#I would have thought he’d have left the picture and a long winded recording out where kk could see it immediately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

farfromharry · 4 years ago

Text

Just like momma | Arvin Russell fic

Summary: The Russell boy with the bad reputation is completely smitten with the girl who’s just as angel-like as everyone remembers his momma to be.

Word count - 3,435

Warnings - language

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

“Arvin, stop being silly,” you huffed. He’d been going on the entire car ride about how if you didn’t like the food his Grandma was cooking then all you had to do was say. He’d already made the offer of taking you to a diner after you left to give you a ‘nicer’ meal. “I love Emma’s food, a lot of people do. There’s nothing better than a home cooked meal.”

The car finally came to a stop, Arvin leaping out and rushing around to your side so he could be a gentleman before you could even put your hand on the car door.

He threw his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple with a lingering smirk on his lips.

“I could name a few things,” he muttered in response to your earlier comment. You slapped his chest scoldingly, telling him not to be so mean to the woman that raised him. “‘m just kidding, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, letting him pull you closer to his chest to press kisses onto the top of your head. You wouldn’t admit it to him but you did enjoy being engulfed in his intoxicating scent.

“I guess I should say g’bye now,” he said, pulling you out of your daze. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at your boyfriend. He motioned with his hand to the small redhead who was running over to you, already beaming at the sight of her older brother’s girlfriend who she adored.

“Y/N!” the girl yelled, taking your hand and already stealing you away from her brother. Arvin huffed playfully, catching your eye as you were pulled over to the group of girls playing on the patch of grass opposite the Russell’s lawn.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at you as you mouthed the words help me. This happened more or less every time you came over to Arvin’s home.

It’s not that you didn’t adore the eight year old, you did, but you came to spend time with all of Arvin’s family for a change.

The boy now had to go find something else to do to entertain himself while you were immersed in the world of pretend with a group of eight year olds.

He headed inside the house to the kitchen where he could already smell his grandma’s cooking, emerging in the room with a wave to his Uncle. He placed a kiss on Emma’s head as a greeting. “Hey, Grandma.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Barely even a minute inside and she already had him setting the table for the five of them for dinner, Earskell laughing at the boy who almost had a pouty face.

He laid down the plates in the seats you all normally sat in, moving next to take the cutlery off of his Grandma.

“Where’s that pretty lady of yours?” his Uncle asked, noticing Arvin’s solo entrance that was usually accompanied by you.

“Nora’s got her again.” He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head like he didn’t expect any less from the child. Just like Arvin was used to it, so were all of the Russells, Lenora barely let an hour go by without bringing you up at least once in the house, especially if she hadn’t seen you for a while.

He kept sending longing looks out of the windows, looking at you and the way your skirt flowed in the wind as you chased Lenora around the grass.

Emma noticed, laughing quietly to herself.

“Go on,” she sighed, shooing him out of the door to go and save you from his minx of a sister. He did just that, rushing outside until he was by the steps of the porch. Arvin didn’t want to interrupt yet, wanting to spend a few minutes admiring you as you laughed with the group of girls. He thought you looked so pretty when you laughed, especially with the way the sunlight beamed onto your face, and the way the wind blew your hair away from your face to give him a better view, almost like it was doing it for him.

He didn’t know how long he was just there watching you with that same dumb, crooked smile on his face the entire time, but it was long enough for his Grandma to come outside with an update on dinner.

“She’s just like your momma,” Emma whispered, leaning against the doorframe, a little way behind Arvin. His big brown eyes, the ones that still resembled that little boy she remembers like yesterday, stared at her so softly.

“Really?” he asked. “I don’t really remember her.”

He sounded so sad, and it made Emma’s heart ache. She walked towards him, holding her arms out to engulf the boy in a hug. He was happy to let her, her head resting on his shoulder lovingly.

“She’s so kind, so pure.” The male couldn’t help but smile a little bit, holding the older woman’s hand against his heart while he watched you play with his younger sister.

Arvin wasn’t shy when it came to admiring you, every chance he could get his eyes on you he would. Emma found it so heartwarming to see, the boy so outwardly showing you this love and affection that had been built up inside of him since he was a child himself.

“I like her Arvy. Think she’s the perfect girl for you.”

Hearing those words from one of the most important people in his life felt like everything fell into place for him. You truly were the woman he was in love with, and he may be young but he couldn’t picture ever loving anyone as much as he did you.

His Grandma placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his arm as she turned to walk away. “Dinner’s in ten, make sure you get them both inside on time, mister.” Emma left him alone after that, heading back inside to continue her cooking.

Arvin still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he wasn’t even sure he could wipe that lovesick smile off of his face.

You could feel his gaze basically burning holes into the side of your head, turning your face away from the sun to lock eyes with the pretty boy.

You flashed him a smile that made his knees weak, a blush blossoming on the apples of his cheeks.

You excused yourself from the group of girls for just a few minutes to go and see what your boyfriend wanted, jogging up the path until you were almost in his reach.

“Hi,” you mumbled, pecking his lips cheerfully. His hands drifted to the middle of your back, holding you near him so you couldn’t run away too quickly, he just wanted to hold you for a little while.

“Grandma says dinner’s in ten. Should probably start heading inside, get cleaned up,” he said. You hummed, resting your head on his chest. His large hand rubbed up and down your back, his lips finding refuge on your forehead.

“You get Lenora, I’ll help Emma?” you bargained, feeling as though you’d only get roped back into playing with the girls if you went back there.

“What if I say no?” he hummed, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a teasing smirk. You scoffed, pulling back from his warm chest to look into those even warmer eyes.

“I mean, I could always go have dinner at Gene Dinw-“ Arvin cut you off by pressing his lips onto yours before you could even finish the guys name. You laughed into the kiss, the lovely sound making Arvin break into a grin himself.

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” he rambled, giving you one last kiss before he walked past you and over to his sister. After the first few times she ignored his calls he gave up trying, choosing instead to throw her over his shoulder and carry her inside himself.

You rolled your eyes at how immature he was, heading inside with an amused smile. You greeted Emma with a hug and Arvin’s Uncle with a smile, helping to dish out her cooking onto everyone’s plates.

“Arvin! Put me down,” Lenora whined, kicking her legs frantically. There was a chorus of laughs as Arvin made a rather grand entrance with the girl wiggling around on his shoulder. Your heart soared at the warm smile on his face that he always refused to show.

He let the girl back down onto her feet, receiving a scolding hit from her in response. You giggled as you watched catching your boyfriend’s eye.

“What are you giggling at, pretty girl?” You squealed as his hands grabbed your hips, pulling your back into his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his lips meeting your cheek once before he pulled away and took his seat at the table. You pulled the cap from his head, placing it beside him on the table so he looked more presentable, messing up his hair while you were at it.

He grabbed your hand to stop you, planting a kiss onto your palm as you sat down in the seat beside him.

“Now, who wants to say the Lord’s prayer?” Emma asked. You saw Arvin roll his eyes, but a swift kick to the shin underneath the table was enough to have him quietly apologising.

“I think Arvin would,” you said, grinning widely at the boy who looked at you as if you’d just stabbed him in the back.

“I’ll get you back for that.”

»»——⍟——««

Emma gave you all a break between dinner and dessert, shooing you out of the kitchen so she could focus without Arvin constantly trying to pick at her cake mixture.

“Will you two get outta here,” she said, slapping away Arvin’s greedy hand once again. You chuckled, tugging your boyfriend away from his poor Grandma, letting her cook in peace.

“D’you wanna dance with me, darlin’,” he asked, motioning to the old, beat up record player they had. You didn’t know why Arvin was suddenly in such a good mood but you weren’t complaining. You pretended to think about it for a second, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to take over your face.

“I should really be helpin’ Emma.” He didn’t listen at all. He fiddled with one of the records, hiding it with his body so you couldn’t see the name, letting it be a surprise to you.

The sweet sounds of Lonesome Town played through the record player, filling the room with the soft voice of Ricky Nelson. Arvin looked over his shoulder with an inviting smirk settled on his lips, holding his hands out to you with a teasing shake of his hips to the beat.

You snorted, shaking your head at his sudden goofy persona. “C’mere pretty darlin’, dance with me.”

There was no way you could resist, slipping your hands into Arvin’s much larger ones. The boy pulled you into his chest, his hands laying respectively on your waist while your own snaked around his neck and weaved into the mess of hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of you really knew how to dance, so you took to simply swaying in time to the music, your foreheads resting against each other. You could hear Arvin faintly singing along under his breath, your heart swelling at this vulnerability he was showing you.

“You ready?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, your question answered before you could even ask.

You let out a loud squeal as he dipped you, holding onto you tightly so you knew he wouldn’t drop you. He pressed a chaste kiss on your lips before helping you back up to your previous stance, noses almost brushing from your close proximity.

“Almost gave a damn heart attack, Arv,” you scolded. He still had that boyish grin on his face that you wanted to wipe off. With a few pokes of his fingers to your ribs though you were laughing along with him, rolling your eyes at your immature boyfriend.

The song finished too quickly for your liking, leaving the sounds of your laughter to fill the room instead.

This was your favourite kind of moment to share with your boyfriend, those romantic gestures that no one would ever expect from the towns ‘bad boy’ Russell boy. They were the ones you held closest to your heart.

Emma’s heart was warm as she watched you both dance in her living room from where she was cleaning up in the kitchen. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her Grandson this happy.

“What’re you two doin’?” you heard Lenora’s curious voice before you saw her, seeing the small red haired girl peak her head out from behind her older brother.

You grinned, thinking this could be your opportunity to escape Arvin and go help Emma for a little bit, feeling bad that she’d been doing everything on her own.

“Why don’ you dance with Arvin, hunny?” you asked. He shot you a look, a small frown on his lips as the boy had the idea he was going to get to keep dancing with you, just to another song.

“Y/N,” he tried. You shook your head, watching as Lenora picked out one of the few records on the counter. He sucked it up rather than throwing a tantrum that was unnecessary.

“Arvin I, I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, looking at her brother shyly. He still smiled down at her, guiding her feet to stand on his shoes, showing that he was going to guide her.

“That boy is completely smitten with you,” Emma whispered, flashing you a smile when she saw the way you got all shy, trying to deny her obvious statement. “And by the looks of it, it’s a two way thing.”

»»——⍟——««

“Crap, look at the time,” you whined, glancing at the clock that rested in the living room. It was much too late for you to be out away from home, your parents were going to kill you. “I should be headin’ home.”

The tired Arvin who you’d been leaning on beside you let out a grunt of protest, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. His grip tightened and you were sure he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere tonight.

“Jus’ stay, your folks won’t mind.”

It was deeply tempting, his fingers running through your hair and his warm body cuddling yours, you didn’t really want to move at all.

You hummed. “I can’t, not again.”

“Yes you can.”

It was clear that Arvin wasn’t going to budge, so you gave in, accepting that you’d get yelled at by your momma tomorrow. The couch beneath you was growing uncomfortable though, so you were about to insist if you stay, you’re staying in his bed with him.

“Arvin?” you asked, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He whispered a tired ‘yeah’, prompting you to continue. “Can we at least head to bed?”

He sighed, practically forcing his eyes open. The boy took a few minutes to regain himself and his surroundings before he actually gave you an answer to your question. “Yeah, come on.”

Like the gentleman that he is, he helped you up from your comfy position, making sure you were stable on your feet before he let go of you in any way.

His eyes landed on his younger sister who was pretty much passed out not too far away. You chuckled to yourself, noting how peaceful she looked, something you rarely got a lot of in Knockemstiff.

“You head on in, I've got her,” he promised, carefully lifting the child into his arms. You nodded your head, placing a kiss on top of Lenora’s head. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

You were off to Arvin’s room without another word, your tired body craving the boy’s soft, warm bed. It might not have been the biggest bed in the world but that meant you two had to cuddle even closer together to fit, and you loved it.

Lenora’s room was the closest to the living room so within minutes Arvin was tucking her into her bed. He sat down beside her on the bed when he noticed her eyes fluttering open, knowing the girl was gonna need at least some conversation for her to fall back to sleep.

“Arvy?” He hummed quietly, nuzzling his nose against the side of her head affectionately. “I wanna be like Y/N when I grow up.”

He felt his heart swell, looking at the girl like she’d just given him the world. It truly did mean the world to him that she loved you so much, because he completely adored you.

“Then you’ll be a great woman, Nora.” He could gush about you any day of the week, choosing to keep it short this time for the sake of the sleepy girl.

“She’s gonna be a good momma some day.” Her words managed to catch him off guard, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “What d’you mean by that?” She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

“If you two ever have any babies, she’s gonna be such a good momma, just like your momma.” Arvin’s heart ached at the words coming out of his sister’s mouth. How did she know anything about Arvin’s mom? But he also blushed a little at the mention of the two of you having babies together.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before, but picturing a tiny you and him made him feel all giddy and nervous inside.

“Like my momma?” he questioned.

“Grandma talks about her all the time, she sounds perfect,” she explained. He smiled softly, short images of the bits of his old family he could remember.

“Yeah, she was,” he trailed off. He knew he’d get emotional if he continued on talking about her, so he decided to quickly put a stop to it and let Lenora head to sleep.

“Get some sleep,” he said, placing a kiss on top of her head. He made sure the blankets were tucked right underneath her chin so she wouldn’t get cold before he turned off her lamp.

“G’night Nora.” He pushed himself up off of her bed and started heading to the door. “Goodnight Arvin.”

On his way to his room he did one check on his Grandma, making sure she didn’t need anything, before he headed straight for you.

He could see you already tucked up comfortably in his bed, assuming you’d taken the liberty to change into some of his clothes before you did so.

“What took you so long?” you whined, missing your boyfriend’s warmth. He grinned to himself, pulling his shirt off of his body.

“Was jus’ talkin’ to Nora for a little bit,” he said, slipping on a plain white shirt in place of his other one. You hummed, watching as he walked around the small room doing various things. It felt as though he was trying to avoid getting in his bed and you were growing impatient.

“Well hurry, I miss you.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulled back the covers. “You just saw me, darlin’.” You groaned, burying your head in his chest when you could, your arms snaking around his torso to hold him as close as possible to you.

“Shut up.”

“‘s not very nice.” This time it was you rolling your eyes. The idea of sleep began to seem more and more appealing to you, letting your eyes flutter shut as any chatter between you and Arvin died down.

It was quiet for a little while, the whole was dead quiet, and Arvin didn’t know if you were asleep or awake as he traced small circles and patterns on your hip with his thumb.

“I love you, Y/N, so damn much. D’you know that?” Your head was tucked under his chin, allowing you to press a chaste kiss to the skin of his neck, a sign that you were still awake; but barely.

“I do,” you said, breath fanning over his warm skin. You felt his hand glide up until his fingers were threading through your hair, the boy planting a kiss on your hairline. “I love you too, Arvin.”

He waited for you to fall asleep after that, he always waited for you to fall asleep. There was something about knowing you were completely calm and safe that relaxed him.

He felt how your breathing was much more even and your body basically melted into him, all signs that you were out for the night. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

arvin russell taglist → @seutarose @theliterarymess @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @siriuslyslyslytherin @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @felicityparkers @quxxnxfhxll @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @bi-lmg @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream

#tom holland #arvin russell fluff #arvin russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x reader #tom holland fluff

1K notes · View notes

powdermelonkeg · 3 years ago

Text

Secrets in the Breeze

"What do you think it is?"

Several sets of eyes fell on the tablet Hyrule had unearthed, pondering its use. Legend studied the pattern critically. "Hmm..." He reached down and wiped away some dirt. "...It looks like song magic."

"Those aren't notes I recognize..." Sky said with a frown. “Are you sure?”

“No. But that’s my best guess until I can study it better.”

Hyrule reached for his recorder. “Well, we can find out pretty quickly, right?”

Time held out a hand to stop him. He gave the strange tablet a thoughtful look. "...Everyone, stand back."

The other four in the hunting party quickly gave him distance as he pulled out his indigo ocarina. The marks looked a little different, but...Drawing in a breath, he lifted the instrument to his lips.

The other heroes watched in anticipation.

...Silence.

Time frowned, glancing around the area. “...Did anyone notice anything happening?”

“I don’t think so.” Wild paused, peering at the sky outside the cavern. “Not unless you have a song for causing rain.”

“I do. This isn’t it.”

“Wait, really?”

Time offered a small smile. “A conversation for another time. Let’s get back before the others decide to come looking for us.”

“Do you think they decided to cook something themselves?” Hyrule asked, grabbing his game bag.

Sky scrunched up his nose. “Goddess, I hope not. I can still taste that...reekfish thing.”

Wild raised his hand. “I liked it.”

“You eat rocks. You don’t get to judge what tastes good.”

As the others went ahead, Legend glanced back at the strange tablet. After a moment’s consideration, he wrenched it free of the earth and tucked it under his arm.

It needed to be studied further.

“There you are!” Warriors exclaimed, halfway through putting up the oil tarp for the rain. “We were just about to get a search party ready.”

“He means he was about to go running off after you,” Twilight said, giving his well-polished counterpart a side-eye, then shook his head. “Anyways, we’re all hungry. What took you?”

Hyrule rubbed the back of his head. “Secret cave.” He gave a nod to Wild. “He spotted some fragile rocks and wanted to blow them up.”

“Find anything?”

“Yeah, actually.” Legend held out the tablet. “Song magic script. Do any of you guys recognize this?”

Twi, Four, and Wars all frowned as they looked at the markings, but Wind lit up instantly. He threw his hand in the air. “I do!” he exclaimed. “That’s 4/4 time; it’s conductors notes!”

Time raised an eyebrow. “Conductor’s notes?”

“Uh-huh. It’s how song magic works on the Great Sea.” Wind tilted his head to the side. “Though, I don’t know this song. What is it?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Legend said, sitting down by the fire. “Think you can play a tune for us?”

Wind’s eye’s shone, and he pulled out his silver baton, looking to Time for confirmation. “Can I?”

The older hero frowned, considering. “...Not this close to the fire. Or to bad weather. For all we know, it’s a Lyric of Lightning or something equally as dangerous.”

Wind’s shoulders slumped, and Four patted his back. “Cheer up,” he said. “You can still try it out tomorrow. Besides,” he flashed the younger hero a smile, “we should eat before it rains, right? I’m hungry, aren’t you?”

