your Professor also had taken part in your sway on the choice.

“Alright, we’re going to be doing the quick-minute scenes today, I hope you all came prepared.” The drama teacher's voice settled the rowdy crowd of students as he walked into the room. June slunk back into the chair next to you and you glanced towards the woman. She didn’t have as much performance history as you, she’d mentioned at one of your practices that she was nervous for today. You leaned over and gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder.

“Run over the lines again, it’s gonna be great.” You smiled gently. The woman pulled out the sheet you’d been using to run lines and you saw as she began to mouth the words.

Looking back towards the front of the room, you caught your teacher's eyes. He stood up by the podium, a student clearly trying to converse with him although his eyes seemed fixated towards you. Realizing you were staring in return, he quickly turned his attention back towards the student, consciously adjusting the way he was standing. You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing the smile that dared to take over and quickly cast your eyes towards the desk again.

The professor quickly got the class into order, quieting everybody down. He stood behind the stand, now facing everybody as they adjusted into their seats. The man shuffled a few papers around before looking back up and tucking some hair behind his ear. You sighed quietly, slinking further into your chair and crossing your legs. Your crush was only getting worse.

“So, before I start calling names, who’d like to present first.” Professor Reeves made a point to look directly at you. You raised your brow, shaking your head ‘No’ slowly. June would die if you two went first anyways. His eyes then moved on, looking at the other groups of students before he clicked his teeth and shrugged, choosing one of the fresh-from-highschool kids.

The kid sighed loudly, tapping his partner on the shoulder and standing up. Professor Reeves pushed the podium out of the way and to the side so the students could stand front and center.The two of them introduced themselves as Travis and Mike before jumping into it. As they started, you easily recognized the scene to be from the third Lord of The Rings installment, when Gandalf gives Pippin the speech about death.

June’s phone sitting on your table vibrated and she quickly picked it up to avoid any more distraction. You glanced over to her, watching her read the text and her expression turn more sour with each word. Furrowing your brow, you scooted your chair closer and quietly whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

The woman didn’t answer right away, instead you could see as her eyes reread the text before she finally seemed to snap to reality.

“M-My son got into trouble at daycare- I need to go. I can’t perform our presentation today.” She seemed annoyed by this but started to collect her things. I guess it was the last class of the day anyways, and you’re sure you can convince Professor Reeves to extend your scene to tomorrow.

“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out, go.” You gave her a reassuring nod and she smiled back. After gathering her things and waiting for the current group to finish, she stood up and quietly made her way to your teacher, asking to be excused. The man seemed to comply as she thanked him and quickly turned to leave, giving you a small wave and smile on the way out the door. You let your smile linger before a quiet sigh escaped.

Class proceeded normally. A few groups went before the Professor ended up calling your name. He clearly saw your partner leave, so what is he planning?

“(Y/N), why don’t you give your presentation?” His deep voice always had some sway over you. But you resisted, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Uh, my partner had an emergency and left.” You spoke, furrowing your brow. Your teacher nodded, acting as though it was new information in front of the class before he looked back at you.

“Well, maybe I can be your partner today. What were you going to perform?” The coy expression that covered his face said all it needed to. You felt the mock anger that covered the romantic feelings you felt made itself present and you let out a sigh before answering.

“Alright, well, we were going to perform an excerpt from ‘Moulin Rouge’, um, right before they burst into ‘Silly Love Songs’. I have a copy of our lines if you want.” As you spoke, you’d already gathered your copy of the sheet and made your way to the front. Ignoring the stares of your classmates was the best way to deal with your nerves, even though their eyes were burning into you like you were a demon and they were holy water. You were about to perform with your teacher, and that needed all of your focus currently. Handing over the sheet, your fingers brushed and an electric feeling coursed through your body starting from your fingertips. It gave a jolt to your heart, stuttering your breath for a moment.

“Um, June was a bit scared to do the minor singing part, so I’ll be playing Christian and you’ll be Satine.” You spoke, first looking towards the Profesor then glancing across the class. A few muttered laughs came from the immature minds humoring at the gender switch. The man let out a low chuckle himself but nodded, holding up the sheet so he could read the lines.

“Christian, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe.” Your teacher began, his eyes cast between your reaction and the paper. You quickly got into character, prepared to react.

“Yes. Silly of me, to think y-you could fall in love with someone like me.” You spoke with a sigh, feigning to be sad.

“I can’t fall in love with anyone.” The man responded with a sad chuckle, stepping closer towards your figure. You felt your heartbeat raise slightly.

“Can’t fall in love? But a life without love… That’s terrible!” You lightly exclaimed, leaning into the character more. You and June chose the movie having seen it as young girls and loving the romance of it all. Of course you ended up doing a romantic scene with Professor Reeves.

“No!” The man reacted, “Being on the street, that’s terrible.” His tone suggested he was getting defensive just as Nicole Kidman did playing the line.

“No, love is like oxygen!” You reacted again, stepping towards the man. As you got further into the scene, your nerves began melting away. The second hand feeling that came when you did act was starting to kick in. It's been a while since you last did a show, since you left New York two years ago.

“What?” He spoke, furrowing his brow. You started pacing towards him more.

“Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!” By now, you were in his face, arms spread with determination; just like you’d practiced with June.

“Please, don’t start that again.” Professor Reeves sighed, his hand placing itself on your shoulder and lightly pushing away.

“All you need is love,” You began singing softly, leaning closer to him.

“A girl has got to eat!” He exclaimed, taking a step away.

“All you need is love,” You sang again, a smile overtaking your face. Your teacher stepped back, turning away from you, really leaning into the character. You assumed he’s seen this move before by how well he was acting.

“She’ll end up on the street!” He spoke again, turning to face you again. You got up close again, capturing his hand into your own, your faces positioning closer than they should be.

“All you need is love…” You sang softly to finish off your lines, eyes connecting with your teachers. You hadn't noticed the slight wrinkle around them until now, and couldn't help the endearment that rushed your body.

“Love is just a game.” The professor didn’t sing the part like in the movie; instead he spoke it, but the emotion that line carried still was present. You were getting swept away in the intensity of the scene. His dark brown eyes stared back into your own, hinting his own feelings of lust and want. The sound of someone's chair scraping brought you back to reality and you quickly stepped away to a normal distance. Clearing your throat, you turned towards your classmates and took a quick bow before making your way back towards your table. The burning stare of your teacher's eyes into your back definitely didn’t help.

“Good job (Y/N). I’ll go ahead and give June the credit too.” Professor Reeves spoke as soon as you sat down after the class had finished clapping. You nodded towards him, trying to catch your breath from the whole situation. You wish June were here to witness that, though. She wouldn’t believe it, and to be honest, you could barely believe it either.

The library was surprisingly empty for prime studying hours, then again, it is a Friday afternoon. Most students are probably drunk right now, pregaming for the weekend, anyways. You, however, decided to study for some test in English at the library instead of going home. You didn’t really want to deal with your parents anyways. Ever since you started school, they’ve been more helicopter-y and won’t leave you alone when you’re home. They want to know everything and it’s exhausting. You honestly miss living alone. Your parents are treating you like you’re in high school again, over eleven years ago. No matter, it was nice to escape the insanity with the quiet, always warm because of the broken heater, library.

Plus, the escapism helps with distracting your brain from a certain someone. Ever since your presentation in Drama with Professor Reeves about three and a half weeks ago, you’ve been kind of avoiding him. That happening did nothing to help your crush, in fact it only made it worse. He is so handsome and you just can’t help it. His dark, lengthy hair that he often tucked behind his ear; His dark, fierce and sultry eyes that lured you in every time you caught stares. You, without a doubt, are smitten for a man whose not only an authority-ish figure in your life, but twice your age.

The acting exercises you did in class were not helpful either. You noticed he’d minorly started favoring you to play roles. Of course the students hadn’t caught on yet because he hid his favoritism so well, but you just went along with it. Secretly, you kind of wanted to see how this would play out. It’s been nearly two months since the semester started, and the spark you seemed to have acquired hasn’t fizzled.

“Miss (Y/N)? Not partying?” Professor Reeves spoke behind you. Jumping slightly, you sat up and turned around to look at the man. You already saw him in class today, well, avoided him in class today. This is like a waking nightmare to see him in a safe space. Hiding your feelings, you swallowed before answering. The look on his face was innocent, but you never know what feelings he could be hiding too.

“You scared me,” You commented before continuing, “And, uh, no. It’s not really my scene anymore.” You muttered with a chuckle, turning back towards the table. The echoed footsteps from your teacher indicated he was going to take a seat at the table you currently occupied. Sitting up, you glanced around the library as he did so, but came across nobody.

“Anymore? You look quite young.” He spoke, setting a few books down that he’d had in his grasp. You didn’t notice them before.

“I’m almost thirty, I’m not young.” You commented with a dry chuckle, finally gathering the courage to look at your teacher. He gave you a laugh, prompting you to let a smile break.

“Well, I’m in my mid-fifties so what does that say about how old I am?” He rebuttaled with humor lacing his tone. You finally broke the resistant act and chuckled, looking towards him. He gave you a soft smile in return, enjoying seeing you filled with humor. The man didn’t want to admit that he also had developed some type of emotion for you as well. Since the moment you introduced yourself he knew you were going to be an issue. Not necessarily a bad thing, just a hindrance. He’s seen a lot of students come and go over the years he’s been teaching, but you’re the first one that’s captivated his eye, ever.

“Right, sorry.” You laughed, looking back towards the notes you’d been writing on. The two of you fell into a silence before your teacher spoke up.

“Hey, are you okay? It seems as though you’ve been avoiding me... If I’m overstepping as your teacher let me know-” The deep voice of your teacher has gone quiet, you knew he wanted to keep this private.

“No- No… You’re right.” You cut him off, sighing and rubbing your temple quietly. “I, uh, I have been.” The silence of your teacher caused you to look up at him. It was kind of strange to be having such a candid conversation with this man, though he’s just like any other human on earth.

“Well, may I ask why?” He asked quietly, almost sounding hurt from your choices. You nodded hesitantly before proceeding. Were you about to admit your feelings? Can you even do that? Is it even legal for faculty and students to date? Well, that is if you even date.

“Ever since our... well my presentation… There's been this weird energy between us and I honestly don't know how to react.” Your voice remained quiet as you spoke and your eyes kept pointed towards the table. Though, you could feel Professor Reeves’ eyes boring into the side of your face.

“(Y/N)...” The voice of your teacher caught your attention and you looked up. His eyes glanced around the room before he stood up in one quick motion. The towering height of the man was slightly intimidating, however he leaned over swiftly, capturing your face with both of his hands and connecting your lips.

Fireworks. Explosions. Electricity.

These were all the words you could use to describe the way his lips melded perfectly with your own. His stubble scratched your chin and upper lip so wonderfully and his hands help your face gently.

The man was the first to break the kiss, as you could've stayed there forever. He parted and stayed only an inch or two away from your face, however.

“Wow,” You softly breathed, feeling your body physically relax. A slight giggle escaped your throat as you did so. The man smiled back, gleeful from the event that just occurred.

“I've been wanting to do that since the first day.” He spoke hushedly. You captured his lips once again before quickly shoving your things into your backpack. If things were going to escalate, there was no better time. You cast your eyes up to his, staring through your lashes hinting at the lust you were feeling.

“The drama room, now.” You rushed, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You felt your teacher's body heat behind your figure as the two of you quickly, but trying their best to remain inconspicuous, made your way across campus to the Arts building.

Your teacher shoved open the door, his hand hooking onto your backpack and pulling you in. He swiftly shoved the door closed and locked it shut, making sure it was actually locked. You quickly rushed towards an old prop couch in the back corner of the room, tossing your bag and jacket off. You heard your teacher's footsteps quickly follow and the heat of his hands as he grabbed your arm, flipping you around and shoving you back onto the couch. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him down on top of your figure as you fell. Your bodies felt electric causing your heart to beat faster.