“...Yeah,” Wind relented. He gave one last wistful look at the tempo pattern.

Soon, he told himself. Soon, I’ll learn your secrets.

Rain pattered outside the heroes’ shelter, the soothing sound and calm scent of petrichor letting even the most troubled of them sleep undisturbed, for once.

Well...almost all of them.

Wind managed the 2 AM watch at the edge of camp, eyeing Legends tools and trying to coax himself out of the temptation to try the new song. It had been so long since he’d run into a tablet like that; the thrill of new abilities or hidden passages was a siren’s call to the young adventurer.

Up, down, up, right. It was so simple.

What could it do?

Wind found himself fantasizing about the possibilities. Maybe it calls birds, he thought. Or summons fairies, or lets you talk to rocks. He glanced up at the stormclouds. Or maybe the old man’s right and it’s a lightning song. How cool would that be?

He pictured it; calling down lightning like one of the mages of legend, with just a swish of the Wind Waker. He could take out entire monster camps in one fell swoop!

His eyes drifted back to the tablet by Legend’s bag.

...If it’s really a lightning song, then it won’t work if we wait for the storm to clear, Wind thought to himself, pulling out his baton.

He needed to try it out.

Just to test it. Time would understand, right?

Stealthily, he crept over and grabbed the stone, carefully pulling it over to his post at the tarp’s edge, and stood in front of it. The Wind Waker sparkled with magic intent.

The stone shimmered, triangle carvings lighting up; orange, yellow, orange, blue. Light bled through the cracks, and—

—it crumbled to dust.

Wind’s jaw dropped.

...Legend was going to kill him.

He shoved the Wind Waker back into his bag hastily, trying to keep calm. This is fine, right? If he doesn’t say anything, then nobody can blame him, and Legend could chalk it up to age! Relics break all the time!

...Except Time’s disapproving frown would crack Wind for sure. There was no evading that; it was almost as bad as when his grandma gave him the look of disappointment. He was doomed.

Ping!

Wind’s ears twitched, momentarily distracted from his crisis by the sound. A soft purple glow caught his eye.

Ping!

The Master Sword gave another call, the sliver of visible blade pulsing with lavender light among Sky’s things.

Wind stared at the sacred sword, uncertain. “...What is it?” he whispered.

Ping!

He reached out to take it, then hesitated.

Sky was going to kill him too.

...No. He couldn’t, right? The Master Sword was just as much Wind’s as anyone else here; besides, he’d just borrow it. Sky could have it back. He reached out for the blade.

Ping!

Four shifted in his sleep, and Wind froze, staring at the shorter hero. If the sword woke anyone up before he could fix the tablet situation, he was toast.

Ping!

Panicking, Wind snatched the sword up and ran outside, trying to silence it before it could make any more noise. He would deal with the consequences later, when the others woke up at a normal time. Once he was safely in the white noise of rainfall, Wind drew the blade. “Alright, what is it?” he demanded, holding it level with his eyes as if he could scold it. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Ping, ping, ping—

He frowned as it began to beep faster, lowering it. “Come on, I can’t deal with-”

Ping! Ping!

He paused, then lifted it up again.

Ping, ping, ping—

He lowered it.

Ping! Ping!

Back up.

Ping, ping, ping—

Wind tilted his head curiously. Experimentally, he spun in a slow circle.

Ping, ping, ping ping ping PINGPINGPING ping ping—

“Are you...trying to show me something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Watching it closely, he pointed the sword in the direction that caused the most noise and light.

Into the forest.

He glanced back at camp. If he stayed behind, they could all go after whatever this was together...after he got a scolding for breaking Legend’s stuff, and endangering the camp, and not listening to the old man...

Yeah, no. Forest it is.

Sky rolled over in his sleep, his dreams filled with endless skies and blue loftwings. Clouds rolled in over the picnic of pumpkin soup he was having with Zelda.

Fragrant, but suffocating clouds. He couldn’t breathe.

He bolted awake, fighting whatever was cutting off his air and defeating the tangled sailcloth in a heroic and not-at-all frantic wrestling match. His eyes fell on the white fabric as he caught his breath.

...He should stop wearing this thing to bed.

With a sigh, he unpinned it from his shoulders and went to wrap it around Fi. If he couldn’t have the comforts of home, at least she could. He reached for the blade—

—and grasped nothing but air.

With a frown, the hero fumbled for his tinderbox and lit a match, struggling a moment to make a spark in the damp storm air, then looked around for his trusty blade. The longer he searched, the more he could feel ice creep into his veins; he even rifled through the luggage of the usual borrowers of the Master Sword.

“Sky?”

His attention snapped over to the source of the voice. Time was looking at him with an eyebrow raised, bleary-eyed and confused. “What are you doing?”

Sky swallowed the panicked lump in his throat. “The Master Sword’s missing.”

Time sat up sharply, wide awake in an instant as adrenaline shot through him. He quickly did a headcount.

Eight. One short.

Kid-sized bootprints left the camp’s edge, pressed into the fresh mud in a perfect trail.

Wind ran through the woods, following wherever the sword led him. The faster he figured out what was going on, the faster he could get back. And if he found something, that would make things better, right? He’d even let Legend keep some of the treasure, as a peace offering.

The forest, though, seemed to have no end to it, stretching high above his head, with shadows reaching out from all directions. He remembered hearing about something like this from Hyrule—the Lost Woods, which spat you out the way you came from if you made a wrong turn in them. He’d never heard of such a thing on the Great Sea, but then again, the ocean wasn’t exactly known for its vast woodland.

Finally, he reached a clearing, the sword giving a continuous ringing noise to indicate that he’d hit his dowsing mark. And, standing in the middle of it, was a weathered stone wall, overgrown with vines. He could faintly see something scrawled behind the foliage.

Narrowing his eyes, Wind channeled all the magic power he could into the Master Sword’s spin attack.

“HYAH!”

The heroes stopped in their tracks at the noise. Hyrule sheltered his candle from the rain carefully. “Was that-”

“He’s here.” Time said, quickly breaking into a jog. “Come on, we can’t lose pace now. The Lost Woods can do awful things to you if you’re not careful.”

Wind shook his head, quickly getting rid of the stars in his vision. He’d forgotten how disorienting a Hurricane Spin could be.

It had done the job well, though. The vines were nothing but chopped salad now, and the carvings behind the stone were clear as day. Six conductor’s notes stared Wild in the face, begging to be played.

The hero’s fingers tingled; this felt like the start of an adventure, one that didn’t start with a kidnapping and cannonfire.

Drawing himself up, he pulled out his baton, and began to play the magic tune.

This one was different from the first. It felt...familiar, somehow. It wasn’t something he’d ever played before, and yet...

The music carried his thoughts away from him. He found himself conducting from his heart, like when he’d played with Medli and Makar, swept up in the energy the song game off. As he ran out of notes to orchestrate, he heard an earsplitting CRACK, and his eyes flew open.

The wall had crumbled to nothingness, like the tablet had. In its wake, however, a shining blueish pedestal sat, magic spiraling outwards from its center like a spring flower.

Ping!

Wind looked at the Master Sword, tucking the Wind Waker away. He smiled fondly. “Just like old times, huh?” Giving it a playful twirl, he walked over to the pedestal, holding the sword’s hilt in both hands. “I wonder what’s going to look like this time. Are you going to get more powerful?” His eyes shone, imagining the others’ faces at bringing an even stronger Master Sword back with him. Taking a deep breath, he stabbed the blade down into its newest resting place, confident that he could handle whatever boss or dungeon this unlocked.

“LINK!!!”

His head snapped up as the rest of the Chain rushed into the clearing, eyes wide. “Hey-” He tried to talk, but no sound came out; his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head swam. Silver fog began to cloud his vision.

The last thing he was aware of before he felt himself fall was Time throwing his blade aside and running to catch him.

Then it all went white. The only noises he could hear were the whispers of watchers, and the chimes of tiny bells.

#linked universe #fan fiction #fun fact! the first song is as close as you can get to the song of discovery from spirit tracks #and the second one is my best attempt at the song of the hero on wind waker #also a fun fact: there are no wind waker song emulators like there are ocarina which made that part difficult #might make a part two if you guys like this one ❤#fanfiction #loz #zelda

225 notes · View notes

hansoulo · 4 years ago

Text

whisper scarcely breathing

part four of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NC-17, NSFW, explicit language, mentions of canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, bathing and/or being bathed, choking, female-receiving oral, loss of virginity, unprotected M/F intercourse

Word Count: 6.1k

Image Credit: (x) by @/365filmsbyauroranocte, not meant to be a representation of the reader

A/N: this one is for the boys with the boomin’ system 😩💦

༓ series masterlist ༓

The datapad that you’d left in the garden was thrust back into your possession one morning by the hurried hands of a maid. Truthfully, you had forgotten all about it. The mind, when faced with matters as pressing as the press of a mouth, tends to forget about inconsequential objects.

You’d never met the girl standing in front of you before, and she avoided your eyes while passing over the small screen. She seemed eager to be rid of it. You couldn’t say you blamed her. “‘S yours, miss. The bounty hunter said you’d lost it.”

Did he, now?

“Thank you,�� you replied sincerely, careful not to let the datapad drop to the floor as you tucked it back into the deep brocade of your gown pockets. You didn’t have the wherewithal at first to ask her when he’d found it or found the time to return it. But you also didn’t have the common sense to keep your mouth shut. “Could I ask when he gave it to you?”

The servant ducked her head. “This morning, your Highness. I- I was in the loading bay when they left, think he was tryin’ to get a hold of you but didn’t have the time, told me- told me to keep quiet ‘bout it.” A bob of her throat signalled a nervous swallow. “Princess.”

Poor girl, you thought to yourself absentmindedly. Boba probably scared her half out of her wits.

“Really, I can’t thank you enough.” You touched a soft hand to the servant’s shoulder in an misguided attempt to soothe. She returned the action with a nervous smile, eyes still downcast and trying not to shy away.

You never realized how afraid they all were. Of you.

The realization made your tongue tangle in your throat, tripping over some lie about a fever and champagne-induced amnesia as explanation for your exchanges with a man so ill-acquainted.

Hopefully, the maid didn’t make a habit of gossip.

Hopefully, you stopped making a habit of Boba Fett.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

A chaincode, a datapad tracking number, and the rest of your life flashed in backlit neon. You silently cursed yourself for not putting an opening passcode on anything, including the datapad that you now held with slightly tremoring hands.

In your defense, it’s not like it held anything of interest. Mostly just holonovels and some pictures of things you found intriguing enough to want to paint or draw.

But now there was a thing of veritable interest stuffed into a new folder titled “Your Highness” and glowing in galactic basic.

BF-18378-3263827

You stared at the numbers until they morphed into a strong, stern-featured face, muddy in your imagination against the ink night invading your bedroom. Boba left his tracking number there for you. If you wanted to, you could use them to message him or comm him or leave a holoprojection message. Whenever you wanted. Right now, even.

When did he even find your datapad? Why he found it (and why he returned it with the aforementioned numerical contraband) was probably a more apt question.

There was quite a lot to think about. Best to take stock of the present moment, lest you lose your head and go completely mad. As if you hadn’t already.

The facts repeated themselves in a half-conscious mantra, screen slipping out of your hands and onto the pillow beside your head. Facts. Facts were good. What were the facts, again?

Boba Fett was arguably the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Boba Fett was not much of a talker.

Boba Fett was a piss-poor dancer.

And Boba Fett was an unfairly good kisser.

The beginning three points held little negative sway, with the first adding much more appeal than it should, the second a welcome relief, and the third being… sort of endearing.

It was on the last point that your mind lingered the longest.

You didn’t even realize you’d copied numbers into the screen’s communications system until its microphone crackled to life.

One breath, two breaths, stuck in your sleep-thick throat. No words from either side yet. Did you get the tracking code wrong? Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you were dreaming already, imagining the wind outside to be the quiet, husky inhale that sounded from the other end of the receiver.

“Not falling asleep are we, princess?”

Your eyes shot open. “No. No, I’m…” the words croaked themselves out as you fought down a yawn, “I’m awake.” His low chuckle. “I called you didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Boba assented. Quiet amusement colored his accent. “And you called because…”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, without room for teasing. You were too sleepy to be ashamed of admitting you sought out his company, as foolish as doing so was. No use in hiding what both parties knew to be true.

He let out a noise of soft approval and it rumbled a pleasant sunburst between your ears. “You seem to want a lot of things, don’t you?”

Makes me want… want…

Want what, Princess?

Want you.

You can have me.

The memory snaked a fever flush down your neck, over the still-tender skin and lightly mottled marks. Boba was remembering it just as well as you were. You knew he was.

It gave you a rush, a weird sort of power trip. Because as stupid as you felt doing this, wanting this, he wanted it too. Enough to let your hands thread through his hair and around his arms, then to the scar above his left brow and across his mouth. Enough to let you do it again at the risk of being caught. Enough to leave you his tracking number, like you were two teenagers trading love letters and not legal adults with judgement better enough to do otherwise.

You stayed on the comm for two hours, and only went to sleep because Boba threatened to cut your link off if you didn’t.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

It had been almost five standard months since the first time you’d spoken. Typed words continued to be exchanged under your covers, day after day, night after night. Sometimes you’d fall asleep talking, peppering him with questions about his ship and his job until your throat ached with the effort of keeping yourself awake. Sometimes you did more than talk.

He never fell asleep. Never seemed to sleep, period.

What a strange man. Strange, dangerous, interesting man.

You often missed each other by a hair’s breadth. Courtly flurry and galactic bounty hunting didn’t make much space for private conversation. Boba was still taciturn. You were still naive.

And yet…

You liked him. He listened when you talked about botany and painting, neither of which you imagined interested him. He was arrogant and cocky and insufferable sometimes, but he listened. He told you about his job and regaled your sheltered curiosity with lurid, gory details. He told you about his father.

And one day he somehow, miraculously, had a set of Nabooan watercolors left for you in the garden.

Biting down a juvenile grin with every new message, you watched the quiet ping! of the datapad.

Hello

are you busy?

In a way

how so

Had a brush with Hutt’s rancor

poor thing

Don’t get soft on me now

wasn’t talking about you

Very funny

I’m very, very sorry

Should be. The bastard nearly tore up my flight suit

… show me?

⫸———————————————— ⫷

BF-18378-3263827 HAS ATTACHED 3 FILES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

HOLOCALL DURATION: 02:45:35 HOURS

SAVE CALL RECORDING? PRESS YES/NO TO CONFIRM

Your damp hands tremored.

YES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

Six months, four days, and 20 hours. That’s how long it took for you to see Boba Fett again.

You’d started to think the entire ordeal was a mirage, an illusionary experience your brain conjured up for you as a one-time brush with what your life could have been. Who it could’ve been with.

But you did see him again. Foolhardy, reckless, and unplanned.

You didn’t listen to his explanation about having to leave in the morning, taking some third-rate bounty as an excuse to come back to Quas Killam for the first time in what seemed like ages—practically eons since his mouth had last been at your neck. He appeared on your bedroom balcony near midnight like an apparition, mounted by a still-burning jetpack that shut off with an arc of smoke.

You’d been sleeping, albeit fitfully, and woke the minute his knuckles rapped against the glass. You didn’t remember ever telling him where your bedchambers were, but given… everything… you couldn’t say you were surprised he knew. When he crouched down to shed the helmet, it made a soft thump on the plush carpet.

And then you kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Boba’s fingertips dragged fire across your prickled skin with every pass. Whose breathing was whose didn’t matter. It was hard, heaving, and shared. Eyes closed, lips raw, every part of you dizzy. Dizzy.

The sneeze that left you was loud enough to knock his forehead against yours. Hard.

Feet stumbling until your legs hit the bedspread, you let your weakened knees carry you down into a sitting position atop the covers and tried to catch your breath. Boba only chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the mild injury.

Of course your body had picked today to come down with a cold. And of course you’d forgotten to tell him.

In your defense (you seemed to do a lot of self-defending these days) you didn’t know Boba would be coming tonight. When you asked him a week ago—the last time you’d spoken—he’d said “soon.” Whatever “soon” meant, you hadn’t anticipated it being now. Your rumpled nightgown and deteriorating personal hygiene was evidence enough of that.

The day had passed in fitful naps, with you waving away all attempts at help until the servants who usually tittered about decided to give you a wide berth until tomorrow. They’d left the door locked and your curtains drawn, thank the gods.

“A hello would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. The lingering taste of him in your mouth mixed with the bitter medicine that you’d forced down a few hours ago.

Boba didn’t answer at first, only stalking forward with his silhouette glowing in light of the full moon. You brought your knees up to your chest to make room for him to stand in front of you. Every movement was bathed in slowness, in the reverence of caution and night-time silence.

His gloved hand brushed against your chin and tilted it upwards, thumb rubbing a small circle into your jawbone as he moved your face in one large grip. Left, inspecting a swollen mouth and puffy eyes, then right. Up to see the column of your exposed neck. Down to meet his bare, dark face.

He kissed you again, more gentle this time. “Hello.”

A soft whimper left your throat.

Oh, you hated it. Hated the way you sounded when he touched you, small and pathetic. Needy.

The balustrade doors were still open, and this fact was made known by a particularly biting gust of silver wind.

“You’re cold,” the man standing close to you noted with a deep downquirk of his mouth. Boba never had to conceal anything; his helmet did that for him. But when it was off, every thought flickered past his face in evening technicolor.

Your hands paused in their run up your arms to hold petulantly at your elbows, covered only by the thin fabric of your shift. Goosebumps rose against your neck with a new breeze and you fought down the urge to shiver. “M’not.”

“And stubborn.”

You glared at him, but it held no real venom.

“I appreciate the concern,” you sniffled again and your body trembled slightly. “But I’m the picture of health. I really have never been—” here you sneezed rather violently, crumbling any remaining sense of composure and making the final words thick with congestion, “—any better.” Boba hooked two strong arms underneath your knees and around your shoulders. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Boba grunted and lifted you to his chest in one swift, easy motion. “Up.”