His eyes glanced down at your chest gazing delightfully at your cleavage. It only gave you confidence as you tangled your fingers into his dark locks, pulling your lips together. His hands then moved and melded firm on your ass, as he didn’t want you to get away. The scratch of his beard only added pain to the pleasure, enhancing the overall experience. Your hands found their way to Professor Reeves’ jeans; slyly unbuckling his belt and with one motion undoing his button as well. Your hand began to explore, finding his member semi hard and still tucked away behind his underwear. You gently began to rub over the cloth, prompting the man to moan quietly into your kiss.

In the meantime, the man's hands found their way to the zipper of your pants, he’d managed to unzip it entirely and then shifted his hands to unclip your bra through your top. You broke the kiss while he sat up slightly and pulled the apparel off, freeing your legs and top, leaving you in panties and a bra.

“Jesus, you are… breathtaking.” He muttered, eyes scanning your figure up and down. You felt the self-conscious feelings start to fill your brain and subconsciously hid your figure. Professor Reeves’ large hands grasped your arm, however, and kept you from hiding your gorgeous body.

The man’s mouth was swift to latch onto the swell of your breast, intending to mark the flesh. His fingers gently latched onto your bra, exposing your breast more. He gently kissed down the skin before his tongue swirled your nipple, occasionally flicking it with the muscle. The sensation only fueled your fire down south, and you quickly gathered the courage to gently slide your hands underneath his underwear. Your hand first met the feeling of pubes as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, beginning to pump slowly.

Professor Reeves carefully maneuvered his shirt off his body, tossing it somewhere in the classroom. You admired his body; he was slightly toned on his chest, however his shoulders and arms were more defined. He donned a small patch of chest hair, and a dark happy trail that led to a nice patch of dark pubic hair. His hair was messy, and he combed his fingers through, desperate to remove the strands from his eyes.

The man now stood up on his knees, quickly shucking off his pants and underwear leaving him completely nude. After that, You took the moment to ogle him and come to the reality that you're about to sleep with your teacher. This is a good idea, yeah?

Professor Reeves linked his fingers into the sides of your panties, gliding them down and off your legs all while staring at you through his lashes and fallen hair. Afterwards, his fingers gently made their way to your heat, fingers toying and exploring, eyes gazing you up and down. He bit his lip, as a single digit ran up your slit, hitting your clit at the end of it’s journey. You squirmed and gasped at the sudden sensation, earning a whisper of praise from your teacher. He redid the motion, this time with two fingers. You reacted the same, a squeal and squirm, gripping your hand onto his thigh.

“Darling, so wet for me already.” He commented, voice heavy. “How would you feel I…” He trailed off, slinking down and scooting back until his head came level with your stomach. With the last word escaping his lips, he kissed around your navel, working his way further and further down until a light kiss peppered your clit. Your hands flew to the man's head immediately tangling themselves within his long hair. He took this as an eager invitation, and began to suck your clit with excitement. One of his free hands worked its way up and began to twist your nipple gently. The sensitivity of your body caused you to moan and tighten your grip on the man's hair. His free hand left your nipple and moved down to your vagina. He continued to lick and flick your clit with his tongue as he slowly inserted a single digit. You tightened around his finger, enjoying the feeling of it all as he began to finger you carefully.

“Oh, Professor,” A breathy moan left your lips. The man’s reaction was to finger you faster while he sucked your clit harder. His beard rubbing against your inner thigh felt so wonderful, and you nearly suffocated the man between your legs. The teacher began to move his fingers skillfully. He kept tapping your g-spot as he did so, earning even louder cries of pleasure from you. He could tell you were getting close, as you kept tightening around his fingers and were basically giving him a head massage. He gently pulled them out, and gave one last sweet kiss to your clit before sitting up on his knees again. His dick was now fully hard and he nonchalantly touched himself, scooting closer to your position.

You sat up a little, reaching out to grab his member. Your hand replaced his and you switched positions once again, landing you on top. You moved your hair from your face and leaned your head down so your lips were just above his cock. You gently licked the tip, earning a shudder from the teacher. One of your hands gently rubbed your clit while the other held you up as you sucked the bass player off. Your tongue swirled around his member and you bobbed your head, making sure to keep your mouth as airtight as possible. He kept releasing delightful moans, occasionally letting his hand hold your head or fix your hair. He even used it to guide your bobs, keeping you on beat.

“Oh, love,” The man breathed. You cast your gaze up to his face, making sure to stay within rhythm. His eyes were turned dark from lust as he watched your pretty mouth circle his cock. You then stopped playing with yourself and used that hand to rub him while sucking. His moans only increased and became more frequent with each nod. You finally popped off, finishing with a few kisses around his navel. You wiped the corners of your mouth with a slight grin, sitting back on your knees. The man was only harder now, periodically causing his member to twitch from need. You lazily jerked him with one of your hands as you straddled his lap again, placing you into the cowgirl position. You lined yourself up with him, your entrance just barely touching his tip.

Professor Reeves gently placed his hands onto your hips, guiding you down onto his cock. You instantly moaned; his hard member filled you so perfectly as you sat down on him, giving you the warm feeling deep in your stomach. The man’s hand stayed firm on your hips as he began to help you bounce up and down on his dick. He even began to thrust up, only resulting in his member going deeper and harder in you.

Each ram seemed to make his hard cock find your g-spot perfectly. Your stomach kept twisting with every thrust, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. The teacher kept averting his gaze between your face and breasts while you fucked, enjoying the bounce of your figure. When you were able to, you would look into his eyes showing you how much you were enjoying him.

Professor Reeves surprised you by wrapping his arms tightly around your bum, trapping his cock in your pussy as he lifted and laid you on your back again. He then began to thrust more rapid than you'd ever been handled before. Slaps of sweaty skin echoed around the room but you didn’t care at all in the throes of pleasure. You moaned loudly, the Professor as well, only fueling both of your satisfaction. One of his hands found its way to your clit and he began to rub with his thumb. Swirling sensations began to fill your tummy, prompting louder moans. The deep warm feeling before orgasm began to fill each of your limbs.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You moaned, opening your eyes long enough to see your teacher's reaction.

“Darling, cum for me.” He raised his eyebrows in bliss, immediately rubbing your clit faster and harder. In response you tightened around his cock as he thrust, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. The pressure was building fast and before you knew it, an orgasm overtook your entire body. You wrapped your legs around the man's back, trapping him deep within you. He let out a pleasure filled gasp as his thrusts became staggard. You could feel his cock throbbing in you as he collapsed and lay with his head snug in your neck. You both lay still, but breathed heavily trying to recover from the incredible orgasm you both just experienced.

Professor Reeves slowly sat up and pulled himself out of you, wincing from how sensitive he was. You felt his hot cum slowly drip out of your pussy, but you didn’t care. The man groaned as he laid down next to you, now both of you laying on the couch, you tucked into his side.

“That was everything I imagined it to be.” The Professor commented after a few moments of silence. You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you turned on your side to face the dark haired man.

“I don't even know your name, Professor. You’d think I would've figured it out by now…” You trailed off, studying the man’s face. His eyes caught yours and he let out a short chuckle.

“I keep it hidden… for reasons.” He trailed off, mindlessly playing with a section of your hair.

“June told me you used to be a Hollywood actor. I never did a google deep dive to respect your past and, well, you. I wanted to ask you about it instead.” You cast your eyes towards his chest and mindlessly drew shapes with your fingers.

“It’s Keanu.” His voice was quiet, scanning your face for a reaction. You gave him a soft grin, looking up to meet his gaze.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You spoke in a whisper. He kissed the top of your head as a response, holding your figure tighter. It felt nice to be held by someone again. Keanu was the perfect man for that. Ever since the first day of class he’s made you feel safe. Most encounters with men haven't been pleasant, especially as a female actress.

“So, when are you going to show me the tapes of your shows?” Your teacher's deep voice gave you goosebumps, and you let out a short chuckle, sitting up and reaching for your bra. In the odd chance anyone was the show up, you wanted to be dressed.

“When you show me your movies.” You responded cheekily, eyes turning to give the man a wink. He let out a laugh as his large hand landed on your still exposed back, rubbing gently and avoiding your bra straps.

“I remember a certain lady telling me she started in and has a copy of Phantom, and it was mine.” He smirked, sitting up as well and pulling his clothing back on. You shook your head, laughter leaving your lips.

“How about this, over the course of the semester we…” You paused, eyeing the tall man up and down, “Keep whatever this is going on.” You paused for effect, “And once in a while we’ll watch one of our shows. Deal?” It appeared as though Keanu was thinking for a few moments before he answered.

“Deal.”

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu x you #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fan fic

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mutenized · 4 years ago

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The Choice Bit of Calico (Prologue)

Ship: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood, war, and violence (obviously), maybe a slow burn?, forbidden romance, inner conflict, heartache, rebellion. Intended smut

A/N: Choice Bit of Calico was slang in the 1920s for a desirable woman, this series is going to be my passion project other than Butterfly which is still in the works. Honestly debating if the Grace x Tommy relationship should be a thing but this basically starts BEFORE Grace comes into Tommy’s life.

Synopsis: You are the sibling of Billy Kimber. Living with him in London, you heard of nursing classes offered at a church in Birmingham near where you and your older brother were born. It was during World War I and you wanted to do something to help the soldiers from your country as well as the allied countries. Living in your childhood home until you were sent back to London to work at the Veteran’s Hospital, you never forgot about the firey brunette who wanted to do the same as you. Keeping in touch, you both wrote letters back and forth until one fateful day you find yourself back in Birmingham, bags in hand, to take care of an ailing family member. Who knew the moment you got off the train your whole life would change?

Word Count: 1144

NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

Flyers scattered the walls of the brick buildings of your street, the remnants of torn posters on the cobblestone streets. The war was tearing bonds of friends and even families apart, you saw this happen on your daily strolls and heard the arguments in the pubs when you went to drop off paperwork for your brother. It was sad, a country at war being torn apart on the inside while their brothers, husbands, sons, and fathers were fighting for them, yet they couldn’t help but argue about the politics of it. That’s why when you read the poster you felt a weight of relief come to you.

‘Women of England, do you want to help with the war efforts while our strong men fight over in Europe? Come to any of these five locations and take daily nursing classes to stand by our men in combat!’ Holding the parchment in hand, you scanned it for the closest location which wasn’t that close at all. A four-hour train ride daily would be a bother, not to mention it would be another four hours back. With a furrowed brow, you continued down the street back to your brother’s house before walking inside and calling out for him

“Billy! Do you still own mother and father’s old house in Birmingham?” You call out, shrugging off your coat and hanging it on the coat rack. Going deeper into the house, you find yourself opening the door to the study where you knew your brother was located. Looking over to him with a sigh, you cross the threshold and sit in one of the plush chairs that were placed across from his desk. As he looked over you, he perked his brow in curiosity before his hazel eyes landed on the flyer in your hand. With an exasperated sigh, Billy placed his book down after he marked the page and leaned back in his chair.

“Is that the poster for the nursing classes? You know I don’t like the idea of you getting tangled up in this war, (Y/N). First it will be you taking these classes, next it will be you being shipped off to God knows where in France or, or Belgium or wherever else they’re fighting! You’ll be in constant danger.” You knew Billy meant well but that was his way of declining your idea, as he always tended to do when it came to traveling long distances without him or one of the Birmingham Boys, anything to deal with the war or politics, and especially anything that had to do with his work. It was deeply infuriating as you were almost twenty years old and it was 1915 for Christ’s sake. You wanted to be independent like your friends down at the dance clubs and picture theatres, but your brother always had to put a stop to it. Him declining your wish to help those who were sacrificing their lives was the last straw.