“I’m already up,” you grumbled, a headache you’d thought was all but gone now throbbing from the quick movement. Armor pressed to your cheek and you let yourself go pliant, curling up into Boba’s broad chest. He smelled nice. Like the outdoors. The real outdoors—not manufactured gardens or stone courtyards. No, dangerous things. Like deserts and leather and guns.

You queried him as he walked in long strides across the room. “Where are you taking me? Should have you—” another sneeze burned your airways, “—have you arrested for treason. A high crime or misdemeanor of some sort, kidnapping royalty...”

He only scoffed, shifting your slack body into his one-armed grip when he arrived at the entrance of your adjunct refresher. The door opened with a soft click. “You talk too much.”

Your head rolled back to face him, pressed so close already that the attempt made you cross-eyed. “And you,” a polished finger jabbed lightly at his chest plate, “are up to no good.”

You were only joking, but Boba didn’t deny it.

Green was your favorite color, even before you met him. It was the color of gardens. Of mint leaves. Of insects and jewels. Of him.

Gods, he was beautiful. Did he know that? Would he ever believe you if you told him? He was achingly, painfully, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The man set you down to your immediate protests. Funny how quick you seemed to change your mind. “Don’t whine,” he chided when you did just that, pushing you forward by the small of your back.

You walked into the refresher confused, that same confusion compounding when Boba strode over to the marble bathtub in room’s center with a surety that belayed the fact he’d never once stepped foot inside here. Were all bounty hunters this self-assured? Or was he just so full of bathroom bravado that your sprawling floor-plan didn’t faze him?

Whatever the case was, said bounty hunter was now crouched down on the tile floor and twisting the tub faucets until they sprayed out a gush of hot water, quickly filling the room with heady steam.

“Hot water helps.” A still-gloved hand dipped an inch into the filling tub and deemed it acceptable. “The steam’ll clear up those sneezes of yours. And the headache.”

“How did you know I-” your mouth opened and closed before you realized you didn’t do a great job of hiding your symptoms. Maker knows you looked a sight, all mussed and tired and sticky with cold sweat. He should make a run for it now, you half-joked to yourself. He’s only ever seen me stuffed into a corset and done up half to death.

He got up with a grunt and turned back towards you. Beskar and durasteel and tactical fabric suddenly made you feel, for the first time in your life, underdressed. “‘S not hard to tell, princess.”

“Oh,” was your only response as you pushed off the sink counter, fisting the fabric of your nightgown in an unconscious display of hesitancy.

Boba’s heavy boots made for the door.

It was probably just to leave you some semblance of privacy, but you panicked, not wanting to be left alone now that he was finally here. “Wait!” you burst out, reaching a palm onto his shoulder before he could exit. “Wait. Can— can you stay?” Of course he won’t stay, you dolt. He probably came to sleep with you, not babysit you. “Please?”

Both of his hands curled into themselves when he turned back to you, their leather squeaking in the tight flex. Then, they released limp by his sides. Each word was carefully measured, slow-simmering like a pot about to boil over. Like a trigger finger twitchy on a blaster. “If you want me to.”

You answered with a bobbing nod and a swallow. “I do.”

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba Fett had long since forgotten he was a man. Instead, he was armor. He was a code, a set of strict (albeit grey) morals, the steadfast honor he’d been imbibed with from the years with his father and then the years of tearing emptiness after.

Bounty hunters had no time for attachments. They couldn’t afford to humor every batting eyelash with more than a self-serving flirtation, and he’d had his fill of those already. He’d overflowed his cup ten times over with shallow pleasantries and quick release.

But those days were long-gone. Had been for years now. Now he was practically puritanical.

Had been, anyway.

He didn’t like thinking of himself as impulsive, wanting to leave the trait behind in his younger years but not being old enough to shake it off completely. But he wasn’t impulsive anymore. He wasn’t.

You were going to destroy him.

Low-ranking royalty on some Imperial-occupied factory planet; sheltered and pretty. You had the brightest eyes he had ever seen and a temperament that took no prisoners, and you were going to destroy him.

Boba thought you’d make him leave, but you didn’t. You wanted him to stay and told him so.

So he stayed. His armor was peeled off in your presence for the first time— carefully placed on a chair in your bedroom—and he walked back into the refresher to see you untying your flimsy nightdress like it’d done you a personal wrong.

When it dropped beside your feet, it took every ounce of self-control Boba possessed to stop himself from eating you whole.

He heard you kick it to the floor (his eyes had since been very determinedly fixed on a fascinating piece of groutwork near his left foot) before you stepped into the bath, sighing in a way that made breathing a work harder than it should’ve been.

His looking away wasn’t a request on your part, you didn’t seem to mind either way, but he didn’t trust himself to do otherwise. Not until the sounds of splashing had subsided somewhat, signalling your stilled motion. “Boba?”

Now there was permission to walk. Look down. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, the clawfoot of the bathtub. He had reached his destination.

A wet hand tugged at his belt loops and he finally allowed himself to look, meeting the sight of you sitting bare in the clear-blue water with legs pulled up to your chest. The arm not touching him was roped around your calves. Your chin rested on the wide, curved lip of the tub.

If Boba had any self-respect, it had been snuffed out the first moment you opened your mouth, six months ago in that cavernous palace hallway with your failed attempt at bravado. It was haughty, short-lived, and adorable.

Maker, you were beautiful. Did you know that? Would you ever believe him if you told you? You were blindingly, effervescently, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The position of your chin forced your lips into a slight pout. As if you needed another weapon in your arsenal of ways to make him question his judgement. “Could you bring me the tray on the counter?”

Of course he could. He could bring you anything you liked. He would bring you a rancor, a dozen rancors, a fucking sarlaac if it meant you would smile all soft-like the way you just did when he answered yes.

Boba Fett, mercenary feared farther than he would ever live to travel and hunter too expensive for the Imperial payroll, was now a bath attendant. It was torturous in its sensual irony.

The tray was brought over in short order, cluttered with tiny vials of Maker-knows-what and bars of who-knows-how. Individually they probably all smelled nice, but crowded together the heavy scents only made his head spin. He set the tray down on the floor with a rattle and held up each mystery soap for your inspection. No. No. No. No, not that one. Gods, you were picky. No. No. Yes, please.

You were Miss Manners tonight apparently.

“It’s floating archidia,” you told him, mind running through an endless backlog of plant indexes as he handed over the soap. You sounded clearer now, less congested and more alert. Needed to drink water, though. “The flower that this is made with, I mean. Native to the planet Nubia, rumored to have euphoric properties.” You snorted and ran a thumbnail along the bar’s waxy edge, bringing up a curled pink piece. “Whatever that means.”

“Do you think it does?”

“Have euphoric properties?” you hummed, considering it for a moment. “Maybe. But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking,” Boba parroted.

The meaning of words can change when they’re repeated. Neither of your minds were on flowers.

His jaw tensed when you reached your other hand to his forearm, baring the rest of your body to the dim orange of the refresher lights’ night settings. The water rippled, warm now instead of steaming, and your fingers curled around the scarred skin of his wrist. “Take off the gloves,” you echoed, your voice suddenly desperate and distant as you traced over pale leather seams. “Please.”

He had refused the first time simply to toy with you. You weren’t used to being told no, and it showed. But he let you take off his helmet in a moment of thoughtless self-indulgence, scratching the part of his subconscious that itched to be touched, stroked, held. Shedding the helmet in front of someone else didn’t really mean anything in an honorable sense—at least not to Boba. Nothing tied him to the habit except a desire to keep himself and his motivations unknown. It was easier that way. Less messy.

He acquiesced. "Since you asked so nicely."

Wrinkling your nose, you guided newly-bare palms to knead gently at your shoulder blades. The skin there was soft and warm, pliant under his sandpaper touch. "Keep mentioning it and I'll go back to being difficult."

The soap made foamy bubbles across your back, over your arms and the velvet slope of your hips. Fingertips ghosted through the space between your jaw and ear, where he remembered sucking in a soft bruise.

He liked being known by you.

⫸————————————————⫷

You clambered out the tub with all the grace of a baby krugga deer and about as much shame. Which is to say, none at all. The subsiding cold had left you tired, bones like jelly and mind sloshing its thoughts around with no real order. Boba was here. Had stayed. Was standing in front of you now, watching tiny water droplets trail down your feet and letting you balance on his arm to keep you from stumbling.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders. The press of his hot mouth against your forehead followed close behind. “Go sit on the bed.”

For some reason, you didn’t mind listening to him this time. Chalk it up to moldable exhaustion, you thought. Definitely not the fact that his voice sounded especially nice tonight, or any number of other questionable reasons.

He was going to ruin you. Or you would ruin yourself. Any way it was construed, Boba would play a part.

Still only in a towel, you drank the stale tea that sat on your bedside table and watched in mild interest as the mercenary’s shadow emptied out tepid bathwater with the thick glugluglug of the drain. It washed down soap and all your shared secrets.

Was it wrong that you still wanted him? More, now that he’d done this for you? Now that it wasn’t just cruel kisses and groping hands? What sort of a person did that make you?

Your mind whispered it when Boba walked back towards you. Someone lonely.

He helped you slide a new chemise on when you asked him to, quick and steady over the thin linen ties. I bet you do that with all the girls, you’d teased. No, he answered simply. Just you.

He was going to ruin you.

“Do you have to go yet?” you asked quietly and climbed under the covers. They were green today. Life enjoyed coincidences like that.

Boba crouched down on the floor beside your lying figure and shook his head. A wide fingertip smoothed away the crease between your brows. He was doing lots of touching. You were not complaining. “Not ‘til morning.”

“You might as well then,” you mumbled and lifted up the embroidered blankets with a sleep-slack hand. “No one’ll bother us, I promise.” you answered the empty air, too heartsick to comprehend any possible insinuations and too tired to realize the fingers tracing your brow bone had paused. “I told them all not to come back until tomorrow.”

His shirt and pants were shed in an unceremonious pile. You were already half-asleep when he climbed into the other side of the bed, slotting his legs against yours like puzzle pieces. Two question marks curled into each other, his chest to your back and his lips brushing your head.

“Goodnight, princess.”

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dreaming about him.

He was the burning sun that every single one of your thoughts had orbited around for the last six months and now he was invading your subconscious, dream-talons taking the form of dark hands rubbing soft circles against you and then invading your open mouth.

In your dream, Boba touched you softly and not at all, a tease even in your self-serving imagination.

Then you woke up, and it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Two thick arms encircled your waist with a grip unyielding in their strength. They’d pulled you impossibly close, pressed up against his sleeping body until every ridge of his muscled stomach could be felt against your back. Something else was against your back.

Your head reeled in its effort to sludge through the fog of sleep and reach the reality of masculine hips. They shifted in an unintentional grind against your legs until you couldn’t bite back the gasp that bubbled out from your voicebox, the sound quiet, keening, and lost in the shuffled sounds of fabric. It was still dark out. The water-clock in the corner of your room read 01:25:02.

You hadn’t put on anything underneath the new chemise. Why bother, when he’d already seen everything? Your body had grown to be a thing for display, a clothes-hanger and object to be prodded by strangers, and you’d long since rid yourself of any precocious modesty.

But this was different.

When Boba touched you, it wasn’t to sew flowers in your hair or drape a sash over your chest. It was simply to touch. The thought made you light-headed with newfound embarrassment, wiggling in his grip until you turned to face his sleeping form.

All the heavy things he carried on his shoulders during the day were gone now. His bottom lip pillowed out when he slept and he looked younger, the perpetual downturn of his lips now settled below the black hair at his temples. You felt a sticky sort of fondness settle in your chest.

“Boba,” you whispered, two hands placing themselves on his tanned cheeks. They traced the divots of scars and premature lines with all the reverence of worshipfulness.

“Mmm,” his voice rumbled with eyes still closed. A warm mouth kissed the side of your palm.

“Boba,” you repeated, more desperate this time but not knowing what you were desperate for. The space between your legs already knew what it wanted, hot and pulsing with a familiar dampness. Traitor.

“What do you need?” The question wasn’t accusatory, nor annoyed at your waking him. It was known that he would give you whatever you liked. Eventually.

You. Just you.

“I don’t,” you huffed, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your now overheated body as you squirmed, “I don’t know.” Lie.

“Think about it and tell me,” he whispered, eyes opening in their dark, heavy-lidded expectation. The moon and stars suspended outside offered light enough to see the smirk on his face. His skin was the color of burnt earth and of gods. Somewhere, far away in the canopy of carefully pruned trees, a single lark let out its warbled cry.

There was an old adage about being like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d never touched a lamb. Never seen a slaughter. But somehow, you knew it was true.

This lamb, dumb and tender-hearted, was willingly sacrificied.

"I...'' the word left you in the arc of your exhale, one whoosh of air that rattled your chest already wracked with fevered tremors. "I- want you to-"

"You want me to what, pretty thing?" His voice was low, dangerous. It made every part of you want him more. "Say it."

You weren't used to cursing. It was never tolerated and you barely ever heard it, but you'd learned enough to know what he wanted you to say. Which word he wanted to hear, and what it'd mean he would do.

"F-fuck. Me." you choked out, biting your lip to muffle the embarrassment of having to speak it out loud. The word was filthy and raw between your teeth. "Please?"

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dying. Possibly had already died. Were ascending up or barrelling down, you didn’t care as long as his wet mouth stayed between your legs and never, ever stopped.

Wide hands cupped at your skin and kneaded wherever they could reach, simultaneously rough and supplicating. Every pass of his tongue was enough to make you feel possessed. He was killing you.

“Good. Good girl.” he said against your swollen skin when your hips arced off the bed, your spine and toes stiffening for what seemed like an eternity during the damp lightning finish. It sounded like a growl, animalistic and vibrating. A burning, sweet hurt.

Some people call it “little death,” a lady’s maid once whispered underneath her hand in a giggle. “Little death?” you repeated incredulously. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

You understood now.

Boba didn’t let up, never once letting his touch waver even as you buckled and swayed, all sense lost and all sensation compacting. “Another,” he ordered. Your body listened, bending to his touch without complaint with eyes rolled back into your head.

You were dying.

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba let you lay against him in the downturn, rubbing mindless shapes into the bone of your wrists as you struggled to breathe. Your neck was cradled in one of his broad, bronze palms. It gave one tiny, imperceptible squeeze. An accident. A test.

You pawed at the hand resting heavy on your nape until it moved to leave completely, but was caught instead by your fingers and guided—slow and curious—to cup at your bared throat.

“Dirty,” the man noted in a dark rasp and rolled over to face you. There was a slight smirk in his voice, but that could’ve just been your imagination.

“I don’t see you...” your voice trailed off into a wheeze as Boba’s thick fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, “—see you complaining.”

He kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. An eternity was spent opening the seam of your mouth while he choked you softly, baring your pulsating soul with only your bedroom walls as witness to the present depravity. The air was filled with begging and grunting—simple noises that stuttered and left your sheets ruined.

You wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

His chuckle morphed into a groan when you reached down to touch him with widening eyes, squeezing him curiously after pulling down his boxers. “You’re a brave little thing,” Boba noted with a hint of greedy pride. “Never done this before, have you?”

Your own hands served as poor substitutes all these years. You shook your head no.

“D’you want to?”

Of course you did. This was the only thing you wanted. The only thing you would ever want, over and over until your body turned to dust under him. A million grains of fizzy, burning blaster powder. A million comets passing by a supernova.

You nodded and tucked your face into the space between Boba’s shoulder and neck, rolling onto your side and hooking a leg over his hip. Your chests met, damp with sweat as cool air flowed over bare skin. The covers had long since been pushed aside. “Safe,” you said in a heady moan over the shell of his ear. “Implant.”

Thank goodness for modern medicine.

⫸————————————————⫷

It hurt a little at first, but most of the discomfort melted away as he whispered to you, sweet and cloying praises alongside filthy things that you’d be hard-pressed to repeat in public. They wove together in an endless stream of baritone vowels, lapping over each other like ocean waves until everything was a gyrating, syrupy playback.

He let you move against him, mouth open and sloppy against your temple when you whined at the stretch. The hands at your back didn’t push. Only placated. “I know, I know,” Boba assured you with fingers rubbing sympathetic desire into your flesh. It would bruise, but you’d come to like the marks. Your hips bucked at their own accord when he pressed up against something tight, the friction burning a bright, numb spark. “Slow down,” he mumbled into your hair, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Never in your life did you think this was how it would be. Your first kiss, more of a battle than it was a kiss, served as fuel for the expectations of your first time. Never in your life did you think he would be the one telling you to go slow.

It was for your sake, you knew that. But it was still surprising.

You huffed and bit the shell of his ear in childish revenge, blowing a puff of air where you knew it would tickle. Boba only growled and tightened his arms around your waist, rocking into you slow and deep. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

The new movements robbed you of the ability to speak until all you could do in response was lift your head from where it had rested on his shoulder, meeting impossibly dark eyes in lust-addled vision as a building pressure colored the entire world in shades of black, red, and green.

In a moment of complete and utter lack of propriety, you leaned forward, smiling like a woman deranged, and pressed a kiss to his nose.

Boba came undone the same minute you did. It was a rush of wet, rocking pleasure, spreading like thick webs of lighted fire from inside your blood and out to fill the room with quiet devotion. Panting, bursting, close, messy. You’d never felt so whole.

Your foreheads met and you went cross-eyed trying to look at him again. That’s all you wanted to do. Look at him. Uttered underneath his jaw, where the skin was smooth, was your finishing admission. “I love you.”

You didn’t say it to hear it repeated. It was just to give it a shape. Make it concrete. Said more to yourself than him, really.

But Boba did repeat it. Over and over and over. In the tangle of your arms. I love you. In the kiss to your breasts. I love you. In the towel brought between your legs. I love you. In the settled silence of new sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

⫸————————————————⫷

The watery light of dawn melted through heavy curtains and you awoke, body weighed down with lead and gold. Sweet soreness had made its home in your muscles and you were loath to get up, but the man you’d been using as a pillow had very rudely left his post.

“I have to go,” he said, already awake and standing sentry by your bed. You raised your head up from the pillows in groggy protest to meet his blurry figure. If you squinted, there were three of him standing there at once.

A shake of your head rid your vision of the doubles, leaving the lone man. He kissed you—quick and dirty, with tongue—and squeezed your exposed breast, prompting a low moan to tumble from your mouth before he slipped his blaster into the holster at his hip. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning and you were thoroughly debauched. What a scandal, you thought (not for the first time) with passing amusement. A bounty hunter and a princess.

Watching in a dim haze as Boba finished strapping on his amor, you tracked the reflection of the sun in the metal’s lazy movement.

He leaned over you. “I’ll be back soon.” Soon. What did soon mean? Another kiss, slow and careful on the bow of your mouth. One more on the slope of your forehead. For luck, you supposed. Whether it was for you or him didn’t matter much. “Promise.”

Slowly, as he climbed out onto your balcony and was gone with a flash of jetpack light, you wondered if it was a mirage; a dream, maybe. The entire night a hallucinatory haze, a figment of your overactive imagination and reckless romanticism.

But the towel left discarded on the floor and the pulsing ache between your legs was very, very real.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x you #boba fett fic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

281 notes · View notes

word-processing · 2 years ago

Text

wip wednesday (word ~1,300)

I’m reviving this blog purely because I’m writing this fic. I want to say that it’s inspired by my favorite 00Q playlist by @gayjamesbond. So if anyone needs me I’ll be singing Breathless by Dan Wilson in my car.

Summary (sorta): Fairly new MI6 agent James Bond is sent to Paris to track down a young hacker and bring him back to MI6. For recruitment or arrest, he’s not sure. Things go both as planned and completely off the rails. (Also, I’m planning 2 more fics in this series).

“Agent Bond,” it was Tanner’s voice instead of M’s, which was almost a disappointment. He enjoyed trading banter with the older woman. Of all his superiors in the Navy, she was the most permissive and the least accepting of failure. Bond liked her.

“Mr. Tanner,” Bond replied just as evenly. Tanner was fun to pester too. He got frustrated easily. Bond was aware that he shouldn’t be this disrespectful to superiors. His life in the SIS was based solely on their good graces, but there was no brig to throw him in this time. Not that he ever was disciplined in such a manner.

“M has a mission for you, and she needs you to come in to be briefed. How quickly can you come in?”

Bond looked at his watch. It was 1504, and he had to make it across London to Vauxhall. “Quarter-til?”

“Good. Your train out of St. Pancras leaves in 1800.” Tanner said with no explanation and hung up.

Right. Best to pack a bag then.

Bond arrived outside M’s office at 1543. “Tanner.” He nodded to the man sitting at the desk in the front office.

“Bond. You may go in.” He said and pressed a button on his desk. The lock on M’s door clicked open.

“Thank you.” He dropped his leather weekender by Tanner’s desk and pushed open the door.

M sat at her desk. Somehow, despite all the heavy dark wood, it didn’t swallow the older woman up. She looked in control. Like she’s carved out a space for herself in this male-dominated world and was now ruling it quite happily. She was an absolute menace, and Bond was starting to like her quite a bit.

“Agent Bond. Thank you for coming. I have a new assignment for you. This one is a little more…freeform.” She slid a folder across to him and then folder her hands again.

“Freeform, ma’am?” It was only his sixth assignment. Freeform implied she thought he was ready to run free. Which Bond knew she didn’t believe. He did have a habit of making a mess.

“I’m not going to tell you how to go about this. It’s a simple case of getting some information and bringing someone in.”

“Bring someone in?” Bond sat down and crossed one leg over the other. He leaned forward to grab the file, slowly, watching M like she might stanch it back from him. In his private moments, Bond still expected them to take this away from him. He’d felt the same way when they handed him his Commander strips. James Bond never got to have anything good for very long.

With the file securely in his hand, Bond opened it and rested it on his knee. Clipped to the left side was a far-away picture of a young man, hair tousled in the wind and chin buried in a knit scarf, but his face was unmistakable. He was very young. If M told him he was 18, Bond would believe her.

The rest of the file was a series of computer terms that Bond didn’t fully understand and a short dossier.

Name: Matthew Quarles Age: 23 Hometown: Newmarket, Suffolk, UK Education: Ph.D., Computer Science, Cambridge. MS, Mechanical Engineering, Cambridge, BS, Physics, Cambridge. Parents: Thomson Quarles, Father. Charlotte Quarles, nee Dupont, Mother (French-British dual citizen). Current Location: Paris, France. Criminal Record: None (see attached).

Attached was the longest part of the dossier, which was five pages of suspected hacking crimes in 12 different countries. The evidence was robust, but there weren’t any charges. Yet.

“Think of it as repatriation,” M said. “We need his list of contacts and to have him brought back to England.”

“To arrest? You can’t have him arrested by the French and extradited?” That would be the simplest way. Even if he went over there and got him, they would still need to alert the French.

M leaned back in her chair. “We’d like to prevent this from being an international incident. If the French find out about him, every other country on the list will, and they’ll want him. Do you really think we’ll get him back once he’s stood trial in Russia?”

No, Bond knew that they wouldn’t.

“He’s a British citizen. We’ll handle him.”

She very clearly hadn’t said that he would be tried for his crimes. Bond wondered if they were looking to arrest him or recruit him.

“And you don’t have a preference of how I go about things?”

She smiled, grandmotherly. Well, like a wolf in grandmother’s clothes. “Surprise me, Agent.”

He understood then that this was the test. She wanted to see what kind of agent he would be. If she could let him off the lease and how he operated. This would determine his career.

“Thank, ma’am.” He stood up and buttoned his jacket, nodding respectfully. “Tanner will have your train ticket. You leave for Paris in a few hours. Get there, locate him, and get him home. Alive.”

So, they did want something from him.

A woman was leaning on Tanner’s desk outside of M's office. She had long legs, and her dark curls were pushed away from her face. “Whose bag is this?” She was asking. “Looks posh. Though I think they’ll find, a weekender isn’t going to get them very far. I’ve never had a mission take me less than four days, and M almost gave me a medal for that one.”

“It’s Bond. The new one.” Tanner replied.

“Oo, a new one. I do love fresh blood.”

“I’m not that fresh, I’m afraid.” Bond said as he emerged, hands in his trouser pockets.

The agent, to her credit, didn’t startle or ask as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Instead, she just smiled at him. “A pleasure. Eve Moneypenny.” She held out a hand, and Bond took it. Her fingers were as gun calloused as his. He smiled.

“Bond. James Bond. And the pleasure is all mine.” She dropped his hand and returned to her leaning position. Tanner looked like he would rather be anywhere else. “I believe you have something for me, Tanner.”

“Yes. Here is your train ticket, passport, a secure laptop, credit card, and hotel information.” Tanner said, setting a white, blocky MacBook on the desk with an envelope on top. “You have your work mobile, yes?”

“Of course,” Bond deadpanned.

“Good. There’s a car waiting to take you to the station.”

“A car?” Moneypenny hummed. “My, you must be the new superstar Q mentioned. He didn’t mention you were handsome too.”

Tanner glared at her. Clearly, that was Need-to-Know information.

Bond was catching onto the game now. He put the laptop under his arm and picked up his bag. He stepped in front of Moneypenny and took her hand in his free one, leaning over to kiss her knuckles. “I aim to please, Agent Moneypenny.”

She smiled. “I don’t doubt it, Agent Bond.”

With a nod to Tanner, Bond left. He slid into the car and nodded for the driver to go. He slipped the passport and ticket into his inside pocket. Bond shoved the laptop and files into his bag, thinking that Moneypenny with right and he was going to need a bigger bag.

On the train, Bond looked another look at the file. Quarles was known to hang around the Latin Quarter, which made sense. He was known to have relationships with men, which… Did M expect this to be a honeypot? Bond wasn’t wholly sure that honeypots were a real thing. He mentioned it once, and Tanner and Q just looked at him. It wasn’t like they had a division just for agents who fucked people for information.

Unless that was really what the 00s were. License to kill was just a euphemism.

He supposed they would see. Quarles was undoubtedly handsome enough. But at 23, he was a decade younger than Bond. It was possible he wouldn’t be interested in Bond.

Best to cross the bridge when they come to it. He that didn’t work, he could pretend to be an MI5 agent who came to bring Q home because he was in grave danger. It was almost the truth.

#00q #my fics #wip wednesday #00q fanfiction #wip

7 notes · View notes

lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Change of Heart ( Taehyungx OC)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content

Chapter 9

“I believe you owe me an explanation....” My father’s voice was soft and steady, his gaze piercing as he stared at me. I could feel my skin thrum with distaste and the urge to take a shower was strong. I wanted to scrub my skin off, Eun Woo’s touch somehow lingering and heavy on me.

“Give me my phone back.” I said instead and my father shook his head.

“No can do. Those men you met? Paranoid bunch. They thought you and Eun Woo might have been recording something and they wanted me to check your phone. i had to reassure them and so, just for good measure, I destroyed it.”

I glared at him.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation. Two weeks ago you couldn’t stand the sight of Eun Woo.... And now here you are, at my Yacht club , claiming you’re dating the man. What are you trying to pull?” My father prompted.

“There’s nothing to say. I just... I lost my job at the preserve and I can’t really look for anything else right now Eun Woo is just helping me out.” I whispered.

My father looked surprised.

“That’s interesting, I see your pride isn’t as strong as it was when I introduced him to you at the preserve.”

I kept quiet.

"Good. I’m not surprised that you’ve come around to be honest. You are your mother’s daughter after all. Gold digger that she was, at least she left you some of her good looks for you to cash in one, yeah? ‘.

My breath caught in my throat, lips wobbling as tears sprung .

“But still.....the fact that you would whore yourself out to a bunch of animals, to keep him? It makes me wonder. What exactly is going on here, that I’m missing” ”

Taehyung , I thought miserably. I wanted him so badly right now that I felt like I would shatter if I didn’t get away from here.

I glared at my father, feeling disgust well up at the mere sight of him.

“I’m not going to do any such thing.... I’m just helping you . Eun Woo told me you’ve been looking to finish the deal and those men wanted to see me at the resort on the seventeenth. You should be thanking me right now. . ” I said defiantly and my father’s eyebrows rose.

And then he chuckled.

“I feel like you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew. But just remember, this is your doing and if things go south, i am not risking my entire reputation to rescue you. ” He said firmly.

“I can take care of myself.” I said shortly. I clenched and unclenched my fingers , trying to ground myself.

It was so amazing, how blind my father could be. He hadn’t suspected Eun Woo at all. Merely chalking him off as a perverted wolf who wanted to make a bit off money at his resort. Eun Woo was smart as well, being obtuse and sounding foolish on purpose, playing into my father’s belief that wolves weren’t intelligent.

. And this would be his downfall, I thought vindictively. The way he continually thought that wolves were foolish. That he was somehow smarter than them....

“I am not sure if I trust you entirely so I’ve asked Eun Woo to keep an eye on you, till the seventeenth. You can stay with him at his apartment. ” My father said thoughtfully

I kept my gaze down.

“At first i considered calling the whole thing off but apparently , Eun Woo’s onto something with the whole beta wolves being into voyeurism. Perhaps that’s a whole new avenue I could look into.... Those men out there....I’ve been showering them with gifts and women for months and this deal wouldn’t come through. But Eun Woo sweeps in, dangles you in front of them and suddenly they want to finish this deal in five days? Apparently, you’re the secret weapon I should have been using all along?”

I glared at him.

He looked thoughtful as he stared at me. And then he nodded, features hardening.

“So be it... You can go fuck that wolf in front of those men and I’ll get my work done. Always knew you weren’t unlike that mother of yours....” He smirked.

I felt my heart clench at that. My mother had been nothing but innocent. I recoiled when he made to stroke my cheek and he laughed again.

“He’ll come pick you up in a couple of hours . Take a shower and fix yourself. ” He gave me one last look before leaving.

The door slammed shut behind him and I sank to the floor. I stared around the room... groaning.

And then my eyes fell on the small pink phone, sticking out of my bag. My dad had taken my phone but not this . It was the pair to the toddler phone that I’d bought Luna so many moons ago. After my fallout with Taehyung I hadn’t used it at all but it had remained at the bottom of my bag. It would only connect to its pair, but no matter.

Grinning, I pulled it out, dialing quickly. If nothing else, at least dear , sweet Luna’s voice would cheer me up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’ll make all the arrangements?” Eun Woo watched Taehyung carefully, the Alpha wolf sat behind his desk flanked by two of his closest men, Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin. The betas were built like fucking walls , both of them narcs in the force. They stared at him, eyes narrowed in distrust and for the first time Eun Woo felt the first inklings of regret.

Taehyung for his part looked like he believed him. A laptop stood open in front of him, and the wolf had a Bluetooth device in his ear, obviously watching something on the screen. Eun Woo wondered if he had even listened to anything he had said.

“So that’s it? You offered them the resort and they said the deal’s going down.” He asked casually and Eun Woo nodded , realizing that Taehyung had been listening to him after all. .

“On the seventeenth. Yoon Jae hyun’s going to be there.”

“And Mirae...?”

“Well, just as a guest...I did imply we were seeing each other so it would be less suspicious if she were also around.” Eun Woo willed himself to sound normal.

Taehyung didn’t look suspicious but there was no telling with the beautiful alpha, who had mastered the art of keeping a straight face while destroying his enemies. And Eun Woo was well aware that if the alpha found out how he had used the girl, he would definitely be topping that list.

“Very well. I’ll make the necessary arrangements. You can go now. I’ll contact you soon.” Taehyung said shortly , his gaze flitting back to the screen infront of him.

Eun Woo nodded, before standing up on shaky legs, his heart pounding, instincts telling him he was in danger. But he pushed away the thought, grabbing his bag and leaving the office quickly.

Taehyung watched him leave, claws out and digging straight through his desk to stop himself from launching across the room and tearing the wolf’s throat out. He could smell her on him. And his wolf wasn’t happy about it.

“Fucker’s got balls, lying to your face like that.” Namjoon commented mildly, staring at the laptop, where for the past hour or so, Taehyung kept replaying the CCTV footage from the poolside camera on the yacht club.

Taehyung stared at the screen, watching the sheer discomfort and disgust on Mi Rae’s face and he’d never been filled with so much bloodlust in his life. The urged to rip the wolves to shreds, to tear them limb from limb, it simmered in his blood.

The potent rage in his veins stunned him because he’d never felt anything like it before. If he’d had any doubts about whether his wolf had made the right choice, choosing Yoon Mi Rae, it was gone. The sight of those men, ogling what was his and his alone, it made him want to kill.

They had to die. And he had to do it.

Simple as that.

And he would.

He would run them through with his claws and watch the life blood drain out of their frail, fragile bodies.

it took him some effort to compose himself.

“How long has he been running this little racket in his resort?” Taehyung asked casually, feeling inordinately foolish. It was unlike him to be so neglectful over something so incredibly important. How on earth had Cha Eun Woo managed to run something so illicit and horrendous right under his nose?

He blamed himself.

He’d trusted Cha Eun Woo, for one hot minute. Forgotten that the wolf's loyalty lay solely with himself.

Namjoon sighed, placing a file in front of Taehyung. Taehyung flipped through the pictures , stomach turning. Eun Woo had huge sprawling rooms , with beds in the center fitted with restraints and handcuffs. Comfortable arm chairs and couches dotted the rest of the room, men lounging about as they watched the action unfold. Women, drugged and barely conscious, lay on most of them and apparently, alpha wolves indulged themselves with the women.

It was the most disgusting thing he had ever encountered in his life.

And the bastard had actually dared, actually had the fucking thought of dragging his mate into it.

The mere thought of it made Taehyung laugh out loud.

Cha Eun Woo was out of his damn mind.

There really was no other explanation for it. Or maybe he’d been so blinded by his own wealth and power that he’d forgotten that Taehyung was ten times as powerful as him.

Well, whatever the reason, he clearly had a death wish.

And Kim Taehyung was going to grant it to him. With Pleasure.

“It’s new. or we would have caught wind of it before.” Seokjin said apologetically, “ Probably a few months at the most. He mostly uses the men to get tax exemptions or do get ordinances cleared for his resorts or you know, get out of adhering to construction regulation and stuff like that. In return for letting them watch alphas knot human women. ” Seokjin’s face was scrunched in disgust.

“And when I let him meet Yoon Jae hyun and his cronies, he saw an opportunity to expand his clientele and he took it. “ Taehyung hummed thoughtfully.

“Mi Rae’s with her father....” Namjoon said thoughtfully.

“Knowing that son of a bitch, he’ll probably force her to go through with it.” Seokjin shuddered.

“Well, let him bring her there. We’ll get her out. And arrest the whole lot of them.” Namjoon said with a shrug.

Taehyung stared at them for a second.

He had been determined to do this by the book, at first. But watching Cha Eun Woo molest his girl, while a bunch of impotent , old bastards ogled her....well, that really changed his mind about how he wanted to deal with these motherfucking idiots.

“No.” Taehyung said casually.

Namjoon and Seokjin stilled.

“Tae?”

“We’re not arresting any of them.” He said casually. And then he gave Seokjin a slow, calculated smile.

Namjoon’s eyes widened as realization set in.

“Tae-” He began , looking worried but the Alpha merely stared at him.

“I’m going to trust that my two best men are going to make that happen for me?” he drawled, eyes flashing red in a way that said it wasn’t really a request.

Seokjin groaned.

“Fine. But we’ll still have to get an arrest warrant and all that. Don’t want the guy to be hailed as a victim or a martyr after I kill him. that always pisses me off.” He said distastefully and Taehyung hummed.

“I’m going to leave that to your capable hands, gentlemen. “

“We’ll get things ready then. “ Namjoon said casually making to move away and Taehyung nodded, watching the two betas move to the door.

“Good., oh and one more thing....” he called out , making them both turn.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asked , confused.

“Cha Eun Woo... he’s mine. Bring him to me when you’re done with the others.” Taehyung whispered.

Namjoon grimaced but Seokjin merely grinned. Ironically, although he looked soft and almost feminine in his beauty, Seokjin was the meaner one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung came home to see his daughter giggling uncontrollably on the couch, her phone pressed to her ear and he was confused.

The only one who could call her on that phone was him and-

His eyes widened, realization hitting him hard as he all but pounced on the couch, wrestling the phone out of Luna’s hands before he could think his actions through.

“Rae...” He breathed in disbelief.