“William Kimber, you can’t keep me stuck in this house and under your eye forever, you know this correct? I’m bloody nineteen years old for fucks sake! I can take care of myself and taking nursing classes at a church doesn’t sign you up immediately to be shipped off! I could be stationed at a regular hospital here or a veteran’s hospital like the one in London proper. Let me help the brave men out there, the ones who are actually doing a service to the nation!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice and you didn’t mean to poke at the fact your brother didn’t sign up for the war but it happened and if you would pull back all of the words you so viciously spat at him you would but the side of you that craved to be independent wouldn’t allow it. You needed to get out of the house that became the bane of your existence. Not only was it the want to help, it was also the want to be on your own and write your own future that fueled your aggressions, you craved freedom. The silence that followed your outburst made your skin crawl, your shoulders slumping in defeat as you noticed the angry, disappointed look Billy was giving you. Turning your back to him, you began to head out when you heard a sigh finally escape the man who took the role of your primary caretaker after your parents passed.

“The first train that leaves for Birmingham in the morning you will take. I will give you enough money to start off and after I will send you an allowance until the classes finish. Then you will tell me where they are sending you or if you opt out.” His words froze you in your tracks, a wave of excitement and joy quickly spreading through your veins as your body turned.

“You mean that?”

“Yes, but no shitting around out there. No getting involved with criminals, no whoring yourself out, and absolutely no drinking at that blasted bar called The Garrison. There is one near the family house that is much better in service and they will know who you are. Those are my rules, if you can follow them, I suppose I can trust you to lead your own legacy, (Y/N).”

With a grin, you quickly rushed across the threshold and engulfed your brother in a tight squeeze that made him release a laugh that you heard so rarely. “I won’t let you down, I swear! I’ll go pack my trunk and traveling case now! Oh, thank you!” The joy that flooded your body was the main source that kept you light on your feet as you rushed into your large room. Throwing open your empty trunk that lay with a knitted blanket on top of it at the end of your bed, you begin to pack the necessities. Emptying your closet of the clothes you adored and frequented, you packed some away in your traveling case while the rest went into the trunk with sheets, blankets, hair products, shoes, valuable accessories, and pillows and sheets. Anything you laid your eyes on, you packed. Books, writing equipment, journals, your music that you would always dance to at the dance clubs, as well as your little address book. You forced it all to fit as you finished up and switched into the pajamas you had laid out for the night. Packing your outfit from your day and proceeding with your nightly routine, you soon find yourself curled up under the covers with a smile as big as the moon on your face.

To think you were going to be starting your life out in a home you barely remembered, in a city that had forgotten about you, to learn how to care for others. That was exciting, thrilling, even.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #ada thorne #billy kimber #female reader #fanfiction #fanfic #thomas shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby x reader smut

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lofitojii · 4 years ago

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Admiration VI

Summary: He’s the son of Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. He was everything as described, handsome, cunning, admirable. You, the daughter of Poseidon, god of waters, knows that it’s against the rules to fall for such a man. Demigods aren’t allowed to be romantically involved with one another. But it’s hard to stay away.

Warning: [M] Swearing.

Word Count: 2.5k

Admiration Masterlist

“Utah?” Chanyeol asked, looking over you shoulder from the back seat. You nodded you head, glancing from the map to the open road in front of you. The clouds thundered, the rain hitting the ground ever so gently. “What’s in Utah?”

“Jongdae,” You replied. “He said that we’ll meet him and a friend in the mountains of Salt Lake Valley.” We all knew this was risky, especially when it came to Jongdae. Jongin swears that he is trustworthy but when someone has a bad rap, you can’t help but be on your toes.

“Can we even trust that guy?” Chanyeol asked as if he was reading my mind. He lifted his arms, resting his head back as he leaned into his seat. “I’m almost sure his father has ratted out many and has quite literally thrown people under the bus.”

“He’s a good guy,” Jongin replied. “I’ve known him for a while and he’s helped me with a lot.” Jongin seemed timid, uneasy if you may, as if the questions we were asking were making him nervous.

“Okay, but who’s to say he’s not working with the council? He also could’ve told his father who probably cares more about the bounty on our heads-”

“He owes me one,” Jongin cut Chanyeol off. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thighs up and down as he tried to form his thoughts. “A while back, before I was to set off for Olympia,” he started, fidgeting more than before. “We had run into each other at a store. He was being followed by these big men in black suits, US secret force, or something along those lines. I guess Jongdae had stolen something and was being hunted so I helped him escape through a secret portal doors my mother and Poseidon had set up for easy traveling among worlds. He told me that if I kept the item safe, he would help me out whenever I needed it.”

“What was the item?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. It must’ve been something belonging to the Gods for it was forbidden for Gods to commit crimes among the humans. He must’ve been hired by Zeus.

“Not sure,” he replied, leaning back in his seat. “Jongdae had it charmed so it can’t be opened by anyone else other than those who were involved in the making of the charm. Either way, if he turns us in, he knows the charm is rooted from a promise he made me and it break whatever the item is.” Jongin wasn’t known for telling little white lies so when he explained the situation, you couldn’t help but believe him. Not to mention a Gods or Goddess’ charm are eternal and pure. Jongdae and Jongin would be risking their godly life if a promise like that was broken. He wasn’t lying.

You were all on edge, the air within the car growing tense as Baekhyun approached the Utah state line. His hands gripped the steering wheel with great force, his knuckles turning white. “When we get there, we have to ditch this car.” He hadn’t said anything all morning.

He looked so frazzled, his hair messier than you had ever seen. He was wearing a gray hoodie, black jeans. It was unlike Baekhyun to be so uncoordinated. You slowly reached out your hand, placing it on his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. He glanced over at you, taking the hand you had placed and bringing it to his lips. You had spent many nights with Baekhyun, from passionate love to calm nights with sweet words. He’s more of a suffer in silence type, which you had caught on many years before. You knew he had a lot to say, but we would never say it. Not in front of your friends, at least.

As Baekhyun began to wind up the scenic route of the mountain, you could tell his heart rate was rising as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the curve in front of you. Your own heart began to race as Baekhyun frantically started his sentence. “When we hit this turn, we jump out the passenger side. I’ll slow down enough so we don’t get injured.”

“Woah woah! Jump out?” Chanyeol panicked. We didn’t even have enough time to brace ourselves before Baekhyun pulled on the stirring wheel, our bodies thrashing to the side.

“NOW!” Baekhyun yelled, reaching over my body and swinging the door open. He was quick to wrap his arm around my waist, launching both of us out of the car. He was so graceful with every move, every stride. He calmly landed on his knee and left foot, gently placing me down next to him. “See? Not a single scratch.”

“Yeah,” Jongin groaned, pushing Chanyeol off of his body. “For you.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as the two boys began to bicker about how it was the other persons fault for not being more coordinated.

“Damn it,” Chanyeol wined. “I didn’t even get to finish my coffee.” You rolled your eyes as he sulked behind you, following up a small trail not far from where Baekhyun had dumped the car. Just as you were about to make a comment, you tensed at the sound of crunching leaves behind you. You stopped dead in your tracks, trying to focus on where the rustling was coming from. “Do you hear tha-”

“Shh,” you were quick to cut him off. You continued to listen, your mind racing with ideas of how to take care of the situation. Your mind raced with images on who it could be.

The council. US Secret Service. A demonic creature.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind beginning to clear as you tried to relax and observe your opportunities. Your father had taught you many strategic moves, from stealth to quick attacks from behind. And just like that, you heard the steps grow closer, louder. You didn’t need to turn around to make your move. You grabbed the reached out arm, swinging the body over your shoulder, locking him in an armbar.

“What the hell, Sehun?” You scolded, tightening your grip so he knew you were upset with him.

“I’m.. Sorry.. I heard.. The crash.. I was.. Damnit Y/n let go!” You released your grip, getting back up on your feet. You brushed the loose dirt off your leggings, an arm reached out for Sehun who reluctantly took it. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Yeah you did,” you responded, glare intense.

“Yeah, I did.” You couldn’t help but let a small smile creep across your face as Sehun smirked at your comment. “And I should’ve known you wouldn’t let me get away with it.”

Sehun joined your group, trecking with you up the small trail. He led the group to a rather large cabin that was actually in the middle of the woods. It was miles, if not hours from nearest convenience store. It was isolated, just as suspected.

“Welcome,” Jongdae greeted the group. He stepped aside, leading you into the grand living room. It was beautiful, to say the least. The decor ranging from old renaissance paintings, vases, emerald green trim around the furniture, brick walls form a fireplace in the center of the home. Jongdae led the way towards the kitchen, a map already laid out on the middle table. “I found this map in the basement of one of my dad’s hideouts. It’s a full map that shows you where you can find other gods, goddesses, sirens, centars, you name it. It’s how he would know whether or not to avoid a certain area or if he was safe to pass through. And check this out. Y/n, hold your necklace orb above the map.”

You took the necklace from your neck, letting it dangle like a pendulum above the paper. Suddenly, the map disappeared with the image of Earth and appeared a map of Olympia. The necklace orb lit up with a blue aura as if it was releasing some sort of steam. You looked down at the map, a small blue dot mirroring the color of your orb. “That’s your father,” Jongdae smirked.

“No way!” Chanyeol exclaimed, taking his own orb from around his neck. He mirrored your movement, focusing on the orb in hand. It lit up with light pink aura, changing the map once more. This time, it took us to the moon. “Of course she would stay out of this.”

“This way, you can tell how close the troupe is. Baekhyun and Jongin will most likely be able to see troupes whereas Y/n and Chanyeol are able to see their parent.” Jongdae wrapped up the map and handed it to Baekhyun.

“Why is that?” Baekhyun asked, confusion visible across his face.

“Your mother, as well as Jongin’s, have created army type troupes with their power. Your orb can trace those powers no matter who it’s passed to. Also, this is the only map of it’s kind. My father became obsessed and had to hide it from himself.” A map that can tell you where gods and goddesses are. Or at least their power. “I have marked your first location on that map. As soon as you leave here, the map becomes yours and I am unable to take it back. You have to keep this promise. Baekhyun,” Jongdae reached his hand out, his necklace dangling from his middle finger. Baekhyun followed his same motion, his orb shining a deep hot pink, Jongdae’s being white. “Promise you won’t give up. Promise your love is real for Y/n and that you will protect your friends. If broken, your rings will dissolve and the map will disappear and return to me. Keep your promise, you will be safe and your journey for Hera will be met with success.”

“I promise,” Baekhyun answered as soon as Jongdae ended his speech. You could see Baekhyun’s eyes glowing the same color as his necklace, mesmerizing, to say the least. Jongdae smirked, putting his necklace in his pocket.

“True honesty,” Jongdae shook his head. “So pure yet so rare.”

They say those with intense power who hold true honesty within their hearts are to unlock their full potential when asked to keep a promise. Their eyes glow the color of their aura, unleashing an inhumane strength. The only descendants you had heard to contain this power was those of Aphrodite and Hera herself. Honesty and loyalty were very big within the community. You had just witnessed true honesty for the first time in the flesh.

And it was Baekhyun promising his love was real for you.

Baekhyun looked over at you, his eyes still burning the bright pink. “Incredible.” You turned to see Sehun shaking his head in disbelief. “They say that those who descend from Aphrodite contain an incredible power that is only shown when they’re honest.” Your heart raced at Sehun’s words. “And when they’re truly in love.”

“I plan on marrying you,” Baekhyun had yet to take his eyes off you. You grew flustered at his words, feeling your whole body shiver as he inched closer to you. “After we find Hera and the ban is lifted, I want to make you my life partner as soon as I can. That is a promise.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, the other pressing your head in his chest. You knew he was being honest based on how brightly his eyes were still glowing. The warm embrace of his hug made you feel incredibly safe, finding so much comfort within him.

You knew the more time you let slip by was more time for the council to catch up to you. You felt the anxiety bubble at the thought, your mind racing.