“Taehyung?” Her voice came out surprised and relieved and he felt like he was flying. It felt like liquid honey in his ears, the sweet cadence of her tone filling him with sweet blessed relief. He hadn’t even realized how badly he had wanted to hear her voice, to get some confirmation that she was alright.

“Dada dada dada...gimme gimme ...I wanna talk to Rae Rae...!!!” Luna bounced next to him, tugging on his arm and he struggled to keep his balance.

“ How did you call? I’ve been trying to reach you and-”

“Dada!!! Please...i haven’t spoken to her in ages...lemme talk to Rae Rae...!!” Luna’s voice was shrill and unrelenting.

“My dad got my phone.... I’m supposed to be with Eun Woo” He could almost see her rolling her eyes as she said that and he felt fondness bloom inside him at the though.

“Dada!! Lemme talk!” Luna was beginning to climb him now and he flinched when her tiny little claws came out, easily piercing the silk of his shirt and digging into his arms.

“Damn it! Luna will you let me talk to your mother for one damn second?!!!!!” Taehyung shouted, frustration spilling out of him before he could tamp it down.

Luna froze on his arm.

It took him another ten seconds to realize what he just said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart thudded straight up to my throat, my lungs constricting so hard that I almost choked.

I gripped the phone hard, fingers shaking as i tried to process what I’d just heard.

“Shit... Oh shit..” Taehyung swore and I startled.

“Don’t swear in front of her...” I hissed automatically . “ Taehyung what the fuck-”

“You’re swearing now!!” He shouted.

“Can you blame me?” I shouted back, my heart pounding. “ I’m not...what the hell do you mean mother?!!”

“I’m sorry... I don’t know why I said that.. It just slipped out.. i... you’re my mate and ... I know you told me not to call you that but I’m sorry , that’s what you are and she’s my daughter so I guess I just.. “

“We’ll talk about this later. “ I snapped, too tired to deal with his twisted feelings. “You have to get me out of here! The last thing I want to do is spend another minute with Cha Eun Woo. ”

“God, Rae... are you alright? ..”

“I’m fine but can you get me out of here? I wanna get out of here!” I whispered.

“Are you in your dad’s apartment? Is he hurting you?”

I sighed in defeat, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

“Let me guess....you want me to stay with the pervert till you finish saving the world.” I groaned.

“We need him at that resort on seventeenth. This whole thing is beginning to infuriate me and I’m going to end it. For good.” Taehyung’s voice carried a hard edge to it that made me wince.

“Are you gonna be there?” I asked, worried.

“I am.”

I bit my lips.

“Did Eun Woo tell you how he got those men to agree to come there?” I asked hesitantly.

“He didn’t but I know. Don’t worry about, I’ll deal with that....”

“If he didn’t tell you how did you know?” I asked, confused.

Silence.

“ i planted a bug on him. And I had spycams set up around the pool.”

“I didn’t like what he did.” I whispered. “ I don’t... I know its for a reason but the way he touched me I... I didn’t like it...”

Taehyung didn’t respond for a few seconds.

“ Mi Rae , what he did was so far out of line that I can’t even begin to tell you how angry it makes me. But, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of him too. ” He said finally.

I felt myself itch with the need to get away. To reach Taehyung. And Luna..God, listening to her voice after so long....listening to her happy , joyful delight.,..

“I want to see you.” I begged, dignity forgotten. “ I want to see you and Luna.. Taehyung get me out of here!! Please.!!!”

Taehyung groaned.

“Baby, listen to me... just leave with Eun Woo for now , he won’t touch you, I’ll make sure of that.....”

“No you can’t make sure of that!!” i snapped. “ You don’t know how it felt to have his hands on me.... I.... I can’t bear the thought of him near me... Please, please, get me out of here.”

A steady beeping made me jump and I stared at the phone in my hand. A red light blinked steadily on the upper edge made my heart drop. The battery was running out. Of course it was . I hadn’t used this in days.

Tears sprung before I could tamp down on my own misery,

"Tae...Can you hear me?” I choked out. “ Tae... I can’t explain it. I feel weird.... I feel miserable and scared and to be honest, I hate my own skin right now.... Ever since he touched me... I feel like ....”

Another series of beeps and the call ended. My fingers were shaking as i stared at the phone in misery.

This whole thing was spiraling into something scary and unpredictable and for once, the fear refused to ebb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Taehyung...we can’t...”

“Call him.... We’re moving this thing up to tonight. I’m not waiting a whole four days to rip these bastards to shreds. ” Taehyung roared, clenched fist coming down on the mahogany surface of his table with enough force that Namjoon heard the tell tale sound of wood splintering.

He flinched.

Taehyung was enraged and the beta wolves felt like they were walking on literal eggshells.

Seokjin held a hand up, trying to calm the infuriated wolf.

“Okay... Okay...listen , we can’t just go in guns blazing and just kill some of the most prominent men in the country, Taehyung. That’s not how it works. ”

Taehyung tried to keep his temper in check but it was impossible. God, the way she had sounded on the phone. Cha Eun Woo was lucky he wasn’t in front of him right now... Taehyung was going to tear him limb from limb for this.

“So what, I just hand her over to him for the next five days?” He snarled. That wasn’t going to happen. it would be one thing if she was comfortable with it, but there was no way he was letting Eun Woo within fifty feet of her, not when she sounded so upset.

“This is what happens when you ignore your fucking biology and act like a whole entire idiot. “ Seokjin snaps. “ There’s a reason people spend days locked in after mating!! Your bond is fragile and sensitive. Just because you don’t want to fuck her into the wall anymore , it doesn’t mean your bond is settled. She’s probably feeling just as worse....and she likely has no clue why ...”

Taehyung felt his head throb.

“She’s human...she won’t feel the bond...” He muttered.

Seokjin scoffed.

“Are you serious, Tae? The mating bite connects you to her. You know that right? Yes, its not going to be as potent as it is for us , but human mates can sense the bond. The reason she’s so desperate to see you right now is because you carted her off with another wolf, before the bond could even settle. A wolf who for all intents and purposes sexually assaulted her.”

Taehyung’s breath caught in his throat.

He’d been avoiding that thought , tried to downplay what Eun Woo had done, just for the sake of his own sanity. But Seokjin was right. What Eun Woo had done was just that and Taehyung had literally given him the license to do it.

“I need to see her .” He whispered softly.

“I’ll go get her.” Namjoon replied gently.. Taehyung stared at him, frowning.

“How?” he asked, shortly. His mind felt so foggy, so unlike himself. He was usually the sharpest man in any room, solving problems before they even cropped up, ever missing anything. But right now, he couldn’t think beyond getting her back in his arms.

“With them... I’ll go with them and tell Eun Woo I’m going to bring Mirae here..... Will that be enough? We’re this close to ending this for good, Tae. Don’t ..let your instincts mess this for you...”

Seokjin scoffed.

“Shut the fuck up, the pair of you. Taehyung stop thinking with your dick for a second and consider what we’ve been doing..... This raid has been in the works for three whole years. We’re not going to do something stupid now. Namjoon and i will go see Eun Woo....Give him a taste of what will happen if he touches Rae.... and then we’ll be back here.”

He smiled then, wide and beautiful and even Taehyung felt a cold shiver run up his spine.

Seokjin continued,

“ Five days from now, we’re going in, collecting enough evidence to bring the bastards down and then, to satisfy Taehyung’s bloodthirsty soul, we’ll rip a few throats out too. How’s that sound? ”

it sounded fucking fantastic especially the last bit.

“What if you piss Eun Woo off and he calls off the whole thing...?” Namjoon protested and Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“The mutt’s playing in the big league now. He was the one who offered them the whole show, think they’ll take too kindly to him backing out all of a sudden? Probably won’t..... He’s gonna have to stick with it. If for no other reason than to cover his own ass. ”

“You’re not leaving Rae with him. I want to come with you guys....” Taehyung said firmly.

“Oh, God. No. Absolutely not. I’m not burying Cha Eun Woo’s decapitated body tonight. That’s just not going to happen.” Namjoon held his hands up.

Seokjin grinned.

“As loathe as I am to admit it, Namjoon is right. You don’t have to be there. Don’t worry, we’ll be thorough. Make sure he understands we aren’t playing around. And we’ll think of something with your girlfriend. We can’t bring her to you.... Jae hyung has eyes on you , you know that. We’ll make sure she’s somewhere safe. ”

“You know you can trust us , Tae. We’re going to make sure this fool gets what he deserves.”

Taehyung nodded, skin still thrumming with discomfort. He wasn’t going to feel better until he saw her, but it looked like he had to wait for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at the two wolves flanking Eun Woo, each one holding him up by one arm, his knees bent at an odd angle. He looked unconscious .

“Sorry. He wasn’t supposed to pass out but the fucker’s just a huge ass coward. Didn’t even last five minutes.”

“Five minutes of what?” I whispered, staring in mild horror at the blood dripping steadily from the man’s temple.

“Five minutes of us demonstrating what happens to people who covet things that don’t belong to them.” Seokjin smiled brightly.

“Jungkook’s on the way here.... You know him right? Taehyung told me he’s a friend of yours. He’s going to let you crash with him for a couple of days That okay? “

I stared between the two of them.

“Are you sure? My father....”

“Oh your father won’t know, sweetheart, don’t worry about that. You know the original plan was for us to just warn this fool and he would come to his senses . But he chose to be an idiot and mouthed off about fucking anyone he wants to fuck.... So, Joon and I are going to keep him away from you. We owe Taehyung that much.” The wolf had a breathtaking face, impossible to look away from.

“Can’t I go to Taehyung?” I said stupidly and they exchanged looks.

“No wonder he’s whipped. She’s gorgeous.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

Seokjin elbowed him sharply.

“Uh.. no. That’s going to be difficult because ....well, for starters its going to be pretty suspicious if you randomly show up at the Official residence of a Minister.”

I flushed.

“He’s not staying at his condo?” I asked hesitant.

Seokjin shook his head.

“He’s taking office in a few days, Yoon Mi Rae, ssi. He’s under the limelight right now. Which is why we think it would be safer for you to stay elsewhere. Your father is probably watching him closely.”

I closed my eyes, feeling jittery. I startled when arms wrapped around me, warm and firm.

“hey..... you alright?” The taller, dimpled wolf gave me a concerned glance and i realized I’d swayed a little.

“I’m sorry... I’m fine.. I’m just...”

“It’s the bond.” Seokjin said gently and I stared at him.

“Bond?” I muttered, confused.

“He claimed you. It sounds archaic but you do belong to him. Your body recognizes that even if your heart or mind doesn’t. “ He sounded almost apologetic.

I groaned.

“So I’m going to feel this way...”

“Anytime someone else gets close to you, yes.”

I remembered how averse I had been to Jungkook touching me in the tub, that morning after.

“So this isn’t real? I want to be with him but it isn’t real...and I can’t be with anyone else either -”

“Hey...Hey...listen. That’s not what I’m saying. Just the fact that the bond formed is proof that you guys have something special. If you weren’t into each other his wolf would have rejected the bond at once. But I’m just saying, for a few days, maybe indulge your baser instincts and stick to him, yeah? Once the bond settles , you can make better decisions without being physically affected by them.” Seokjin said gently.

I sighed peering over at Eun Woo.

“What are you going to do with him?”

Seokjin hesitated.

“Take him to our place probably. Can’t risk him running around wrecking havoc. Don’t worry about it. Five days max. This whole thing will blow over and you won’t have to see him again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay?” Jungkook placed a pair of towels at the foot of the bed, looking concerned as he stared at me. I sat on the bed, knees drawn up and arms folded over them staring at him.

“I’m so screwed.” I whispered.

Jungkook smiled.

“It always feels that way.... at first. Don’t worry, you guys will work this out.”

“I’m scared. My father ...he... he’s always been a bastard but... I never saw him as someone dangerous. But I think he is. I’m scared he’s going to hurt Taehyung.” I said softly, finally voicing what I’d been worried about all along.

Jungkook gave me a sharp look.

“That’s not going to be easy. Hyung can take care of himself. I’m an alpha myself and you won’t see me going against him. Everyone knows he’s not someone you should underestimate. “

“But I’m still worried..... I... I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I’m glad you don’t want me dead anymore.”

Taehyung’s voice sent a jolt of electric current straight up my spine. I scrambled, turning around to the window in shock.

The alpha sat perched on the window sill, looking entirely unbothered for someone dangling a good fifty feet off the ground.

“Hyung , what? Get in here!!!” Jungkook hissed, reaching for him, but he was already throwing his legs over and dropping to the carpeted floor with ease.

“Don’t trust you enough to leave her with you for the night, Jungkook-ah...” He said casually, but his eyes danced with mirth.

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“She smells like you now hyung.... I’m not going there ..”

Taehyung gave me a surprised look.

“She does?”

“The bond’s settling then.” Jungkook said. “ This is my cue to leave. Where’s your security detail hyung? Tell me I’m not going to get shot in my sleep for kidnapping the Minister for Supernatural affairs.”

Taehyung chuckled.

“They know where I am... I’m only here for the night. I have stuff to do in the morning.” He turned to me holding his arms out, “ You okay?”

I threw myself at him without a second thought.

It felt like gears slotting together perfectly, his arm around me calming the simmering discomfort under my skin so quickly that I went limp.

I closed my eyes, gripping his tight, letting my eyes fall shut as I inhaled the musky , woody scent of him. I heard the door close softly behind Jungkook and Taehyung ran his palms up and down my back.

“I may possibly be the worst mate in history.” He commented mildly.

I snorted.

“There’s no competition there. You win, hands down.” I muttered. He pulled back to stare at me, hands coming up to gently cup my face.

“I’m going to kill him.” He said softly and I frowned.

“I thought he was only doing what you asked him to.” I said , frowning.

Taehyung gave me a sharp glance. His hands slipped to my wrists, tugging me to the bed. I settled on the mattress and he took his shoes off carefully.

“God, no. Do you really think I’d do something like that?” He gave me a wounded look and i bit my lips.

“How would i know? All you told me was that you needed Cha Eun Woo to help you”

Taehyung hesitated.

“He’s been running a brothel in that resort. A brothel were old or impotent wolves can watch alphas knot human women..... Its been going on for a while. i never knew. He’s been hiding it really well.”

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

Suddenly, the way he had talked about how I would look, having sex with an alpha wolf, the way he had described it to those men, it made sense.

“He told them ... he made it seem like I was one of those women.” Bile rose up in my throat.

Taehyung reached out, fingers lightly gripping my waist and tugging me closer.

I hesitated, not sure what he wanted but he scooted back to lean on the headboard, long legs stretched out in front of him and he held his hand out again.

“Come here.” He whispered gently. “ i can think better if you’re in front of me”

Seokjin’s words echoed in my head , maybe indulge your baser instincts and stick to him, yeah? Once the bond settles , you can make better decisions.

I crawled over on my knees.

Taehyung reached out , gripped my waist with both hands and lifted me straight up into his lap like I weighed nothing. i yelped, knees hitting the mattress on either side of his waist as I tried to spread my thighs wide enough to accommodate him .

He kept his hands on my waist, grabbing the hem of my blouse and tugging it out of my skirt. He slipped his fingers in till he grazed my bare skin, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the heated flesh.

“Feel good?” He whispered softly.

I tilted my head, regarding him thoughtfully.

“When have you ever made me feel anything but good, Alpha Kim?” I smirked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

The fingers on my waist tightened, hard enough to bruise and I choked , gripping his shoulders , feeling the hard jut of his shoulder blades beneath my fingers.

“Behave.” He warned softly, “ I’m trying to start this right.”

I sighed.

“Start what?”

“This.. You and I. Together. As more than just friends.”

I straightened, surprised.

“Taehyung-”

“I came here tonight, not because I had to...not because I needed to... but because I wanted to. I want you to know that. I’m here not by obligation but because I wanted to see you. Because I care for you.” He stared right at me but i couldn’t help but be wary.

I looked away.

“That's not what you said the last time we met which was literally this morning...” i protested.

“ Rae, I was so fucking scared. I’ve been living inside my own head for too damn long. I’ve always had these....fucking rules inside me. Rules that i couldn’t bring myself to break. I don’t break the law, I don’t get involved with humans, I don’t trust humans, I always do stuff by the book..... But today, just...seeing what happened at that pool...... I realized I’ve been so fucking blind. ”

I swallowed.

“That’s not your fault...”

“It is... “ He said shortly. “ I’ve been so caught up with keeping my own rules, with fighting humans that I forgot that not all wolves are saints either. I’ve been so focused on your father because he’s human that I didn’t even consider that the men actually funding and dueling this entire drug racket...they’re wolves like me. That it isn’t humans who exploit us but men in power. Men in power who twist the law and use it as leeway to do whatever shit they want. “

“You couldn’t have known.” I said weakly.

“I could have. If I’d wanted to. Two months ago Cha Eun Woo built a beach side resort in Jeju Do, very close to some endangered coral reefs I remember reading about it and wondering how he could have possibly gotten a permit to do that shit. But then i never followed through with it. And I wonder if it was because I considered him a friend. A friend whose favor I would need in the future. And what does it say about me, if my moral values are so selective? I can’t act high and mighty about bringing your father down while I’ve been letting Cha Eun Woo run a fucking sex trade right under my nose.”

I pressed a palm to his face, my heart breaking at the sheer exhaustion on his face.

“You can’t fix the entire world, Taehyung. You’re not meant to single handedly solve every problem in the country...... “ I whispered.

He shuddered.

“But if i don’t , who will?” He stared at me. “ Someone has to make an effort right?”

I nodded.

“Yes... You’re right. And you’ve done enough. You’ve done more than your fair share. And you can do so much more, if you let yourself relax. If you let yourself breathe when you’re drowning you can swim so much further.”

He stared at me.

“My daughter.” He choked out. “ She really thinks you’re her mother. “

I bit my lips in distress.

“Tae, I’m so sorry-”

“ Her mother died when she was barely three....So she doesn’t remember her much. She only remembers her scent which was yours.... She... She really wants you with us, Rae.”

“You shouldn’t have said that on the phone. What were you thinking calling me her mother...” I whispered, shaking my head.