“Jongdae,” Jongin spoke barley above a whisper. You could see the nerves engulfing his body as he fidgeted to form his sentence. “Can I ask about-”

“Your first stop,” Jongdae winked. “You’ll see her then.” Plum. You remember the conversation you and Jongin had before you had set off on your journey together. Was she going to remember him? Does she look the same as before? You knew the consequences yet you were more scared than Jongin seemed to be. “Alright. This door here will take you to the base of Mount Fugi in Japan and from there it’s about 30 miles into the woods. Use your map if you get lost but I’m sure Kyungsoo or Plum will find you before you make it within a 10 mile radius.”

You all followed Jongdae out the door, being met in a huge basin of a beautiful mountain. It was raining, the clouds cast a dark overcast. It was a breathtaking view. “Oh and before I forget,” Jongdae started. “Kyungsoo and Plum were told to battle anyone who tries to pass, bound by a promise they had made to the Nature Goddess, Gaia who is also their mother. I told them about you guys and your journey but that by no means they will make you an exception. Knock one out or capture them both in order to pass. They will give you what information you need if you succeed in beating them.”

“That doesn’t seem too complicated,” Chanyeol replied. He gripped both mine and Jongin’s shoulder, giving us both a sturdy shake. “We’ve got two badass fighters on our team.” You looked over at Jongin, his face pale.

“Jongin?” You asked, trying to read his expression.

“I wouldn’t be too confident there,” Jongdae laughed. “This is their terrain after all.” And with that, Jongdae retreated back in through the door, leaving the four of you alone in the middle of the grass field.

“What does that even mean?” Chanyeol asked, scratching his head in pure confusion.

“It means you could possibly die if you let your guard down.” You turned around, being met with an unfamiliar face. He was short, shorter than you at least. His black hair falling ever so lightly in front of his eyes. He wore what looked to be a samurai outfit, but only the cloth material. “You must be who Jongdae was talking about. It would be smart to use your orbs against me.”

Jongin and Baekhyun were quick to materialize weapons from their orbs, taking a stance in front of Chanyeol and myself. “He’s being serious,” Jongin pointed out. The look in the unfamiliar mans eyes was soul pericing. You knew his action were based on his eternal promise. He was confident, as he should be. This is what he’s trained his whole life for.

But you had also trained for this.

With this being his own area, you knew his strength could be stronger than if it was on an even battlefield. You had to think quickly and rationally in order to not hurt yourself or your friends. You mirrored the image of Jongin and Baekhyun, materializing the weapon you felt could hold your ground. Your father’s Triton.

“Well,” the man smirked. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun imagine #byun baekhyun #chanyeol

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aertifas · 4 years ago

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Broken Mirror - Chapter 3

iii. a lot of catching up to do

Stargazer Heights is a tiny block of apartments on the east side of Sector 7 that Tifa calls home. For a while after she first arrived in Midgar, Tifa lived exclusively on the streets, huddled near train stations at night to keep safe, taking every possible odd job she could find to scrounge up enough money to afford a real place. Zangan had helped her as much as he could--her medical bills had put her in debt, not that she could remember much from her hospital visit--but eventually she had to fend for herself. And at fifteen, fending for herself was a daunting task.

But Tifa held on to something. She had to hold on. She was the only one left who remembered them--the village, her friends, her neighbors, her father. If she didn’t survive, who would tell the story? Who would ever know what happened?

Certainly not the public--Shinra was quick to deal with that. Tifa starved in those early days, but she always managed to buy the paper. She’d sit and read it at the station, cover to cover, just to find one single word about Nibelheim. About her home. About Sephiroth. Sephiroth appeared on the front page for weeks: “War Hero dies in freak accident”. No location, no date, no details. But Nibelheim only got a footnote; something about a reactor malfunction that Shinra had under control, nothing that the public should worry about.

Tifa’s entire life was erased from history.

And so, Tifa didn’t allow herself to get low. She doesn’t allow herself to get low. She survived before, and she survives now. Not long after she’d arrived in Midgar and she met Barret, a new resident himself, and his little baby Marlene. He’d bought the abandoned warehouse on the west side of Sector 7 and needed help moving construction supplies. Tifa was no stranger to heavy lifting, and the two began to develop a friendship. Eventually, Tifa suggested opening a bar--and the rest of the story wrote itself.

Shortly after, Tifa rented a room at Stargazer heights, owned by Marle. Marle and Tifa have grown close over the years; whenever she gets exhausted at work, or tired of Avalanche’s antics, she goes to Marle for advice. Marle’s older and she’s lived in Sector 7 for a long time, and she knows everything about living in the slums. She never turns Tifa away from her door, even in the dead of night.

Tifa feels a little guilty that she hasn’t told Marle about her overnight guest--but now’s not the time. There’s a lot that Tifa needs to figure out first.

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

Tifa doesn’t tell Cloud her story--at least, not yet. She wants to hear his. She wants to know what he’s been through, what he was doing all these long years. Where he’d gone.

Why he doesn’t seem like himself.

Tifa and Cloud sit across from each other in the dimly-lit Stargazer Heights laundry room. Marle keeps three washing machines and three dryers in two neat lines in the basement of the apartment building. Cloud sits on a chair that’s up against the wall--now clad in a white t-shirt that’s much too big for him and even baggier pants--while Tifa sits atop a washing machine. They talk over the hum of the machines whirring around them.

“So did you end up fighting in the war?” asks Tifa. When Cloud looks down at his hands, she quickly adds, “Uh, don’t worry if it’s a sore subject--forget I asked--”

“No, it’s fine,” says Cloud, looking back up at her. “I… did go to Wutai. Just once.”

“That all?”

Cloud nods. “By the time I made it into SOLDIER, the war was almost over.”

“So what’d ya’ do after that?” asks Tifa, swinging her legs back and forth as they dangle from the ledge.

Cloud sighs. “Boring shit, really. They didn’t have enough for us to do as SOLDIERs, so we went around silencing Shinra defectors, mostly.”

Tifa purses her lips. “That’s really all you did?”

“If I had more to tell you, I would,” says Cloud.

“Why’d you quit?” Tifa leans on her elbows, eyes looking intently into Cloud’s. Initially, he looks away from her, unable or unwilling to hold her gaze. “Sounds like an easy gig--right?”

“Yeah, that was the problem,” says Cloud. “No risk, no reward. Couldn’t be a hero that way.”

Tifa thinks back on that night under the stars. Cloud’s words echo in her head. I’m gonna be a SOLDIER. The best of the best--like Sephiroth. It seemed like such an impossible dream back then, but Tifa always thought that, if anyone could do it, it would be Cloud. The boy that held the world in his sea-blue eyes.

Tifa thinks to herself, Maybe it’s better he didn’t end up like Sephiroth. Even before the fire, I never even liked the guy.

But saying this to Cloud would only add insult to injury. Instead, she says, “I’m sure you were someone’s hero.”

When she says this, Cloud finally looks up from his clasped hands and looks directly into Tifa’s eyes. He has the power to hold her gaze, to freeze her in her place, though he seems to not even realize it. Tifa finally has a chance to study his eyes--intensely blue, with a faint green glow from beneath. Even in this dimly lit space, his eyes seem to light up like blue flame. There’s something endlessly captivating about them--haunting, even--and they trap Tifa into their grip, shackling her to him.

Tifa hates to say it, but she misses his old blue eyes.

But this held gaze doesn’t last nearly as long as it feels. Cloud’s eyes eventually drop back down to his hands--now, clenched into two separate fists on his lap. “Yeah. Maybe.” After a long pause, he looks back up at Tifa, though not with that same wistful look as before, and says, “I’ve said enough about me. What about you?”

“Me?” Tifa asks.

“Yeah. You. Who else?”

Tifa taps her fingers against the metal washing machine beneath her. “After I left Nibelheim, I came to Sector 7. I eventually got a job bartending from my friend Barret.”

“Barret, huh?” asks Cloud. “Do I get to meet this Barret?”

“Someday soon,” Tifa says. “He’s a really nice guy.” She takes a deep breath, purses her lips, and says, “You ever heard about Avalanche?”

“Avalanche?” Cloud rests one hand on his pensive face. “Can’t say I have.”

Tifa furrows her brows, but just for a second. A thought pops into her head. Funny that he went to Wutai but doesn’t know about Avalanche. Barret talked enough about it for Tifa to know; Shinra had tried to snuff Avalanche out in Wutai, at the tail end of the war. That’s where Avalanche had set up their base of operations. In fact, Avalanche didn’t start gaining traction in Midgar until after the war was over.

But she doesn’t want to question Cloud. Maybe that just isn’t his area of expertise.

“Uh, it’s a group,” Tifa says, shaking her head. “How should I put this?... Avalanche doesn’t like Shinra very much.”

“Who does?” Cloud responds, leaning back in his chair.

“They want to protect the Planet,” Tifa explains, “and to do that, they have to take down Shinra. Shinra’s been labeling them as eco-terrorists in the news...”

Cloud squints his eyes at Tifa, perhaps unable to discern her expression. She hides her face a little from him. “What about Avalanche? You involved?”

“Sort of,” Tifa responds. “More like… I help them out from time to time.”

“Help how?” asks Cloud. Now he’s sitting upright in his seat, listening attentively. A look of displeasure washes across his face.

“Barret--he owns the bar,” explains Tifa, flustered. “Or, his name’s on the paperwork. He’s a part of them. Of Avalanche. And so every now and then, I overhear things. And I guess sometimes I cover for them.”

Cloud looks Tifa up and down, that intense gaze returning, trapping Tifa yet again. He scowls. “You shouldn’t be involved in a group like that. You’re putting yourself in danger.”

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

Cloud leans on his elbows, moving his eyes to the floor. “Guess I can’t blame you, though. Shinra… well, fuck Shinra. They don’t give a damn about anything. I’d probably have joined Avalanche, too, if I lived in the slums.”

Tifa nods. Her hands tightly grip the edge of the machine, turning her knuckles white beneath her gloves. “Yeah. I… Shinra just makes me so mad...” Tifa catches herself getting overwhelmed with this. This anger. It washes over Tifa in waves, pulling her under, drowning her. But she always catches herself before that fire in her heart brings tears to her eyes. She composes herself and continues. “Avalanche does good for the Planet, too. I’m… I’m glad I met them.”

Cloud’s eyes are trained on her hands, which have relaxed their grip. When he looks up at Tifa, she swears that he appears gentler, for just a moment in time. That harsh, constricting gaze he holds her in, replaced with softness that is uncharacteristic of him. That permanent scowl gone, tight jaw loosened, eyebrows turned downward. He says, “Tifa...” and Tifa looks at him, catching this expression only briefly. But once she does, he turns away and reverts to his normal self. The scowl returns, and the eyes glow severely, more now than before. “I trust you to handle yourself out there. You’re pretty strong.”

Tifa smiles. “Thanks.”

The rest of the time spent in that basement room is punctuated by small conversations, cheeky comments (all from Cloud), and the occasional lull back into silence. But even in these silent moments, Tifa looks at Cloud and feels a fullness in her chest. She worries for him--God, does she worry for him--but there’s something else in her heart. Something warm. Something familiar. She never admitted it before, but now she can’t deny it: she missed Cloud Strife. That starving girl who read the paper wouldn’t just look for Nibelheim--she’d look for Cloud Strife, hoping to catch even a glimpse of his name somewhere. She remembers even a few times where, with a heaviness in her chest that weighed her down like bricks tied to her ankle, she looked to the obituaries, and prayed softly not to find him there.

But now, he’s back. And she missed him while he was gone.

She’s happy to have him back.

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

“I promise you, we’ll find you something better in the morning.”

Tifa pulls out a sleeping bag from her small closet and rolls it out on the floor, a few feet away from her bed. She insisted to Cloud when they returned to the apartment that she be the one sleeping on the floor--but Cloud wouldn’t have it. “You’re the one doing me the favor, here,” he reminded her sternly. “What kind of guest would I be making you sleep on the floor?” Tifa pleaded with him once more, but that seemed to be the end of the discussion.