“ I think I saw you as Luna’s mother. the moment you held her that day, in the dock , in the rain. The way she relaxed in your arms...The way her face lights up at the thought of you... I... I want that for her. I want her to have that...forever.”

I let myself look at him.

“And what about you? What do you want? “

He held my gaze for a long time. I felt my heart begin to pound, anticipation clawing up my spine.

“a bowl of patbingsu would feel great.” He said seriously.

It took me a second to realize what he’d just said. I punched his shoulders, not in the mood for jokes at all.

“Sorry sorry...that was bad timing.” He grinned.

“The worst. Are you asking me out or not?” I demanded.

"I am asking you to move in.” He said softly. “ As my mate.”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

“It may seems too much , especially for a human but I’m a were and I want you in my house. Want your scent there, mingling with mine and I want my daughter to see us together. I want you to be...the woman I love.”

“Don’t throw the L word around like that . It scares me..” I muttered and he smiled.

“I’m not a teenager Rae. The L word as you call it, it doesn’t scare me. I have a daughter, I know love in its purest form. And I’m not afraid of saying it either.”

“Well, I’m just not sure if you even mean it.” I said desperately.

“I do mean it. I love you and I know that because I broke every rule I’ve been keeping for the past twenty years , just because of a five minute video clip of another guy touching you .”

I shook my head.

I felt overwhelmed.

Somewhere beneath that chaos, I was happy, of course I was. But for now, the exhaustion and weariness won out, and I edged closer, resting my head on his shoulders.

He hugged me closer and i felt the gentle press of his lips against the top of my head.

“Let’s sleep.” I whispered. “ I’m so tired.”

He hummed.

“Would you like me to leave?”

I shook my head.

“No. Stay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up sometime in the middle of the night, to find myself on my side his arms wrapped right around me, tight and firm. I wondered how numb his arm must be, and wriggled a bit, swallowing the dryness in my throat.

He grunted and gripped my waist, stopping me from moving.

“You need to stop grinding on my dick, darling.” He choked out. I froze, face flaming.

“Sorry... I...”

“It’s alright. What’s wrong?” He whispered, fingers brushing my hair back.

I stared at the wall in front of me, lightly stroking the arm wrapped around my waist.

“I feel better when I’m with you.” I whispered. “ Even when i barely saw you, those months in your home in the preserve...I always felt better when you were around. It was irrational, how much I liked you and wanted to be with you, seeing as I didn’t know much about you at all... And It makes me wonder, if perhaps you and I, perhaps we aren’t that different.” I said.

He hummed.

“How so?”

“Maybe wolves aren’t the only ones who can sense their mates . Maybe humans can too....maybe we sense it but we’re just too scared to act on it.”

“Why should you be scared...?”

“Because sometimes, even your mate rejects you and that stings.” I smiled. His grip tightened around me.

“I will spend the rest of my life atoning for what I put you through...” He kissed my neck and I trembled.

“It wasn’t a sin.” I said laughing at how serious he sounded. “ It was you being true to yourself . i appreciate that.”

“But I hurt you. I hurt my mate. As a wolf that is unforgivable.”

“Well , then you’re lucky that I’m not a wolf, aren’t you? Because I’ve already forgiven you.”

He tugged me around gently till I was on my back, before climbing on top of me.

“Can I kiss you?” He brushed the hair off my face.

“I don’t know. Can you?” I grinned at him.

He growled.

“brat.”

He pressed his lips against mine, a soft and gentle touch that lasted for just a few seconds before he drew back.

And then he leaned in again, this time , lips parting, soft and wet as it closed over mine, tongue sweeping across the seam of my lips, begging entrance. I relaxed into the pillows , letting him take the lead.

Taehyung kissed like he did everything else, firm and hard but somehow careful and gentle.

The soft press of his fingers on my chin as he tilted my face for better access, the way his tongue licked into my mouth in soft kittenish licks, the way his teeth nibbled on the plushness of my lip, only for his tongue to lick and sooth the sting right after....

His kisses tasted like scotch and honey, like spring water in the middle of summer , cool and refreshing nd reaching so far inside me that I ached for it. He was strong and warm against me, his hair felt like spun silk beneath my fingers . i traced the contours of his face , the sharp edge of his jawline, the softness of his perfect brows and the sharpness of his collarbones.

My mind was reeling by the time he pulled away.

“Can I fuck you ?” He asked softly and I jolted at the filthy words in that deep earnest tone.

“I don’t know Can yo-?”

He didn’t let me finish. Groaning as he sat up, gripping the hem of his t shirt and peeling it off. I watched as he shimmied out of jungkook’s sweatpants ,before straddling me again.

“Take that t shirt off for me.” He smiled and I quickly shrugged it off.

“Mmm.... beautiful. I love your breasts....such pretty pink nipples.” He said casually and i choked a bit when he reached down, thumbing at the hard nubs till they pebbled up under his touch.

I threw my head back as he bent over, peppering kisses all over my jaw before moving down to lick my nipple, lips closing over the nub for one second before nipping at them with his teeth. I felt the hardness of his erection against the softness of my stomach as he grabbed my panties, tugging them off me.

“I like it rough.” I whispered into his ear and he growled, reaching forward and grabbed the hair at the back of my head, yanking me away from his face.

“Then let me fuck your face.” He said casually, scooting forward and pressing his cock right up against my lips. I took the hard length of him into my mouth. He tasted tangy and familiar , from the texture of his skin like silk on steel , to the way slight saltiness of his precum on my tongue. I loved the way his fingers gripped my hair, just a little too tight for comfort and a little short of violent.

I moaned in disappointment when he pulled out a little, but only to place himself properly , one hand gripping the head board for support. Bracing himself against the headboard, Taehyung threaded one hand through my hair, gripping carefully till heat seeped through my entire body at the sting of it, and then he began thrusting into my mouth gently, pushing past my teeth and deeper into my mouth. I inhaled each time he pulled out, trying to tamp down my gag reflex, as i took the entire hot, wet length of him inside my mouth.

He picked up the pace, letting go of the head board in favor of gripping my hair in both hands, holding me in place as he fucked into my mouth till my eyes watered.

I felt myself dripping wet with arousal and I tapped his thighs. He pulled back to stare at me.

“You alright?”

“Fuck me.” I choked out, throat fucked raw and voice breaking. “Need you inside me now-”

He didn’t wait for me to elaborate, grabbing my waist and turning me over at once.

“Hands and knees., grab the headboard.” He growled and I scampered to obey.

“Good girl, Now just hold on let me make you feel good, yeah, baby?”

I felt a soft, wet kiss right on my spine, before fingers gripped my hair again , tugging me back just as he slid right into me.

The shock of it made me stop breathing, his cock so thick and hard it felt like I’d been split open.

“How does that feel baby? ...” He whispered, bending over and kissing my neck. “ Am i making you feel good” I fought to get words out and then groaned when he slid back in , a little rougher and a little faster.

He stopped again, pulling out and hitting my thigh, the sharp sting making me yelp.

“Roll over, sweetheart.” He whispered and I blinked groggily, rolling over to stare at him. He grabbed a spare pillow, folding it in half before pushing it under my hips.

i blinked in confusion as he loomed over me again, this time grabbing my leg and throwing it over his shoulder. before pushing back in. deeper this time, the tip of his cock hitting so deep that I felt a sting of pain that made me wince.

He caught the look on my face and smiled, apologetic.

“Sometimes, too big isn’t too good. You’re a little small for me, I’m hitting your cervix. Let me fix that.” He fixed the pillow again and this time when he pushed in , it was pure pleasure, his cock brushing my g spot with ease and making me clench around him like a vice. He moved to his knees, still inside me and I groaned in protest when his weight lifted off me.

“Wanna see you cum, angel..” He whispered, using his thumb to press and slide over my clit in smooth, little strokes . I could feel my wetness leaking all over the place and I felt my throat go dry when he scooped up the dampness, before tracing the slick wetness all over my nipples and bending low and licking it all off.

“Taste so sweet, my baby...” He whispered, “ Wanna try?”

I barely registered what he said, eyes fluttering shut and I yelped when he lightly flicked my lips.

“Open your mouth..you should taste how good you are...” He grinned wickedly.

Before i could reply he was already slipping two fingers between my legs, collecting more of the heady slickness. I moaned as he slipped the fingers into my mouth, smearing it all over my tongue , the spicy sweetness foreign and yet arousing against my tongue. I felt my eyes widen as the taste filled my tongue, making me clench harder around him.

“Tell me you taste good...” He pulled back and rammed again inside me , is fingers moving back to my hair and gripping tight.

“I.. i taste good..” I stuttered.

He grinned in appreciation and held my hips, swiftly flipping us over till I was on top, his cock slipping out of me because of how wet and messy i was. I struggled to pace myself and yelped when he casually grabbed my hips, lifting me up and bringing me down till I took the entire hard length of him inside.

“Wait...stop.” He said suddenly and I froze. And then he was sitting up and turning me around making me kneel, facing away from him and i finally noticed the large dresser mirror, right across from the bed.

I met his gaze through the reflection, swallowing.

“When I watched you put on make up today, the way you stared at me through the mirror and put me in my place.... I was thinking I should do this.... .stare at you through a mirror someday and put you in your place. Didn’t think it would be so soon, baby.”

I panted as he moved behind me, using his hands to lightly part my thighs. And the he was pushing closer, sliding into me and I gasped, gripping him tighter as he used one hand to fondle my breast while the other wrapped tight around my hip, bracing me for his thrusts.

It lasted less than two minutes. I came unraveled, my mind exploding in glorious white hot pleasure and his warmth washed inside me, filling me and dripping down my thighs till i fell back against him, boneless and spent .I fell forward on to mattress, my limb jelly and he groaned, draping himself over me.

“Hope that was sufficiently rough and filthy for you, my dear.” He whispered.

I could barely think, let alone string words together so i stayed quiet, letting him pull me closer and hold me tight.

i shifted as he moved to settle his head on my breasts, his arms and legs draping over me while his breath fanned hot and cold against my sweat slicked skin.

His phone buzzed right next my head and he frowned.

And then he laughed, turning to show me the screen

From Jeon Jungkook :

I’m in the next room hyung!! Fucking stop. !!!

I grinned despite myself.

Good Lord.

~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note :

Ummm...hi?

Guess this isn’t ending in ten chapters fml.

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@bumb1e–bee

Some of you sent me an ask to be tagged but i couldn’t tag you guys...probably because you’ve made your profile private.... So I’m sorry about that.

#taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung werewolf au #bts werewolf au #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts fics #bts taehyung #taehyung fics

320 notes · View notes

when-they-write-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

IT WAS UNFAIR, Stiles thought, that Derek Hale was so freaking hot.

It wasn’t just because it was a summer day and he swore, it had to be over a hundred degrees. It wasn’t just because the man had shed his shirt long ago, working alongside the betas as they started the paneling of the Hale house’s unfinished porch. And it wasn’t just because Stiles was a raging bisexual and Derek Hale was exactly his kind of dream guy.

Except maybe it was all of those things. Maybe it was because Derek Hale was so goddamn gorgeous, so very shirtless, and so freaking muscled, Stiles couldn’t wrap his head around it all. And— and shit. It wasn’t fair, Stiles thought.

It wasn’t fair that Derek Hale was so freaking hot.

Sighing, he took another long drink of his lemonade, protected by the shade of the trees from across the lawn. He’d started out the afternoon helping the others work on the Hale house, he really had. But Stiles was just human, okay? He wasn’t nearly as muscled or effortlessly tireless as the others. And he’d never admit this any other time, but he was totally okay with being the token human for the day while the others worked their werewolfy asses off.

Sitting next to him, strawberry-blonde hair whisping slightly in the faint breeze, Lydia looked like she felt exactly the same.

“I never thought I’d look at a handful of shirtless, sweaty boys and feel nothing,” she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. Stiles choked on his sip of lemonade and Lydia smirked, glancing over at him before her gaze drifted back across the lawn toward Derek. “Just like I’m sure you never thought you’d look at such a hot, shirtless Hale and feel so much.”

“Oh my god, Lydia, really?”

Lydia just hummed and Stiles desperately tried not to blush, dropping his eyes to the dirt. Because his worst nightmare was that one day Derek would overhear what Lydia voiced in ‘private’, and he might just have to throw himself off a cliff if that ever happened.

And he was too young to die.

“Please, just never say that again,” Stiles said. “Like, ever.”

“You know it’s true, though.”

Stiles shot her a sharp look, which the girl completely ignored. But if Stiles had anything to say about it, Lydia was definitely wrong. And— and even if she wasn’t, it wasn’t like he was that obvious about certain things, okay? He definitely wasn’t obvious.

In fact, Stiles would like to state for the record that he was the total and complete opposite of anything Lydia ever said.

Always.

Because Stiles had never tripped over his own feet after Derek flashed red eyes in his direction. And he’d never run face-first into a wall when the man had simply growled his name. He’d never accidentally spilled coffee down the front of his shirt when Derek had brushed a little too close and he’d never almost had a heart attack when Derek had shoved him into a wall after Stiles had spilled a certain... beverage all over the man’s shoes.

Okay, okay, maybe he had done these things before. Once. On the same day. But that was just once.

Just once.

And Stiles was pretty sure nothing like that would ever happen again. In that order, at least.

Yet, here he was, doing his best to pretend like a shirtless and sweaty Derek Hale wasn’t doing unseemly things to him. Unseemingly things like fixating only on the unseemly that he’d like Derek to be doing to him. Because, well, the things he’d let Derek do to him...

“Stiles,” Lydia said, interrupting his daydream. “You’re drooling.”

Stiles snapped back to reality, shaking his head, and automatically flushed at her smug look. “I am not.”

“You are. And it’s a bit pathetic.”

“Okay, you know what? You’re a bit pathe—” Lydia gave him a dangerous look and Stiles promptly snapped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“Wise choice.”

“But I wasn’t drooling.”

Smirking, Lydia gazed back toward the Hale house. Then, a devious look crossed her face and she glanced over at him before nodding toward where the others had stopped to take a break on the half-finished steps. “You know, you could be over there giving Derek a reason to drool over you.”

Stiles blinked. “Uh, you mean get all sweaty and gross too? No thanks.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “I mean stop hiding over here and go get yourself worked up over there. Show those idiot wolves what Stiles Stilinski has to offer.”

“Okay, first of all, that is never going to happen,” Stiles said. “And seriously, Lydia, you’re a menace. Do you know what lies under all of this?” He gestured down at himself and accidentally sloshed lemonade over his hand, cursing. Point one for what Stiles Stilinski had to offer. “Absolutely nothing, that’s the answer. Nothing but pale skin, weak everything, and the proof that I’ve spent most of my life living off of curly fries and milkshakes instead of that green crap I make my dad eat.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused. Sighing, Stiles turned his gaze back across the lawn.

“What I would give for some werewolf abs, though.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Oh, that's absolutely how it works,” Stiles shot back. “Trust me, I know. I’m the pack expert, remember? The packspert, if you will. And you all rely on me to know these things.”

“Hm.”

Stiles took another sip of his lemonade, eyes still on Derek. Because he definitely was the pack expert, thank you very much. And werewolves like Derek Hale were definitely hot— it was part of the package deal.

Stiles, on the other hand, was lacking hotness on many levels.

And that’s why he was here, sitting far away from where Derek and any of the other werewolves who could catch wind of his... thoughts, daydreaming about a grumpy-growly alpha who would never see him as more than ‘skinny, defenseless, Stiles’. And he was totally okay with that, Stiles told himself. He was.

He’d always been better at lying to himself than others.

Three months before Stiles graduated Beacon Hills High, the Hale house was finally finished.

He thought it was a little strange how four years ago, the first time he’d laid eyes on the old house it had been nothing but a skeleton, the remnants looking like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment.

It was all different now.

The Hale house looked a little bit like the ‘before’ pictures Stiles had once caught Derek studying— although there were also a few different things added on. Like the archery targets, for example. Or the giant porch that curved around to the back of the house, complete with a fire pit and a grill.

Stiles couldn’t wrap his mind around ever seeing Derek Hale grill.

And yeah, the house looked a bit like these pictures Stiles had once caught Derek studying. The man had slammed them down and given Stiles a red-eyed alpha look before he could get a good look, but Stiles had ducked back into the room much later, finding a picture left behind that showed the Hale family standing in front of the house before it burned.

The younger version of Derek Hale had been smiling. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen the older one look like that before.

He’d left the room feeling a bit conflicted.

Two weeks after that, Stiles swung by the fully finished house after school, the first one to arrive before the rest of the pack. The Camaro, he noticed, was parked near the trees, but the Hale house itself seemed quiet, the newly built porch so much more welcoming than it had been all those years ago.

Stiles hesitated before climbing out of his jeep, debating waiting for one of the others to show up. Scott would probably go to Allison’s first and Lydia would probably be at Jackson’s. Stiles had no idea what the other three betas were doing, but thinking too much about what they got up to outside of Derek’s supervision never ended well.

Stiles had learned that the hard way years ago.

Faintly, looking at the silent house, he wondered if it would look like this after the summer of graduation. Something about that made Stiles’s stomach clench and he shook his head, trying to banish any thoughts of Derek Hale being stuck in an empty house all alone when they were all gone.

Forcing himself out of the car, Stiles pulled his backpack over his shoulders and started toward the house.

It was eerily silent when Stiles stepped foot through the front door. He hesitated and craned his neck to glance up the stairs, then down the hall. But the house seemed completely empty.

“Uh, Derek?”

There was almost nothing in the house yet, so Stiles’s voice echoed off the empty walls. He moved through the house quietly, checking each empty room that he passed. But the big bad alpha of Beacon Hills didn’t seem to be anywhere around.

Stepping into the living room, Stiles paused. Sitting across the room was a single chair, facing where Isaac had stated the ‘necessary’ pack TV had to go. Behind it was a single picture frame on the wall and as Stiles moved closer, he realized it was the same one he’d seen weeks ago.

The glowing eyes that reflected back at the camera were only a little creepy.

“Stiles?”

“Shit!”

Stiles spun around so fast, he nearly tripped over his own feet. Derek stood in the doorway of the room, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket and a confused, if not a little concerned, look on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I… thought we were all meeting here after school?”