Now, setting up Cloud’s accommodations, she feels a tinge of guilt. He’s gone through a lot--though Tifa can’t know exactly--and she wants him to sleep in a real bed. But the sleeping bag will have to do for the night. In the morning, she can find him something better.

“God, I’m exhausted,” Cloud says, slipping into the sleeping bag.

“Me, too.” Tifa found her way to her bed and covered herself with her thick sheets. Tifa turns so her back faces Cloud and keeps her eyes trained on the wall. She doesn’t want Cloud to notice her sheepishness--Tifa’s always been a private person, and normally she would never share her room like this. But this is different--this is Cloud. So she fights her shyness and her nerves. Even though thinking about how close he’s sleeping paints her face in a rosy hue.

“Hey, Tifa?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks again,” Cloud says, quietly. “For everything.”

Tifa laughs lightly. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Tifa doesn’t hear if Cloud responds to her. She’s already drifted off into a deep sleep.

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

Summers in Nibelheim were particularly hot and brutal--especially after Shinra built the reactor at the top of Mt. Nibel. The Mako hung over the town in a thin blanket, trapping in heat, making the air sweltering and unbearable. But Tifa didn’t care. Not when she was a kid, and she had the whole summer to play, to run barefoot through the fields just beyond the town gate, to climb the water tower and watch those red and orange summer sunsets.

Next door lived Cloud Strife. This was before he’d grown his hair out long--actually, it looked a lot like it does now. Cut to just above the shoulders, styled in spikes. Tifa and Cloud were friends. She considered him to be her friend, at least. His bedroom window looked into hers, and they’d often talk across the gap. It would always be short, superficial conversations, “How are you?” or “What did you do today?” But Tifa looked forward to them. She liked talking to Cloud, even if just for a few minutes before she’d fall asleep.

But even though Cloud would talk with Tifa each night, Cloud never played with Tifa and her friends--even when they’d chase each other around in the town plaza, making enough noise for the old shopkeeper to yell at them, Cloud never asked to join. Tifa always figured he had better things to do.

She always wished he would ask, though.

One day--particularly brutally hot, even for summer--the boys suggested playing a game they called “Save the Princess”. One team, dubbed “Wutai”, would “capture” Tifa; the other team, the SOLDIERs, would have to defeat Wutai in order to rescue her. Tifa always thought this was a silly game--and boring. She always got stuck waiting for the boys to finish fighting; and, even when they finished, all she’d get to do was crown the winners as her “heroes”. Whenever the boys suggested this game, Tifa protested. But her alternatives were always vetoed.

This time, the boys had a problem: they didn’t have a third SOLDIER, giving Wutai an unfair advantage.

As they argued about what to do, Tifa peered across the square. Her eyes landed on Cloud, who sat by himself on a bench, eyes to the ground, his own wooden sword resting against the wrought iron armrest. He didn’t notice her looking at him, but watching him there, always a loner, Tifa came up with an idea.

“Let’s ask Cloud to play,” Tifa told the group of boys.

“No way!” one boy exclaimed. “Not Strife. He’s a jerk.”

“You wanna play Save the Princess--don’t you?” Tifa responded. And without hearing the other boys’ answers, she skipped off to the other side of the square.

When Cloud heard footsteps approaching him, he looked up and met eyes with Tifa. In the summer sun, his eyes appeared even deeper. When she looked at them, Tifa couldn’t help but smile.

“Tifa,” Cloud said, as if he were in awe that she’d approach him out of the blue. “What’s up?”

“Do you wanna play a game with us?” asked Tifa. “We need one more person.”

“How do you play?” Cloud asked her in reply, tapping his foot on the pavement rapidly.

Tifa grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He barely had enough time to grab his wooden sword and sling it on his back. “It’s easy!” she shouted to him. “I’m the princess. You’re a SOLDIER. All you gotta do is beat Wutai and rescue me--got it? Then you’ll be my hero.”

“How do I rescue you?” he replied, eyes wide and starry.

This time, one of the boys chimed in--with an annoyed tone. “You gotta bring Tifa to the old mansion.”

Cloud nodded. Tifa took her place by the base of the water tower. She caught Cloud’s eyes with her own and waved to him, shouting, “You got this, Cloud!” and eliciting a rare, shy smile from the little blond-haired boy next door.

One of the Wutai boys yelled, and they all started fighting. Wooden swords clashing against wooden swords. Shouting over each other, yelling at each other, saying words that Tifa’s dad told her were “unladylike”. Tifa fell to a seated position and watched from the sidelines, arms crossed on her knees. Eventually her eyes travelled upward, bored of the fight, to watch the blue sky, and to follow the fluffy white clouds as they drifted aimlessly above her.

But she didn’t have time to daydream. She felt a tap on her arm, bringing her back to reality. Standing above her was Cloud, hand outstretched to meet hers, all while the other boys were fighting just a few feet from them.

“Cloud?” Tifa asked. “What are you doing?”

Cloud cocked his head, before simply answering, “Rescuing you, of course.”

Tifa gave him her hand and he pulled her to her feet. Hand in hand, Cloud pulled Tifa along behind him, making his way quickly to the mansion at the edge of town. It was only then that the other boys noticed them running, one calling out, “Hey, what the hell, Strife?” and another complaining, “That’s against the rules!”

Tifa barely had a chance to catch her breath. She shouted to Cloud, “What about the fight?”

“Heroes always rescue the princess first,” Cloud said to her. “Then they can deal with the bad guys.”

A red flush washed over Tifa’s face. She looked back to see the other boys right behind them in an angry mob. But she and Cloud were faster, and they reached the mansion first. It’s only after they arrived there that Cloud finally lets go of Tifa’s hand.

The biggest of the group of boys pushed his way to the front. He yelled in Cloud’s face, “Why’d you have to go ruin our game, Strife?” while Cloud stood his ground, scowling back at the boy with an unwavering glare.

Tifa stepped between them. “What are you talking about? Cloud didn’t break any rules!”

“Yeah, he did!” another boy shouted from behind. “He cheated!”

“You guys are being mean!” Tifa said. “Cloud won fair and square!”

“Come on, Tifa, don’t defend him!”

“That’s why we don’t invite him to play with us!”

The boys’ shouts grew louder and more aggressive with each taunt. Tifa was unable to yell over them, drowned out by their petty arguing. She turned to Cloud and watched his face. At first, he appeared angry. But Tifa saw his expression morph, for the tiniest fraction of a moment, into one that hurt her heart. In that second, he looked sad. He looked as if he could break down. He looked shattered.

But he didn’t ever express it, if he was sad. Because the moment Cloud began to feel sad, he replaced it with anger. He pushed the taller boy out of his face, deepening his scowl, and shouted through gritted teeth, “Fine by me. This game is stupid anyway.”

Cloud stormed past the group of boys, stomping off to the other side of the square. Tifa ran toward him, shouting after him, “Cloud, wait!”, but didn’t follow him. She stopped at the fence that lined the perimeter of the old mansion and just watched him walk away, shoulders tense with anger, hands balled into fists. Behind her, the other boys were coming up with a new plan, a new way to play the game. But Tifa barely listened to them. She just kept her eyes on Cloud until the boy disappeared in the distance, most likely finding refuge somewhere in the fields just outside of town.

That was the first time any boy thought to save Tifa first. It was the only time any boy thought to save Tifa first. And eventually, Tifa refused to play that game ever again.

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

Tifa lifts her heavy eyelids and finds herself transported back to her tiny apartment, staring at the piano concerto poster hung on her concrete walls by tape. In a state of stupor, of half-sleep, Tifa groggily rolled to the other side and looked across the room with bleary eyes.

The clock on her bedside table reads 3:35 a.m. She sighs deeply. I really must have needed some sleep.

Tifa thinks it’s a little odd, her dreaming of such a memory. Most of her Nibelheim dreams are tinged in bright red; some are dusted in blue and green. But this one was colored golden--the color of the many summers she spent under that beautiful mountain sky.

And Cloud? Tifa must have had Cloud on her mind when she fell asleep. That’s not such a surprise, though. Usually, Cloud is absent from her Nibelheim dreams, only appearing when she sees that gorgeous star-studded sky above her head. He’s sitting next to her on the edge of the water tower, as he should be. But this was a different memory; it must be because they’ve reunited after so many years.

She turns her gaze to the floor, where Cloud should be, to find an empty sleeping bag.

Wait… empty?

Where’s Cloud?

Tifa jumps from her bed and knocks frantically on the bathroom door, only to get no response. When she throws the door open, the room is empty. The sound of wind whirring against the walls draws her attention to the front door, which is slightly ajar, and every so often moves with the breeze and knocks against the doorframe with a metal bang.

Cloud’s sword, too, is missing from its place on the wall.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Tifa doesn’t have time to think. She doesn’t even bother changing out of her pajamas. She throws on a coat and runs outside--not even bothering to lock the door behind her.

Blog Introduction/Chapter Selection | Next Chapter

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ofgoodmenarchive · 4 years ago

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The sixth in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Trust Fall

“Careful with him-” Dorian grunted, shifting Lavellan's weight to a new pair of arms. “He's lighter than he looks- but his stature is still rather cumbersome.”

Noting his advice, the healers were cautious with their new patient, trying their best not to leave any limbs dragging. Dorian had carried him through the fort and now deposited his lifeless form at whatever passed for a surgeon's station. Hopefully their abilities surpassed the low expectation he had of this Southern, backwater hovel.

Released from his charge, he collapsed in exhaustion, back-against-wall, vaguely overhearing scraps of dialogue from within. Not even a gasp was allowed before his insides wrenched painfully, as if a small inferno struggled for escape.

Dorian jerked forward with a hiss and Desire sprung from it's host, swaying and dizzied.

“For-the love-of-!” Though he squinted in displeasure, his shadow barely offered a glance before slipping through the door- after Lavellan.

With a groan he slouched into brick, not having the stamina to protest.

Paw-pads echoed softly through the hall- Lunis' dropped into his lap a second later.

“Oof!” Sighing wearily, he pet the dog. “Yes, yes, that's a good boy...”

For a short time he sat and lamented the whole blasted affair. Not that there was anything to do for it- even if he could convince his Desire to abandon it's attraction, Thedas would be in disarray without its Herald. Then how would Dorian continue his much-favoured lifestyle of roaming, drinking and pleasuring?

Still- he was irritated. Drained of energy and lacking immediate options- Lavellan was in no shape to sustain him in any manner. If he couldn't locate a butcher for some meat or blood or some such, he'd be reduced to hunting vermin in the cellars. Not a favoured meal by any stretch.

“I SAID- NO!!” A familiar voice barked out, brimming with panic- “DO NOT TOUCH ME!- THE BLOOD MAGE! I SAID- FETCH- THE- BLOOD MAGE!!”

Jostling practically out of his robes, Dorian and Lunis swerved to face the door in tandem. It flew ajar, revealing a servant who had led them into the property, pale-faced and obviously shaken.

“L-Lord-um?” He struggled to address, a whirl of smashed glass and incoherent Dalish warring behind.

“Pavus.”

“Y-yes, ah, Lord Pavus- the Herald, he- no one can get near him! He's asking for you...”

For a second he didn't think he heard right- why would Lavellan ask for him? Just some hours prior the man had been undecided on whether or not to gut him like a 'Tevinter pig'!

Back on his feet, Dorian sprinted inside, where he was met by a trio of petrified healers, recoiling from the Herald. With radiant blade unleashed he stood in a corner, a cot toppled near him, along with a mess of fractured potions and poultices.

If the healers looked scared- Lavellan looked more-so; in his wide-eyed, snarling terror he'd chosen 'fight' over 'flight', the feral warping of his face ensuring to all that he would strike them down without hesitation.

“Herald- I'm here!” Dorian situated himself between the healers and Lavellan, arms outstretched. “You can put that down! No one's going to touch you!”

Wordlessly, that rabid gaze flit between Dorian and the servants over his shoulder. Following the motion, he understood.

One of the healers looked dreadfully familiar- though last they'd met, his features had been significantly bloodied.

Granted- in the future they'd visited, that man had likely been corrupted in some manner, enslaved by Venatori. Obviously Lavellan couldn't be expected to digest such a nuance, not with his wounds- the physical and mental- so sorely fresh.

Dorian recognised immediately that everyone in that room would have to leave.

“OUT!” He bellowed, whirling upon them. “All of you OUT!”

They hurried to obey, door slamming at their departure.

Lavellan bucked against the thrown cot, swearing in garbled Dalish as his weapon clattered, whatever adrenaline had willed his muscles to grip now absent.

“I'm going to need to take a look at your arm.” Dorian said slowly, not yet approaching. “Will you allow me, my dear Herald?”

He was briefly sized up but soon offered a nod and Dorian was permitted to close the space between them. First he righted the cot, gently guiding Lavellan to relax upon it. All the while he was stiff as tree-bark, despite yielding to hands that steadied him.

“...You know...” He decided to mention, thinking it might help. “Those men in the future- they were enthralled, influenced by the Venatori...”

“I do not care.” Lavellan answered solidly, glowering at the floor.

“...You've never been through any sort of torture before, have you?”

To this no reply was given- which said enough. It occurred to Dorian that as intimidating and firm as the Herald might appear, he'd probably lived an uneventful, idyllic life before coming into his namesake. That would fit in with what little of his upbringing he'd shared previously.

The poor fool was likely terrorised out of his wits. It was miraculous that he could speak in full sentences at all, or could come to such simplistic reasoning as 'Blood Mage saved me, therefore safe'.

A testament to how hardy he was under all that blood and matted hair, Dorian thought. Discarding such admiration for now, he honed in on the Herald's injuries. Asides from his anchor-bearing arm, he seemed only scraped and bruised- if not awfully malnourished.

“Alright, just hold still...” He cooed, unwinding bandages from the mutilated limb. “I'll try to be gentle...”

Muscles flinched but didn't recoil, Lavellan remaining in stony quiet. With the wrappings cast aside Dorian was able to properly inspect the damage; flesh terribly scarred, covered in stitches, marred by old stitches that had been removed, then replaced anew. Incisions on top of incisions on top of incisions, malformed dents and whirls creating a mess that barely resembled a shoulder-blade anymore.

It occurred to Dorian with some dismay and horror that they'd simply begun yanking out muscles and ligaments when nothing else bore fruit. It was no wonder Lavellan could hardly move his arm- it was a wonder he could at all, let alone to threaten healers with a magical blade.

“...You're actually missing pieces of your arm and shoulder, I assume you're aware?”

Lavellan merely issued a grunt.

“...Alright, well, just sit tight.”

Turning away from his patient, Dorian perused what alchemical resources had been unharmed by the minor Dalish rampage. A well-mixed regenerative potion could regrow the vacant flesh overtime, though his arm would never work as well as it used to. With some of Dorian's own abilities to manipulate the process, there would be a better chance at adequate recovery- and a speedier one, which he imagined was important.

He began picking out chemicals and mingling them together, explaining as he did;

“...I'm mixing a potion for you. It should numb most of the pain and eventually mend some damage- but I must inform you, my Herald...the destruction is severe. The best I- or anyone can do...is to prevent you from being crippled entirely...”

He noted that Lavellan's mouth twitched- the mildest of spasms. Asides from that the elf said nothing and made no eye contact, his expression a wooden mask.

With a tired exhale Dorian sat before him, potion in one hand while the other raised, curling to poise against a ring he always wore.

“Do you trust me?” He inquired meaningfully, eyes pinning to the elf's face until he found it in himself to meet Dorian's gaze.

Mutely, Lavellan nodded.

“Then trust me when I say this is for your own good, and won't benefit me in anyway.” It would, in fact, only add to his weariness, after such a long day with nothing to 'eat'.

The Herald continued to view him in expectant silence.

Tugging at a concealed hinge, Dorian pulled it apart from his ring and swiped the blade along his fingers, red instantly oozing from the slit. An old trick he'd acquired if he ever needed to utilise blood and no one else's was handy. Today, his blood in specific was precisely what he required.

Lavellan did not cease his observation but nor did he react- merely watching.

Dorian proceeded to dribble his life-force into the potion, squeezing until minor injuries clotted. He then swirled the bottle, allowing his vital liquids to assimilate with other ingredients, until the contents were dyed pinkish.

“Drink up, Herald.” He held out the end result and was a little alarmed by how it was simply removed from his hand and sipped, barely afforded a second look.

“You need to drink the whole thing.” He directed.

“It tastes metallic.” Lavellan pointed out, flat.

“Well, yes,” Dorian snorted. “That's because there's blood in it.”

Shrugging with his able shoulder, Lavellan gulped down the rest, wincing slightly at what had to be a peculiar and sharp taste.

“It should stop hurting so much soon- and you might start feeling more relaxed.”

Though his chin bobbed in acknowledgement, still the elf had nothing to add.

“Well...let's have them bring a tub in here, hrm? I'm sure you'd like to attend to your hygiene, after being stuck in a kennel for Maker-knows how long.”

Not waiting for a verbal response- there had been few thus far- he strode off to the exit and was thankful to spot that same servant, idling for any sort of command.

“Have a tub filled and brought here, will you? Just because we're in Ferelden doesn't mean he should go about smelling of dog- and have one filled for me too! Elsewhere, wherever.”

When he turned back towards the room, Lavellan was regarding him strangely.

“...Something the matter?”

“You are leaving?” The elf mumbled, the strangeness of his gaze increasing.

“Well- for a few moments...we both need a bath- and you're already caked in enough dirt for two.”

Lavellan appeared to battle with something internally, shoulders hunching, teeth gnawing a lip.

Eventually, he found his voice- as small as it was.

“I do not trust the people here.”

“I...” Dorian faltered, not predicting this. “Well, they're your people, my Herald...”

“Are they?” He mumbled sourly, withdrawing further into himself.

“...Alright, wait just a moment-” Sticking his head passed the door-frame, Dorian called. “Lunis! Where in the void did you-”

Feet scampered by, the loyal wolf almost shoving him aside in its haste to enter and pounce upon its master, who snorted with a hint of cheer, embracing the overgrown pup to his chest.

“There you go! See, Lunis will look after you.”

The creature snarled in agreement, wriggling merrily in Lavellan's grasp.

“Very well...” He said into Lunis' fur, very quietly. “...You may go.”

“Why, thank you so much for the permission!” Dorian chuckled, rolling his eyes as he departed to locate wherever his own tub was being prepared.

On his way he felt Desire glaring at him as they walked- and needn't wonder why.

“Yes, yes, I'm being terribly decent- I know you can't stand it.” He huffed, trying to dismiss his shadow. “But he's just so...pathetic right now. It's not especially attractive!”

Desire glared harder.

“I know it's attractive to you- but that's because there's something wrong with you- more than usual!”

Waving the demon off, he tried to ignore how several bystanders were oddly spectating what appeared to be signs of madness.

Washing up swiftly, Dorian meandered to the kitchens, searching for anything that might sustain him in the meantime- blood, bits of fresh meat, anything. He did manage to come about a few scraps and was then prepared to watch over Lavellan.

He was surprised to catch sounds of laughter on his approach- subdued as they were. Sauntering into the room he found Lavellan sitting in a tub- with the bloody dog, of course! Southerners and their bloody dogs! Dorian was beginning to regret and resent his own gift, watching as a nude Herald covered the beast in suds and cackled as it flailed about, spraying bubbles everywhere.

“...You know, the whole point of the bath was for you to smell less of dog...”

Lavellan blinked at that, Lunis panting contently alongside.

“What is wrong with the smell of dog...?”

“...You're certainly Ferelden, I'll give you that.” Eye-rolling along with his snark, he picked a towel that had been laid out with a fresh set of clothes, waving it to gain the Herald's attention. Obliging him, Lavellan clambered out and stumbled into the fabric, allowing Dorian to fold it around his wet frame.

He couldn't help but notice that even in his tumultuous state, the elf's body-heat sky-rocketed at any brief touch. Leashing himself was a trial- fairly sure that if his hand or mouth happened to slip, Lavellan would be more than receptive to the comfort.

Which was exactly the problem- he couldn't have recovered much of his sense yet. Dorian found he loathed the idea of adding more stimulation to what had to be frazzled, overworked nerves.

They should at least get one nights rest before he started thinking of anything like that...

“Here...” He said awkwardly, patting through the towel. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

“I think I can manage.” Cheeks blushed, the elf slipped passed to reach his clothes and Dorian faced the sodden wolf, submerged happily in soapy water.

“...I'm not drying you,” He pouted, still juggling his resentment. “The bath wasn't meant for you anyway!”

With a mournful howl Lunis leapt from the tub, scrambling to brush soaked fur onto Dorian's robes.

“What?! Stop that! Bad dog!!” He near-wailed, feeling truly assaulted while stumbling around the room, wolf at his heels and Lavellan snickering.

“Now we all smell of dog, so there is no reason to complain.” He quipped, voice muffled by the shirt he was wrestling onto his torso.

“Ugh!” Completely disagreeable, Dorian stormed for the other end of the room and flopped onto a mattress.

Soon Lavellan climbed onto the one opposite, accompanied by trotting paw-pads. Lunis hopped onto his same cot, curling against the Herald's chest, who appeared soothed by utilising the beast as a large, rumbling pillow.

Dorian again underwent a pang of envy- then annoyance, as he considered how ludicrous it was that he now longed for the placement of a dog.

He imagined Desire echoed the sentiment; his last memory before slumber was of a dark silhouette perched by the Herald's bed, staring intently.

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otonymous · 5 years ago

Text

Proof Of Life (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: What will it take for you to finally notice Gavin? Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Trigger warnings: breakups, near death experiences, physical aggression, violence Word Count: 2846 words (~14 mins of smut, hurt-comfort) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: Hi everyone! I got a few requests for a NSFW MLQC Gavin story, so here it is! Hope you all enjoy it, and happy reading! 😊

Tagging: @kitsune-mana @shogetsus @illysanna

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Several sharp knocks on your windowpane tell you all you need to know about who you would find once you opened your eyes. But you were glad you remembered to draw the blinds the night before, because the last thing you wanted was for Gavin to see you as you are now: hair a messy nest, eyes swollen and red-rimmed, and yesterday’s outfit a wrinkled mess on your body.

“Why can’t he use the goddamn door like a normal person?!” You think in irritation as you drag yourself out of bed, running a hand over your hair and pulling on a house robe before you snap back the curtains.

Sure enough, there he was, the officer smartly dressed in his uniform and giving off an air of authority despite the nonchalant way he leaned against the ledge of your balcony, a plastic bag in hand. Mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton, you swallow hard before sliding open the glass door.

“Good morning, Gavin. It’s kind of early—“

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

He says, immediately brushing past your shoulder to enter the room. A gentle breeze follows him, ruffling the curtains as he had so often ruffled your hair. And as he casts his gaze on the mess that is your apartment, you shudder to speculate on his thoughts about your current living conditions: lopsided piles of notebooks sprouting across the floor, clothing strewn haphazardly across your unmade bed and couch, and empty cup noodle containers littering the kitchen.

Bringing your hands to your face and wishing you could hide forever behind them, you massage your temples, hoping to ease the building tension that would surely worsen once Gavin opened his mouth to speak the same lines he had been repeating for the past few weeks since —

“Lucien has left. The man is gone, he’s not coming back. And nothing you do is going to change that. So why do you keep torturing yourself like this?”

He turns to look you square in the face, the usual warmth of his eyes replaced by burning indignation on your behalf, flashing with anger that you yourself still could not bear to direct on the man who disappeared without a trace, leaving nothing but an empty apartment and an equally empty promise to never leave your side.