Derek raised an eyebrow but didn’t offer an answer. Fishing out his phone, Stiles scrolled through his unread messages and— shit. There were a number of cancellations from the others, one after the other.

Stiles swallowed hard, glancing back up. “Okay, I might be wrong.”

Derek just continued to eye him. Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Stiles glanced around the near-empty room and desperately wracked his brain, trying to think of a reason that he should not be around either. Because what was he even supposed to do now?

This was not going according to plan.

“Well then,” he said, avoiding Derek’s unnerving stare. “I should be going.”

The silence continued to reign and when Stiles glanced back up, Derek just shrugged, turning away. And Stiles didn’t know where the hell the werewolf had come from or where he was going now, but he was not going to wait around and see.

Things did not need to be any more awkward.

Gripping the straps of his backpack tighter, Stiles made for the back door instead— the quickest escape route. Though, he still paused at the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. Derek was gone now, but Stiles noticed a single empty plate on the table next to the single empty chair— the few things in the near-empty room

The house suddenly seemed even quieter than before.

Stomach twisting, Stiles swallowed hard and shook his head, ducking out the back door into the cool evening air. And he didn’t look back until he was in his jeep again, staring at the looming house.

He thought he saw movement in the highest window; the quickest flash of shadow. But when he blinked and looked again, the window was empty and the house stood still. Still, dark, and almost a little more menacing than before.

Stiles jammed the key into the ignition and drove away faster than was probably necessary.

Stiles thought his crush on Derek Hale started sometime after his freshman year.

After Derek stopped scaring the ever-living crap out of him and Stiles came to terms with his possible bisexuality, he realized that yeah, Lydia Martin was hot. But Derek Hale was hot too. And it was kind of hard to look at either of them without his heart skipping a beat or two, which Stiles figured probably meant something.

But his possible attraction to Derek didn’t matter, he’d decided. His sixteen-year-old self was sure that he’d be marrying Lydia Martin one day and with that picture in mind, he could just appreciate Derek for what he was— a hot guy.

But then sometime around his junior year, Stiles realized he probably wasn’t going to marry Lydia Martin. And that… that was fine too.

One year later, he was completely fine with how everything had turned out.

By the time the Hale house was fully furnished, the pack spent nearly every afternoon there. It was nice; close by and large enough for them all. And sometimes, when Stiles came through the front door and met Derek’s gaze, he thought he could remember this one strange feeling he’d had the very first time he’d laid eyes on the man. So many years ago.

Or maybe, that one time in the pool. Or the kanima incident at the sheriff’s station nearly three years ago.

Or the first time Derek had come through Stiles’s window looking for research help.

“Stiles? Bro, Earth to Stiles.”

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts as an elbow jabbed into his side. Yelping, he glared sideways at the offender; and Scott just grinned innocently back, nodding toward the others.

“We’re all gonna go see a movie tonight. You in?”

“A movie?”

“Yeah, man. They’re doing replays of Star Wars all weekend.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You do realize there’s a TV here, right? One that Isaac literally said was a ‘life or death’ necessity.”

Sitting on the floor across the room, Isaac flushed. “It is.”

“So…”

“Yeah, but Star Wars,” Scott said. Stiles snorted.

“Dude, I literally own all of them. What about a movie night here? Oh, we could even get pizza!”

Scott exchanged a dubious look with Allison, who shrugged. Stiles glanced at Erica, where she was wrapped around Boyd on the couch. The girl hesitated, then cast a dreamy look upward, smacking her lips together. “Movie popcorn easily outweighs boxed pizza, Batman. I vote for the movie theater.”

“I second that,” Jackson said, smirking over at Stiles. Stiles glared at him.

“You don’t get a vote, lizard boy.”

Jackon’s eyes flashed gold. “Say that again, Stilinsksi.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Lydia said, giving Stiles a warning look. He just rolled her eyes and the red-haired girl considered for a moment, before shrugging. “I agree with Jackson.”

“Ugh,” Stiles groaned. “Don’t side with the snake.”

But the decision was already made up, apparently, as Scott jumped to his feet with a grin. “Sweet!” he said, pulling Allison up too. “Let’s get out of here then.”

Stiles didn’t even have a chance to protest before Erica was snatching the jeep’s keys off the coffee table and taking off toward the door, the holler of ‘shotgun!’ left in the air at her back. Groaning, he ran a hand through his hair and then slowly pushed himself up too.

It was only then that he noticed Derek hadn’t moved a muscle from his spot in the furthest corner of the room.

“Uh, hey, Sourwolf, you coming?”

Grey-green eyes lifted from his book and Derek gave him an unimpressed look. “No.”

“What? Why not?”

This time, Derek’s brows furrowed. And yeah, Stiles supposed the book and the whole grumpy-growly attitude Derek had going on was probably a pretty telling answer. But he still couldn’t squash a strange feeling of disappointment.

“Come on, dude, it’ll be fun! Movie popcorn! I’ll even buy.”

To his surprise, the furrow between Derek’s eyes actually seemed to soften a little. Well, maybe it did. Just a little bit. “No, Stiles. You go.”

That strange feeling of disappointment grew even more. Stiles frowned. “Seriously, dude?”

And just like that, the unimpressed furrow was back again. Along with a flicker of red. “Yes, Stiles. Go.”

And yep, that was the Alpha werewolf that used to scare the crap out of Stiles all those years ago. Sighing, he turned away and waved a hand over his shoulder in dismissal. “Fine, Sourbutt. But you’re missing out on a good time!”

Stiles didn’t get an answer. But he hadn’t really expected one.

The house was silent as he left.

The weekend before graduation, Lydia had a party.

Stiles had been looking forward to it for weeks. Mostly because, yeah, the last party Lydia had hosted ended up going horribly wrong, but weren’t things different now? They hadn’t faced a supernatural threat in months and Stiles was finally starting to remember what it felt like to be a normal teenager again.

So, he was pretty excited for Lydia’s party. And of course, if he had still been in love with her, this would have been the most nerve-wracking night of his life. But Stiles was all good now and he was ready to have fun, do a little dancing, and maybe get a bit drunk if he thought he could get away with it.

He didn’t get a little drunk.

Somehow, three hours after arrival, Stiles was pretty sure he was wasted.

Keeping up with the werewolves was hard, he quickly came to realize, even if they laced their drinks with wolfsbane for a little extra kick. One hour in, Scott, Allison, and Isaac were nowhere to be seen. Two hours in, Erica was doing her best to convince Boyd to go around scaring the shit out of other drunks with their flashing eyes. And three hours in, Stiles had no idea where Lydia had gone, but the entire room was spinning so fast, he was pretty sure he was either going to pass out or hurl. Whatever came first.

He didn’t actually do either.

Instead, somehow, Stiles ended up at the Hale house when the moon was high in the sky. It was dark enough that he could barely see the way to the front door, but that proved not to be a problem when he fell face-first out of his jeep the moment he managed to open the car door.

And shit, his dad was going to kill him if he ever found out about this.

Rolling onto his back, Stiles blinked up at the dark sky and groaned. He was pretty sure getting back up wasn’t an option, not unless he wanted to just go right back down. So maybe he’d just die here…

Except suddenly, a looming figure blocked his view and Stiles shrieked, kicking upward with all his strength. His foot connected with something solid and the figure grunted— and Stiles realized much too late what he’d done.

“Dammit, Stiles!”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, voice barely a whisper. Half-bent over, Derek glared at him and Stiles mustered his best smile, desperately hoping that would keep him from getting his throat ripped out on the spot. “Er, hey there, Sourwolf. Fancy seeing you here.”

Red flickered through the man’s eyes. Stiles winced and after another long moment, Derek straightened up, giving him a look that held the promise of possible murder.

“What the hell are you doing, Stiles?”

Stiles blinked at the man. Then he shrugged, shifting a little in the dirt. “Resting.”

Derek’s expression tightened. The man leaned over again, sniffed deeply, and then his face twisted. “Are you drunk?”

“Only a little.”

“Dammit, Stiles!”

“Oh, please don’t ‘dammit Stiles’ me. I came here so I wouldn’t have to hear that exact statement from my dad tonight—”

But suddenly, Derek went rigid, his eyes flashing again. Stiles cut off, looking at the man in fear, and Derek gave him the most terrifying red-eyed look that Stiles had probably ever seen.

The man really looked like he could kill someone now. And Stiles was the only person around.

But then when Derek spoke, his words were so calm, so steady, Stiles thought that was even scarier.

“Stiles, did you drive here drunk?”

Oh, shit.

Stiles opened his mouth— then closed it again. Derek’s face was carefully blank now and Stiles was pretty sure if he could actually stand, sober him would be running right now. Because this was scarier than he’d ever seen Derek— even when the man had been that grumpy-growly “I’ll rip your throat out” asshole when they’d first met.

But before Stiles could even think of an answer, he was being scooped up. A sputtering noise of surprise left his mouth as Derek all but hauled him over his shoulder and then turned around, starting toward the Hale house.

Stiles’s head pounded. His stomach churned and as he watched the ground just a few feet away from his face, he wondered what would happen if he hurled all over Derek’s back.

As if the man could read his thoughts, Derek’s grip tightened. “Don’t you dare.”

Stiles did his best to keep everything down.

The dirt of the front driveway turned into the porch steps, and then the front door slammed as the ground Stiles was looking at became hardwood. Derek hauled him into the living room and dumped him on the couch, making Stiles groan loudly.

“Oh my god, dude, my head.”

Derek gave him a look of pure fury. Any more complaints dying on his tongue, Stiles shrank back.

“I mean, never mind. I’m completely fine.”

“No, Stiles, you’re not.” Derek’s eyes sparked red. “I can’t believe you would do something so stupid. So irresponsible. ”

“I… what?”

But Derek just shook his head and turned away, stalking from the room. Stiles stared into the darkness for a moment, his thoughts moving slowly, and he totally blamed it on the alcohol. Except, he really just didn’t know what to do with what was currently unfolding.

Derek had actually sounded upset. Concerned, even.

Stiles figured he was even drunker than he’d originally thought. In fact, maybe this was all just a spiked-punch induced hallucination. Just like last time Lydia threw a party.

Except, this definitely wasn’t a nightmare.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Stiles right back out of his thoughts and he blinked in surprise as Derek stepped closer with a trash can, a glass of water, and a white bottle of pills.

“Uh,” Stiles said, utterly dumbfounded. Derek scowled at him and he shrank back again.

“You throw up on my floor,” the man growled. “I’ll rip your throat out.”

Wordlessly, Stiles nodded. Derek shoved the glass forward.

“Drink.”

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice. He drained the water in a few seconds and Derek set the bottle of pills on the side table, giving Stiles another dark look as he took the empty glass back. “Don’t take any of those until morning.”

Again, Stiles nodded. Derek set the trashcan next to the sofa and turned away again, vanishing into the darkness once more.

This time, the silence lasted a little longer. But still, Derek came into the room after a few minutes, another glass of water in hand and a rolled-up blanket tucked under his arm. As Stiles stared, the man set the water next to the pills, then unrolled the blanket and draped it over him.

Stiles felt a little bit like a child.

He honestly didn’t know how to react.

Then, finally, finally, Derek stepped back and folded his arms over his chest, surveying the entire scene as if he was satisfied with his work. Stiles stayed stock-still, kind of worried that any sudden movements would mess everything up.

Whatever ‘everything’ was right now.

Catching him staring, Derek glared again. “I’m going back to bed. If you wake me up, I’ll kill you.”

“...Got it.”

The man gave the room one more once-over and then turned away, heading back for the hallway. But before he could vanish into the dark all over again, Stiles sat straight up, internally screeching as the blood rushed to his head.

“Derek?”

The broad-shouldered silhouette paused. Stiles swallowed.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t get a single response. Not even a nod.

Stiles blinked and Derek was gone.

Graduation came and went like it wasn’t even worth the hype.

Stiles had avoided going back to the Hale house since that night, but it was like it never happened. In fact, if he hadn’t woken up to an empty house with a cup of coffee next to the glass of water and pills, Stiles might have believed it hadn’t.

But it had, which meant he’d made a complete fool of himself. And as Stiles had dragged himself off the couch and toward the front door, he’d been pretty sure he could never face Derek again. It didn’t really help that he could barely remember anything that happened that night, because what if he’d said or done something totally dumb?

Dumber than usual, that is.

So he’d decided to avoid both Derek and the Hale house for as long as possible. He’d noticed his dad never said anything too, which meant Derek hadn’t dropped by to say a word of whatever the hell had happened.

Things were fine. It was all fine.

But then, when they were all hanging out after the graduation ceremony was over, Scott told him they were holding the graduation party at the Hale house.

“Oh,” Stiles said, his throat going dry. “Oh, that’s great. Great, great, great, dude. Absolutely great.”

Scott gave him a small look of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, great, I’m just fantastic,” Stiles said. Then, sighing, he shook his head. “Okay, no, I'm not. Remember that one time I told you Lydia Martin was the only person I’d ever have feelings for? Like, ever?”

Slowly, Scott nodded. Stiles swallowed hard and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“Yeah. I think I’m in love with Derek.”

In a moment, Scott’s eyes rounded twice their usual size. Stiles winced and almost instantly wished he could take back his words. Especially when Scott nearly shouted his next words.

“You’re in love with Derek?!”

“Oh my god, Scott,” Stiles swore, clapping both hands over Scott’s mouth. But the boy just ducked away and looked at Stiles like he’d grown two heads, mouth opening and closing a few times before he spoke again.

“What does that even mean?”

“Well, gee, Scott, I don’t know. What does being in love with someone even mean?”

“You... like him?”

“Seems we’re both coming to that gradual realization, yes.”

“Like, in a good way?”

Stiles stared at the boy. “Okay, please tell me you’re kidding right now.”

But Scott just continued to stare. Then, he glanced around and leaned closer, words hushed as if he was divulging his deepest secret. “Do you mean find him... attractive?”

Stiles pulled a face and gave the boy an incredulous look. “No, Scott, I don’t think werewolves who like to growl a lot and could probably crush me like a bug are attractive. And I definitely don’t think Derek is the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Scott blinked. Then frowned. “Okay, but you’re not lying.”

“No, Scott, I’m not!”

If Stiles could go back about five minutes ago, he would probably punch his past self for ever thinking he could tell Scott something like this in public. The boy looked like he was still lost and Stiles mentally prepared himself for more questions— before Allison came out of the crowd and linked her arm through Scott’s own, giving Stiles a warm smile.

“Hey, the others are heading to Derek’s. You guys ready?”

Scott looked from Stiles, to Allison, then back. Stiles gave him a sharp, warning look, but the boy just winced apologetically and let Allison lead him away— with knowledge Stiles never should have provided.

Closing his eyes, Stiles took a few deep breaths and then trudged after the two of them, silently hating himself for every decision he’d ever made.

If he wasn’t fearing for some kind of inevitable doom, Stiles might have been amazed by how the Hale house looked in the darkness that night.

Okay, that was a lie. He was still amazed.

Lights had been strung through the rafters of the porch and multi-colored garden lanterns were stuck in the ground all around the lawn. Stiles smelled barbeque before he even stepped out of the car and almost instantly zeroed in on his dad behind the grill, looking like he was the happiest person on the planet.

Except, Derek stood beside him, laser-focused on whatever the hell the Sheriff was grilling. And Stiles was pretty sure they were talking.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

But before Stiles could rush over and intercept what he could only imagine was not a very promising conversation, there was a hand on his sleeve and he was being pulled across the lawn instead. Stiles spun around, cursing, and nearly stumbled over his own feet to see Erica looking at him with a sharp grin. One that made his blood run cold.

Yeah, this might be worse.

“So, Stiles, ” the girl said, letting go of his sleeve only when they were at the very edge of the lawn, far away from the sound of music. “You’re in love with our alpha?”

Stiles froze. Then groaned. “I swear to god, I’m going to kill Scott.”

Erica barked out a laugh. “Oh, Batman, your puny little werewolf friend didn’t have to tell me a thing.”

Stiles blinked. Erica’s grin turned sharper.

“You spent the night here,” she said smugly. “Last weekend.”

“Last weeken... oh my god.”

Crossing her arms, Erica gave him a triumphant look. And Stiles didn’t even know where to begin before the girl was speaking again. “So you’re totally head over heels for Derek then? I mean, clearly you two bange—”

“Woah, no, stop!” Stiles said, waving his hands through the air. Erica narrowed her eyes but closed her mouth, and Stiles took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I did not sleep with Derek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t,” he hissed. “It was after Lydia’s party and I was drunk. I needed somewhere to crash.”

Erica raised an eyebrow. Stiles sighed.

“I almost passed out in the driveway and then nearly threw up all over him. Trust me, you menace, that’s about as far away from sleeping with Derek that I can possibly get.”

“Okay, then,” Erica said, studying him. “But you're definitely in love with him.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. And the beta’s face lit right back up as she laughed.

“Oh, I knew it! I am so going to win this bet.”

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, Boyd didn’t think it would happen until the end of summer,” Erica continued, completely ignoring him now. “And Isaac clearly has his head up his ass because he didn’t think it was going to happen at all—”

“Hold up,” Stiles said, cutting her off. “What are you talking about? What bet?”

Erica straightened. Then, she grinned.

“Nothing. No bet.”

“Oh, hell no,” Stiles said, shooting a look over his shoulder. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed them yet and he was going to get answers out of her before anyone could interrupt. Because if this was another one of the beta’s stupid pranks— “Erica, I swear to god, I’ll skin your little wolfy ass. Talk, now.”

“Well, see, it all started at the beginning of the summer…”

But suddenly, Erica’s eyes lit up and she trailed off, brushing around him. Protests already rising on his tongue, Stiles spun around after her. Only to freeze.

Derek stood a few feet away, hands behind his back as he glanced between them. Stiles was pretty sure his heart skipped at least two beats.

“Oh, alpha of mine,” Erica said, approaching Derek and giving him a sharp grin. “So good to see you. Also, I’m gonna go now.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and watched her move around him, head tilting slightly. Then he turned to look toward Stiles, who was starting to feel like he could be sick. “Er, yeah. Hey, Derek.”

“Was I interrupting?”

“Absolutely not.”

Stiles probably spoke too quickly because Derek’s eyebrows climbed even higher. Flushing, Stiles dropped his gaze and silently cursed himself.