Gavin was right. Of that fact, there was no doubt. But still, you could not help but feel compelled to continue seeking out the dark-haired genius who captured your imagination and stole your heart from the very moment he told you to trust your instincts.

The heart wants what it wants.

And so you threw everything into trying to locate Lucien, foolishly allowing the rest of your life to devolve into little more than subsisting on the barest of necessities.

The officer’s face softens at your silence, broad shoulders dropping as he finally relents and thrusts out the plastic bag he had been holding, the most delicious aroma wafting from within to remind you of your hunger.

“Your favourite breakfast combo from the place up the street: congee and shrimp rice rolls. All those cup noodles can’t be good for you.”

You fight back the sting of tears when you take the bag from him, hoping his sharp eyes will miss the shake of your hands as you open the styrofoam containers, saying,

“Thank you…Gavin.”

Lips tugging up into a small smile, he reaches out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear before saying, “Hurry up and eat. I’ll give you a lift to work.”

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So it was that weeks became months and verdant summer bled crimson into fall, and every time the wind whipped past you on the back of Gavin’s motorbike, your grip on the professor loosened until you learned what it was to let go of another important person in your life.

You had no more leads to follow when it came to Lucien’s whereabouts, and even his peers at the research institute were at a loss to explain the professor’s sudden sabbatical leave.

But through it all, Gavin stayed by your side.

He was there when the last of your hopes had been dashed, fingers intertwining with yours to tentatively squeeze in solidarity as you left Loveland University with more questions than answers. It had been his arms that held you in their firm embrace when you threw that jar against the wall, the glass shattering to litter your apartment floor with tiny folded cranes and even tinier shards of glass. The officer had watched, silent and solemn, as you cried for Lucien one last time, reaching out hardened hands to brush away your tears with the softest of gestures.

The school terror had become your constant companion, and the windblown smell of his denim jacket a source of comfort: warm and familiar whenever Gavin unceremoniously draped it over your shoulders as soon as you showed signs of feeling chilled in dropping temperatures.

But the seasons weren’t the only thing to change.

Little by little, you began to notice things about him that escaped you before: smiles that lit up his face just as he’d turn from your direction, the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks whenever you thanked him for escorting you home. The way you felt to see him linger on the street below your apartment, waiting for you to wave through the window before finally riding off into the night…all despite having seen you to the door.

And each and every time your heart skipped a beat, the flutter scared you. For although you had given up on Lucien, the wound of losing him was still painfully fresh, and it was not lost on you that Gavin had been the one to patiently draw you out from that place of darkness where you had been wallowing.

But what if lightning struck twice?

Would you lose Gavin too, the way you lost Lucien?

The thought was too much to bear — to lose a lover but also a friend — so you chose not to think, ignoring it like you ignored the longing in his hazel eyes every time you shut the door without inviting him in, your fingers tracing the golden ginkgo leaf on your wrist that still held the heat of his touch.

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

It all happened in breathtaking clarity, as if time had slowed enough for you to see Gavin whip between yourself and the man in black — the scent of blood permeating the air as a bullet burned through flesh and nylon before embedding itself into a brick wall.

By the time Minor’s face appeared before you — eyes wide and lips moving a mile a minute — you heard not a word he said, so fixated were you on the crimson marring the pristine white of Gavin’s windbreaker, the radius of this ugly spot growing larger each time his bicep flexed to handcuff the suspect pinned beneath his knees.

Yet, in the resultant commotion, the officer’s eyes sought yours to confirm your well-being even though he had been the one to sustain an injury. And it isn’t until his brows furrow in concern that you realize you had been shaking from head to toe, your body acutely processing your fear before your mind could even catch up to what it was that scared you:

Gavin hadn’t even been wearing his bulletproof vest when he moved to cover you without a second thought.

Minor drapes his jacket over your shoulders, drawing you from your reverie.

“It’s okay bro, I’ve got the boss! You go ahead and take care of that scum…and your arm too! Get to the hospital!”

“Where the hell were you, idiot?! Didn’t I tell you not to leave her side?!”

Minor slinks behind you, trying to hide from Gavin’s scowl.

“I turned around for one second and she was gone, I swear! How was I supposed to know the boss would go running after a little girl crossing the street and get attacked by this loser?”

“Screw up again and it’s your last time!”

“Okay, okay! Whatever you say, bro!”

The exchange between Minor and Gavin was typical, and as a member of this triad of Loveland High alumni, you were usually amused by their antics. Currently, however, you could barely find the strength to speak, let alone laugh.

So you let Minor escort you home in the officer’s stead, craning your neck to stare at Gavin’s retreating figure through the rear window as the car pulled away from the scene of the crime, feeling less shaken by your brush with danger than the one thought that torturously echoed through your mind:

Gavin could have died.

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Patient.

He really was so patient. Much more than you deserved.

For Gavin remained still as a statue as your hand wound about the collar of his white tee, the other scrunched into a fist that beat repeatedly into the hard plane of his chest. Even still, it was from your eyes that tears spilled, ceaseless and hot…eyes that saw only Gavin.

You knew it now, felt it deep in your bones from the moment your fear of losing him stole your reason to turn desolation into blinding fury, one that made you rage the second you saw him at your door. And with one yank on his denim jacket, you had pulled Gavin into your apartment, pushing him until he lost balance and ended up on the couch with you straddling his lap, fists flying with wild abandon.

“What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of me?! Who the hell do you think you are?! Superman? Are you invincible?!”

Thud. Smack. Thud.

The officer sits without reacting, stoically taking every shot you have to deliver.

“Why would you go that far, Gavin?”

The heat of your anger finally dissipating through sore fists, the question leaves your mouth in a whisper — tears dripping down your face to glance off the apple of Gavin’s cheek before they, too, trace the lines of his jaw.

“You know why.”

His voice is low and raspy, and you wilt under the intensity of his gaze, turning your face away before you drown in the depths of his eyes, dark with emotion.

“Don’t look at me, I’m a mess.”

Calloused fingers gently tilt your chin back in his direction, Gavin saying,

“You’re always beautiful…but even more so when you’re crying for me.”

He sweeps a thumb across his cheek, gathering your tears to bring them to his mouth, and you are entranced by the pink tongue sweeping out to taste the salt of your frustration.

“Even your tears are sweet, just like you.”

“Gavi-“

The name barely leaves your lips before it is swallowed up by the soft plushness of his, the officer angling his face in a bid to move even closer, tongue exploring your mouth with an unfathomable hunger that leaves you breathless.

Losing yourself in his kiss, you feel the press of his solid chest against your breasts as he shifts to lay you on the couch beneath him. And when he pulls back to rip the jacket from his shoulders, the white tee thrown off in one frenzied motion, your fingers seek the heat of his skin, desperate for proof of his existence.

Desperate to confirm that Gavin was alive.

He clasps your hands, pressing a reverent kiss to each palm before bringing them to his face, allowing them to slide past his Adam’s apple, down the broad smoothness of his chest, running along the muscular grid of his abdomen…until they stop at the leather belt looped around the tantalizing V that drew your eyes to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Feel me. I’m here with you — always have been and always will be. Don’t be scared. I’m not going anywhere.”

A flood of relief stings your eyes anew, and panic flashes across Gavin’s face for an instant before he bend over you once more, whispering as he kisses your tears away,

“Shhh…it’s okay…it’s gonna be okay…”

Never in your life did you imagine this would happen, that you’d have the boy feared for his pugilistic skills lying between your legs, hands roaming hot and hungry over the curves of your body but, frustratingly, keeping above the silk of your blouse.

Hence, you took it upon yourself to undo the buttons, fixated on the bob of Gavin’s throat as his eyes followed the minute motions of your fingers, the officer’s lips parting in awe to see your breasts heaving with anticipation beneath your bra until that, too, was discarded. His voice reaches out like the touch of a tentative hand when he says,

“This is more than I’ve ever dreamed of, but...are you sure this is what you want?”

Through a rapturous haze, you watch as flecks of gold melt in the warmth of hazel eyes that examine you carefully, searching for any sign of hesitation. And that’s when you knew you didn’t have to hold back.

Wrapping your arms around Gavin’s neck, you draw him closer to whisper in his ear,

“I love you.”

The sudden ruffle of your curtains startles you, as do the papers on your desk that swirl like leaves caught in a fall wind before settling to the ground in a messy pile. And when Gavin gently cups your face to refocus your attention, the last thing you see before his lips seal upon yours is the exhilarated joy that lights his face from within, the officer softly laying his reply onto the corner of your lips:

“I’ve always loved you.”

Biting into your fist, you try to keep your moans from escaping when you look down to see Gavin kneeling on the carpet, strands of silken brown hair tickling your belly with the slightest movement of his head between your legs, his large hands stroking the length of your thighs to leave trails of goosebumps in their wake.

Each time his tongue flattened to run along the pink flesh of your folds, trembling and wet, you slid further down the couch until your legs found the support of Gavin’s shoulders and his hands gripped your buttocks to knead and spread — lips and tongue continuing to taste your arousal with gusto until it smeared shiny across his face.

And when the tension built to reach its apex with every flick of his tongue on your clit, Gavin kept you suspended on that high until he inserted one finger…then two, to curl within your depths and pull the trigger on your climax. You came violently, convulsing around his hand and bucking into his face as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, ripping the moans from your mouth and adding another shade of crimson to his cheeks.

The officer stands, one hand whipping off his belt as the back of the other wipes across his shiny lips. You barely have time to gasp as you take in the sight of his sizeable erection before Gavin is wrapping your trembling legs around his tapered waist.

“I’ve wanted this…”

The heat of his cock is searing as Gavin presses against your pussy, smooth head sliding up and down the length of your folds to gather the arousal that dripped in abundance even as you continued to twitch from your orgasm.

“…wanted you…”

Pressure, as he pushes insistently for entry. The stretch of your skin when you start to take him within your body, accommodating the man who was willing to die for you.

“…for so, so long.”

Gasp.

Your eyes roll back when he finally sheathes himself within you, the officer’s breath coming in pants moist and hot by the side of your face. He hisses through clenched teeth to feel the scrape of your nails down his back before he recovers to say,

“Could you cry for me again?”

With that, Gavin thrusts deeply into you to bury himself to the hilt, each stroke from his powerful hips reaching greater depths than the last until your eyes watered from sheer intensity of sensation, mouth falling open in a silent scream before it is sealed by his lips.

Every bead of sweat that rolled off his shoulders to evaporate from the heat of your skin. Each muffled groan against the shell of your ear. The slippery friction that moved within you to send you to ecstatic, new heights. All these things told you, without a doubt, that Gavin lived.

And when he finally shudders, you spasm to feel the heat of his release, convulsing around him for the second time to draw him closer to you than ever before.

Pressing his forehead to yours as he slowly descended from his high, Gavin says, “It’s true. I meant every word I said.”

You nod, kissing him in response. For the thunderous beat of his heart already told you everything you needed to know:

Gavin is alive. And he is yours.

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Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #MLQC Gavin #mlqc baiqi #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #mlqc smut #fanfiction #my writing #elex

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years ago

Text

Survivors of Unfair Choices (4) | FirstOrder!Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1174

Warning: SW-verse typical violence, minor swearing

With the new location, you were both able to clean off the grime off and refill your canteens at the river. You had just started wiping off mud on both of the droids when Dameron began to take off his uniform. Your eyes widened as he bent over to take his boots off before working on his pants. You quickly looked away, paying close attention to the small grooves on the droid’s design. You dipped the rag in the river before wringing it out, ignoring the rustling of clothes falling next to you until you heard a loud splash. The BB-units squealed, rolling to hide behind you.

“Seriously? It’s freezing ass right now, Dameron!” you shouted, jumping up and looking for something to dry off with.

Dameron laughed, splashing water towards you. “Come on! I’m sure you’ve had some fun back in your little ransack base,” he taunted, “Infinitly more than on Starkiller base, anyways. Besides, it’s warmer today.”

You covered your eyes with your hands, not knowing how much clothing he had stripped off and not wanting to risk checking. “Well, I’m from a dry planet, so this is a no for me.”

“And I’m from a tropical planet. You think I enjoyed the cold last night? I’m making the most of the warmth while we still have it.”

“Well, that’s your business, though, isn’t it?”

“Suit yourself,” he said before splashing away.

You dropped your hands from your face as soon as it seemed he was far away down river. You look down at the two BB-units who were swiveling their small heads back and forth between you and Dameron before looking at each other.

“How’s the signal going, buddy?” you asked BB.

They shook their head, then looking at BB-8. The two droids exchanged a few beeps until BB-8 also shook their head.

“No luck for you, too, huh?” You placed a hand on your hip and smirked. “Since we’re going to be staying here longer than planned, how about telling embarrassing stories about Dameron to me?”

BB-8 let out a long trill, thinking for a moment before nodding.

You clapped, heading towards the camp to retrieve your tools. “Great, let’s get some food while we’re at it.”

Dameron came back from his swim, wearing only his pants as he used the sun to dry off the rest of his body. You didn’t want to admit that your eyes roamed over his body, the glint of a metal object hanging around his neck drawing your attention before you clear your throat.

“Had fun?” you asked, avoiding eye contact as you stoke the fire.

He hummed. “I finally figured out why you never shot me in the back before,” Dameron said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?” you asked, humoring him.

“You like to stare at my ass,” he said proudly. BB-8 let out a scandalized trill and looked at Dameron before whipping their head towards you.

You scoffed, your face heating up. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I am very proud of my ass and there’s no shame in admitting that you did look a second longer than you should,” he continued to tease you.

“Is this what the First Order usually talk about during lunch breaks?”

“The opposite, actually. Everyone’s all in uniform and armor.” He sat down next to you and finally put his shirt on.

“How tragic,” you said sarcastically, “that plain uniform is preventing them from appreciating your bum.”

Dameron laughed, the second time you’ve ever heard this sound from him and it made you smile. First Order officers were usually seen as stoic and bleak and right now, he didn’t seem like a commander of the First Order. He was just Poe Dameron.

So much for an in and out job. The First Order somehow found out about the informant’s location and stormed through the village, taking you prisoner while your BB-unit was able to escape along with the map. At least you hope they did.

You blinked your eyes into focus, moving your neck slowly to ease the cramp that formed while you were unconscious. A trickle of blood ran down your forehead and from your nose, but that was the least of your worries. It was an important mission. And you messed up.

The doors to the torture room slid open, a heavy presence entered in black robes and a mask. This must be Kylo Ren. You heard many stories about the Knight of Ren that worked with the First Order, but the ones you trusted the most were from the general. What exactly had happened for him to turn to the darkside? From what you understood, unlike the stormtroopers and some of the officers, he had a choice.

He stood there for a moment, his emotionless mask staring at you as you felt pain in your head. You glared at him, trying your best to shield your mind from his attempted probing. He sensed what you were trying to do, lifting a gloved hand over your forehead and suddenly a force that seemed to be sucking your memories out of your mind lurched you forward as much as the restraints allowed you.

“No!” you shouted with gritted teeth.

You tried to build walls up, but the amount of power he was using felt like you were able to stack a couple of bricks before he knocked them down. You couldn’t keep this up, but you couldn’t let the First Order know of the location, either.

The moment you began to pant, he chuckled, muffled from the voice modulator in his mask. He knew you were growing weak. If you weren’t able to block him out, you could at least force him to see something.

You thought about Leia. About the time you first joined the Resistance and she had welcomed you with open arms. She was stern, but loving. You thought about the family you had found and how Leia was practically the mother figure you wished you still had. You thought about the times where Leia would confide in you, not in detail, but it was enough to get an idea of what was going through her mind. She wanted her son, Ben Solo, back.

Kylo Ren growled, yanking his hand away. You gasped for air, sagging in your restraints at the temporary relief. His breathing grew heavy as he paced around the small space before he whipped his lightsaber out, activating it inches from your face. The lightsaber crackled an angry and unstable red, the heat radiating off of it and threatening to burn you.

“Tell me where it is!” he demanded.

“Where what is? You’re going to have to be more specific,” you jibed.

“The map! The map of Luke Skywalker’s location!”

You faked a gasp. “Oh, so that’s what the mission was.”

He paused, reaching a gloved hand out. You braced yourself, thinking he was attempting to read your mind again, but instead, he went to your neck and yanked the thin chain out of hiding, revealing the ring.

“Interesting.”

Taglist: @megzdoodle @psychoticobsession @thescarletknight2014 @marrypuffsstuff @theoralpha @daniellajocelyn @badwolf-212 @gleigh42

#Survivors of Unfair Choices #First Order!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader #First Order!Poe Dameron #poe dameron x reader #Star wars imagine

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unicyclehippo · 5 years ago

Note

beaujes + 18 "In my defense, it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time"

‘what part about it seemed brilliant, exactly?’ beau huffs, sprinting down the street just ahead of jester. it’s clear that she’s slowed down for her, because jester knows she’s ordinarily much faster, and she searches quickly left and right at the next junction for any sign of crownsguard.

‘well, you know,’ jester wheedles, trying to remember exactly what it was that had got her so excited. truth was, everything has been so stressful lately, so tense as they waited for the inevitable knife lady to come and fuck their shit up, that when jester had seen the open door to the wizard tower, well, it had seemed like a good idea! go in, have a quick look around, maybe leave a few pamphlets to the traveller in out of the way locations where some bored students might find them... ‘how the hell was i supposed to know they would have the place alarmed?’

beau laughs, a bit raggedly. ‘they’re wizards, jes! they’re all as paranoid as caleb!’

‘i don’t think that’s possible,’ jester denies. ‘caleb is—oof!’ she loses her words and breath as beau grabs her hand and pulls, yanking her out of the side street and into an alley. ‘beau—‘

‘i saw them, they’re coming this way,’ she gasps, eyes wide.

jester feels her pulse jump in her neck and she grimaces, eyes flickering around the alley. ‘i can’t teleport us, i’m out of spells,’

‘and i dragged us down a dead end,’ beau drawls. ‘good work. stupid. okay—jes, do you trust me?’ she asks, reversing her cloak from blue to brown and tugging at her bun, letting her hair topple down around her shoulders. ‘jes!’

‘what? huh? yes—yes, i trust you, beau, of course i do!’

beau gives her an odd, strained smile at that and nods. weirdly gentle, she takes one of jester’s hands in hers. glancing toward the mouth of the alley, she grows tense.

jester can hear them now as well—the tramp of boots on stone, the raised shout of orders—and she whimpers, clutches hard at beau’s hand.

‘no, hey, it’s gonna be okay, i won’t let anything happen to you,’ beau whispers, leaning in. she’s very close now, backing jester up against the rough brick wall. her eyes flick to the exit again, and then her other hand cups jester’s cheek and she whispers, ‘trust me.’ her breath is warm against jester’s lips and smells of...sugar and crisp apple, like the toffeed treats they’d picked up earlier in the day. and then she is kissing her.

it’s gentle. sweet. literally. when beau pulls back a fraction to ask, ‘okay?’ at the stupidest moment because, hello? crownsguard looking for them? jester licks her lips on instinct and can taste not toffee but caramel and it is oddly endearing to think of beau going back for seconds, to try a different flavour. jester pulls her back in, her heart pounding as she hears an unfamiliar voice announce,

‘sir! there are two people in the alley—hey, you! have you seen two traitors to the guard come this way?’

beau keeps her arm raised protectively and pulls jester’s head toward her shoulder. her hand, jester now realises, has been placed so it covers most of jester’s face on that side from anyone looking into the alley and her first thought is smart and the second is a really weird, strange, unexpected drop of ice into her gut as she realises oh. right. this is fake. she goes with it, hugging beau tightly as if they were two lovers caught kissing by a guardsman. and really, she thinks, it isn’t far off. except obviously for the lovers part.

‘fuck off,’ beau calls to the guard. ‘do i look like i’ve seen shit?’

jester tenses. a second later, she feels beau’s other hand press at her waist and rub gently as if to reassure her.

a moment passes, excruciatingly long, and then, ‘you’ll want to be careful, miss. dangerous folk out and about.’

steps fade away.

beau stays where she is, hugging jester, turning her head to mimic as though they are kissing still, until they are both sure—ears straining, hearts pounding—that no one is following up on the two strangers in the alley.

‘i think we’re good,’ beau rasps, and she eases jester back.

‘um.’ jester can’t quite look her friend in the eyes so she looks literally everywhere else—surprised when she sees what looks like blood smeared across her dress. ‘what—beau, is this—are you?’

beau bats her hand away, chucks a crooked grin up in the face of jester’s concern. ‘don’t worry about it,’ she insists. ‘i just missed one, that’s all. lucky shot.’

jester recalls, then, a moment when they had been running from the tower. when the stone archers had first been shooting at them, and a volley had come perilously close to them. jester could swear she had felt one as it nearly grazed against her—somewhere vital—but it must have been a trick of her imagination because nothing had happened.

‘did you catch it?’ jester asks.

beau looks away. ‘i think we can make a break for it now, get back to the others.’

‘did you catch one that was gonna hit me, and you got hit instead?’ she isn’t going to be put off. she takes beau by the shoulders and, with surprising ease spins them so she’s the one pressed up against the brick work—either beau is hurt worse than she looks, or she likes to be manhandled, and both options make jester’s stomach swoop again. ‘beau—‘

‘i made a split second decision, okay?’ beau confesses, spitting out the words and not meeting her eyes. ‘i could see them coming and i knew you had already been hurt and i wasn’t going to let you get hit like that, i couldn’t carry you and run fast enough to get away, so yeah okay i caught the one that was gonna hit you. i couldn’t—i wasn’t gonna let you get hurt on my watch, okay?’ she ends on a stubborn, almost angry note. chin jutting out. cranky scowl daring jester to disagree.

jester’s heart slams against the cage of her ribs. ‘okay,’ she whispers. she’s not sure what else to say. she definitely can’t put words to the dozen thoughts that had just occurred to her—chief among them oh no, and wait, do i like beau? and she saved my life and oh this isn’t cute at all it happens in a yucky dirty alleyway i am not telling my mama this version—and so instead jester lifts her hands to beau’s cheeks.

and panics.

‘my hero,’ she pretends to swoon, laughing a little, and beau grins that sharp grin that sits so well on her face but holds only the barest scrape of humour in it. there are smiles jester likes more and she makes a stern note to herself, and the traveller if he is watching, to be sure to earn those better smiles. the goofy ones, the sweet ones, and—jester realises as beau pushes away from the wall and folds their hands together, moving to search left and right for any trace of the crownsguard remaining—those smiles that are saved just for her, just for jester, that fill her with warmth. small, tucked into the left corner of beau’s lips. scrunched up small, as though shoving it aside, embarrassed, like jester might scrunch up a bad drawing.

they walk in silence back to the inn. and when jester is done examining beau’s gut shot, and stitching her up, she puts a hand on beau’s shoulder while she is trapped on the bed recovering and presses a kiss to that corner of her mouth.

‘thank you, beau.’

the other girl stutters, stammers for a moment, cheeks filling with colour. and oh, she is not smooth or suave or charming. in fact, she is often none of those things. she has roughed herself up around the edges, cut away the pieces that had kept her smooth and delicate and easily handled. it isn’t at all what jester had expected; after all, everyone knows that love is dark flowing hair and glinting rings on fingers and charm and eyes deep like the ocean that speak of desire and love—but maybe the hair can be brown and some of it can flow but some of it can be chopped away into a cool pattern, and maybe the fingers aren’t bejewelled because they are adorned with scars, because they give their rings away to friends and their jade bracelets to children, and maybe their eyes are a little more like the sky than the sea, but still look like desire, like love. maybe.

#cr tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill #worked in two of my favourite tropes there #ur welcome to guess what they are

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