“I mean… no. You weren't.”

When he finally glanced up again, Derek still didn’t look very convinced. Biting down on his tongue, Stiles searched for any other kind of conversation diversion.

“So. Grilling.”

Derek’s expression turned even more incredulous, though his lips twitched a little. Stiles winced, turned his gaze downward again.

“I saw you and my dad earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah." Derek said thoughtfully. As if that wasn't disturbing news. "He offered me a position at the station two weeks ago. Deputy. I thought it was time I gave him an answer.”

Stiles’s head snapped back up so fast, he swore he heard something crack. “What?”

Derek slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m taking it.”

“You’re— I— what?”

Derek didn't look too bothered by the fact that Stiles was nearly having a heart attack. But Stiles’s head spun and he felt a little bit confused, a little bit shocked, and kind of betrayed all at the same time. Because two weeks ago? That was plenty of time for his dad to at least mention something about possibly hiring Derek Hale.

“Now the house is built, I’m going to need to do something,” Derek said, studying him. “Over the summer and afterward.”

“Why?”

The moment the word left Stiles’s mouth, he felt like an idiot. Because, duh, they were all going to be spread out across the state pretty soon. Except for Lydia, of course, who was going multiple states away. But all this time, Stiles had imagined Derek being lonely and isolated in the Hale house when they were gone…

And just like that, he felt like an even bigger idiot.

Oh.

Looking at Derek with new eyes, Stiles suddenly remembered the past few months a little bit differently.

Derek, working alongside his betas on the new house— all amused looks and soft smiles. Then, that one picture on the wall, right next to the lone chair that soon sat right alongside the rest of the furniture; with enough space for the rest of the pack to be right next to him. And even beyond that, the contented silence when they all went off to do their own thing. Like he knew they were going to be back, no matter what.

A lump formed in Stiles's throat and he stared at the man, feeling like an idiot. “You’re not lonely here."

Derek tilted his head. “No.”

“It’s home.”

Once more, Derek’s lips twitched. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Last weekend…”

“You’re lucky I hadn’t taken the job offer yet.”

Oh.

So, Stiles hadn’t made a fool out of himself that night. But maybe he’d been making a fool out of himself long before then, and ever since. He’d found it so easy to look at Derek Hale and think about all those years ago, like the man was still a part of the past. But maybe Stiles was still the one living back then, not Derek.

“Stiles?”

Glancing across the lawn, Stiles watched the others for a moment. Music floated through the air and he didn’t see a single person other than him and Derek standing apart from the crowd. And they were all different now, weren’t they? It’d been years.

Stiles took a small breath and glanced back toward the man. They were all different now.

“Do you want to dance?”

Derek’s eyes flickered and after a moment, the man nodded. Hands trembling nervously, Stiles followed him away from the edge of the lawn, back toward the others. Gaze drifting a little ways further, Stiles's stomach flipped to see Erica watching with a wide smirk and a wad of cash in hand.

And then, like the entire world thought this was amusing too, the music slowed.

Stiles froze, looking back at Derek. But the man just raised an eyebrow and Stiles thought that maybe he could die on the spot. Because there was nothing even hot about that look. No, Derek Hale was drop-dead gorgeous and Stiles couldn’t believe he was standing literally inches away from the man that he had somehow fallen in love with. And he hadn’t even done anything stupid yet.

Then Derek stepped closer, Stiles’s heart stopped, and he promptly tripped over his own feet, spilling right into the man.

Someone barked a mocking laugh to the side; it sounded suspiciously like Jackson. Wincing, Stiles pulled himself back up and slowly met Derek’s gaze again.

“Sorry.”

“Let me.”

Fingertips brushed against his own and Stiles’s heart hammered against his chest as Derek took his hands. And shit, how many months ago had he been drooling over Derek like a teenager? Grey-green eyes danced in the glowing lights and Stiles remembered Lydia’s words faintly, flushing a little despite himself.

Give Derek something to drool over.

“You know, it's kind of unfair,” Stiles mumbled. “That you’re so freaking hot.”

“Oh, really?”

Stiles chewed on his lower lip, trying to avoid Derek's full-on gaze. “You know. Like, in a ‘I might be kind of in love with the big bad alpha of Beacon Hills’ way.”

Derek suddenly paused and Stiles’s throat tightened.

“Only if that’s okay.”

Beyond them, the music had changed again, turning into something more lively. But Derek still didn’t move and Stiles forced himself to meet the man’s eyes once more, trying to expect literally anything— he didn’t even know what to hope for anymore.

Derek’s brows were furrowed. His expression was a little quiet, a little gentle.

“Derek?”

“It’s about time.”

And Stiles blinked, mouth dropping open. But before he could even say a word, even wrap his mind around what had just been said, Derek was leaning forward and Stiles closed his mouth right back shut as warm lips brushed against his own.

In an instant, some part of his mind screeched. Some part logged off and logged back on again. And one more part replayed that one time he’d run into a wall after Derek had simply growled his name.

Then, Stiles fell right into the kiss and thought what had he even been feeling again?

So much.

But when Derek kissed him for the first time that night, the first time since they'd met, all soft and warm with the Hale house lit up behind them and the smell of barbecue in the air, Stiles realized he only felt one thing right now.

Full.

It kind of felt like the future. Kind of felt like home.

There was another picture hanging on the living room wall after Stiles went off to college, right next to the one of the Hale family. In it, some eyes glowed kind of creepily, some eyes didn't. Some people were holding each other tightly, some weren't. But they were all side by side, and they were all smiling. Older Derek Hale was smiling, just like all those years ago.

Standing next to him, eyes glowing for completely non-werewolf-related reasons, Stiles Stilinski was too.

- -

A/N: so I kind of mixed and matched prompts for this and it ended up being waaay longer than I expected. But I hope it turned out alright? I adore you both @wolfile & @pickosita5stwin !

#sterek #teen wolf #sterek fanfic #teen wolf fanfic #eternalsterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles x derek #ficlet #6k+#stiles stilinski x derek hale #prompts

149 notes · View notes

hwrryscherry · 4 years ago

Text

The one where model Y/N is attacked in Paris.

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N are in Paris for Fashion Week 2020 earlier this year. To celebrate her first time walking for Gucci, Harry decides to take her out for a dinner date when a crazy youtube prankster attacks her while leaving the restaurant and Harry get furious as standing up to defend his girl.

word count: 3.5K

warning: rude and disrespectful attitude, invasion of personal space, violence, anxiety attack quote. DON’T read it if you feel uncomfortable.

author’s note: HIII, I know this took me a while. I was working on it when I got a cold and just couldn’t think of anything to finish writing this, but I’m much better now for god’s sake. I’d like to apologize with whoever requested this for taking such a long time to post it and say a huge thank you or requesting this too! This is completely inspired by what happened to Gigi Hadid in 2016(I guess) and I remember seeing this video and thinking why someone would do that, also, Gigi said once that the guy was lucky Zayn wasn’t with her sooooo I guess I just think Harry would be so furious because even though he’s a very chill guy, his girl safety and well being is the one thing that matters the most to him.

gigi’s video for the ones who didn’t see it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjsPmjqmcvs

February 27th, 2020

Today was the first time that you ever walked for Gucci, and it was amazing, you were beyond happy because getting where you are today being a short model and only being 22 years old it's something to be proud of. It hasn't been easy all the time but you were slowly making your way to the top and that's more than enough. And you were highly grateful for Harry either, of course you walked Gucci's show because of your talent and hard working and no one doubted that, but Harry did a important role in your newest contract with Gucci because you met the team because of him and his Gucci obsession. But anyway, the fashion show was amazing, and you had Harry on the crowd cheering for you all the time and God, he was so proud! He couldn’t even handle himself. He was recording everything and even got up when you did the catwalk next to him as he kept taking multiple pictures. If you have to be real, almost 90% of those pictures looked really bad because he wasn't focusing on the phone but he also wanted to register this moment and when you'd look through them later you'd actually laugh because most of them had a very blur image.

When the fashion show ended, he had to congratulate you backstage. As you were starting to take off your outfit, you listened to your boyfriend's rough voice making you turn around to face him and see the biggest smile on his face, you could clearly see his dimples on the side of his cheek. He walked over to you instantly wrapping his strong arms around your figure hugging you so tight that you were even afraid that he would get the feat of ruining the rest of clothes you still had on.

— You were so great, I'm so pround of you! — Harry said on a low tone next to your ear before breaking the hug and looking carefully to your face. You had this crazy green eyeshadow that were halfway gone by now which caused him to chuckle — I love your eye look, it looks fabulous! — Harry said making you bend over to stare at the mirror behind you only realizing now you haven't finished taking off your makeup yet. You stand straight again giving him a mocking expression as you grabbed the makeup wipe you were using from the makeup table behind both of you.

— I know, I'm thinking about wearing this everywhere because it's just really fashion! — you ironically said taking a smirk out of him as you turned around sitting on the chair in front of the mirror so you could have a sight of how you're makeup were doing — But thank you, you know I appreciate it!

— I do! And that's why I'll congratulate you by taking you out for dinner tonight! — Harry said walking towards you resting his hands on both of your shoulders squeezing them gently as he bends over giving you a small kiss on your neck.

— Oh, like a dinner date? — You'd ask with a smirk on as you felt goosebumps on your kiss with his little kiss.

— Exactly like a dinner date! And later, we can have our own private celebration! — He'd say with a smirk on his lips as you finished taking your makeup off — What d' you think? Sounds good? — He asked you and you nodded at him and just some minutes later you both were out stage going back to your hotel in Paris. Harry called Jeff and asked him if he could make a reservation for both of you for tonight around 8 pm and he glady did, so as it was already 6 pm and as you both were probably the one couple in the world who takes the longest to get ready, you'd come back to the hotel and started getting ready already.

Jeff made an appointment for both of you to go to Le Cinq restaurant which is located near the Eiffel Tower and Arc of Triumph. You absolutely loved Paris at night, for some reason it seemed more magical and interesting to you. The weather, the lights, the fashion and the language that you learned to master well through the years warmed your heart whenever you’d go there. When you were a child, you got used to always hearing your mom tells you:’’whenever you’re in love, go to Paris’’, and for this reason Paris was one of the first places where you and Harry traveled together as couple. Harry didn’t use to travel a lot for by the way. MOst of the time, he used to travel for work, so this changed a lot since you started dating because you love to travel. You’ve always been a free spirit person, the kind of person that goes wherever the winds takes you so with the time Harry became like this too as you started taking him to do the craziest things on the craziest places around the world.

You felt the car slower it’s velocity as it got closer to the front of the restaurant, and you both could see by the window that the front was packed. As it was Paris Fashion Week, there were a lot of celebrities in the city and usually, fans settled in front of popular places around the city hoping they’d have a chance to meet their favorite celebs and even though you were already used to crowds at this point of your life, they’d still make you a little nervous, especially when it was in places not well known to you like a city you don’t live on.

— You’ll have to guide me because these shoes are really high and I don't want to step on anyone's feet — You said to Harry while putting your phone in the small black Prada bag you carried with you with your head down looking carefully to it because you’ve lost the count of how many times you thought you had put the phone inside your bag and you didn’t.

— It's alright! Hold my hand because there are a lot of people here! — Said Harry bringing his left hand up to your face to put a lock of hair of yours that fell in your face behind your ear and you nodded to him. Harry was really protective over you, and he has been that way since the beginning of your relationship. He’d always put your safety first anytime you’d go out together. When it was his about his concerts, you’d usually discuss about the fact that you want to be in the audience and he wants you to be backstage. It’d taken you a few minutes to convince him that everything was going to be fine, but it would also have days that it didn’t matter how much time you try to convince him he’d beg you to stay backstage so he could be relaxed during the performance. But you were grateful for him being that way, you were grateful that he cared so much about your well being because you know exactly how much some relationships can be destructive and you felt lucky to have someone this good in your life. Of course he wasn’t perfect, neither of you were but who is? He tried his best and that’s what matters the most.

But anyway, Harry held your hand tightly and opened the car door, immediately feeling the camera’s flashes burning your faces and listening to some fans starting to shout. Harry’s bodyguards got between both of you and the crowd guiding your way to the entrance of the restaurant and you felt the heat from the crowd instantly even though the weather in Paris was only 59°F, it’d feel lot warmer until you entered the place. And that is one special kind of a place, The decoration was perfectly splendid, gorgeous and marvelous if you must say. The touches of gold and light blue mixed with the yellow coloration of lights and the spectacular french food scent brought a cozy and elegant vibe.The restaurant was a little full, nothing out of the common and you observed the many different sizes of tables and the groups of people in it.

You both were taken to your table that was located next to the windows but wasn’t actually on the windows at it still had people outside and it feels weird to eat with people watching you. Anyway, Harry as the gentleman he is pulled the chair for you as he always did even though you had told him there’s no need for that. You both ordered glasses of your favorite white wine, neither of you were heavy drinkers but as it was a celebration it was much needed. The date happened naturally, just as all the laughing, talking and even gossips. This the casual couple gossip that you two would have, but it happened naturally. None of you ever felt like you had to pretend to be anybody else except yourself around each other.

During the night, Harry would get lost in your face admiring your features while you’re talking. He would admire the way your eyebrows move when you’d change expressions, the way your eyes would form a very tiny line when you tried to see something that was away from you, he’d admire your smile and the sound of your laugh anytime you’d remember of something funny or he’d tell you something funny and he’d think of how lucky he is to have you, because even though he knows that sometimes he can be a pain in the ass(just as you can too) , you’re very lucky to have one another and to have someone who would make you feel this great and free about who you are. Because who you are is exactly who you need to be. Of course both of you believes that changing and envolving it’s the most important thing to do and sometimes you’d be surprised to see how much you both grew from the beginning of your relationship until today and that would bring smile to your faces. He feels lucky to be able to call you his girl, and god you loved when he’d do it. You loved when he was about to present you to someone and say ‘’This is my girl Y/N’’, it’d cause you to open a big smile because it felt natural. You’re his and he’s yours, period.

When you both decided it was time to call it a night Harry paid the check against what you wanted because you wanted to pay this time. You’d honestly hate to have people paying for you, and this would usually be a point of discussion between you and Harry. You don't know why but you hate it, and it's just the gentleman in Harry wanting to spoil his girl again and again until he get tired of doing it, but he never does.

You were about to leave the restaurant when Harry slid his right hand around your waist bringing you closer to him very calmly to kiss your cheek.

— I know you want to say hi to everyone but just walk to the car, alright? — He'd lowly talk next to your ear making you look at him with a serious expression — It's for your safety, love! It's late now, and we don't know who's there. — And he was right, it was past midnight now and there were still some people out there. How can they stand there in this cold weather? But anyway, you agreed with him as you both walked your way to outside. You felt flashes again, blinding flashing lights making you look to the ground as Harry held his hand on the back of your back guiding you to the car.

As you walked towards the car, you felt a small hand touch your arm and you looked over to see a little girl with probably 12 or 13 years. She pursued tired eyes, and your heart ached with just the thought of keeping walking back to the car because you had no idea of how much time she’s been outside waiting for you so you stopped walking and bend down a little to get close to her height which made Harry stops walking immediately looking a little surprised but he understood when he saw you taking a picture with the little girl and how your face lightens up after it. You asked her what was her name and her age and she answered that her name was Lily and she was 13 she told you that she wants to be a model just like you when she grows older and that melted your heart. You smiled at her and told her that she could do whatever she wanted to and told her that when she grows up and becomes a model, you’d love to walk a show with her. When you’d stand up again you saw Harry looking at you with a small smile on his lips. He couldn’t deny he loves your kindness to every person in the world. It made his heart happy to know that he’s with someone with the same life philosophy than him. So he turned around to open the car door for you when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist lifting you up and you froze.

— What the fu... — You'd shout before starting to hit him on his arms with your elbows as you'd move your legs trying to kick him with your heels. You'd feel flashes on your face and heat on your body increasing. It was the adrenaline and you were furious at this point. — Get...Off...Me — You'd shout as you'd hit his face with your elbows as well, Harry looked over to you and stormed out. He'd swear he'd never been like this in his life, he'd basically run to behind the guy's back and put his arm around his neck, Harry'd give him a punch right in the middle of his back and a slightly kick on the back of his knee to destabilise the guy which put you free by the moment he started to fall. Harry's bodyguard would hold you immediately trying to push you away from the crowd as you looked at Harry pushing the guy away from you.

— What the fuck were you doing? — Harry'd shout right into the man's face and watch as the man started to walk away from the crowd but Harry would go after him. Harry swears to god he couldn't even feel his body at the time. He was completely numb, moved by adrenaline and all he wanted to do was to beat the shit out of that man. — WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? — Harry'd shout walking after him getting no response which just made him angrier. At that time he didn't care about the cameras or whoever was watching him, he couldn't calm down when someone threated his girl safety and personal space. It didn't even need to be you. If he saw anyone threatening a woman's safety, he'd freak out in anger.

You felt the bodyguards strong hands trying to push you away from the situation because that's what Harry would want him to do. He tried walking you towards the car, but you were reluctantly screaming for Harry because he could get himself hurt if he didn't come back to the car now. The other bodyguard walked after Harry grabbing him by the arm and Harry turned over to look at him with so much anger on his look and you'd swear you never saw him like this but then he did started walking over to you again.

You finally entered the car and closed the door. You felt in panic. Basically paralyzed, you felt your anxiety attacking and your hands shaking. You could literally hear your heart beating so fast and loud that it scares you.

— Go get him! Follow him to hell. I don't care! Take him to the police office! — You'd listen to Harry talks firmly to his bodyguards as he opened the car's door and entered in it. He took a deep breath and turned his face to look at you. His heart broke at that moment. You were a mess. You couldn't even feel the tears leaving your eyes, but he did see them. He saw your hands shaking and how scared your eyes looked and at that moment all of his anger left his body — Love... — He'd sigh getting closer to you while wrapping his arms around your now-fragile figure. He could feel your entire body shaking on his arms. He caressed your hair with one of his hands as he hugged you tight to calm you down. He'd look to the driver and make a sign for him to start driving back to your hotel — Are ya okay? You're hurt? Did he hurt you? — He'd talk on a calm tone squeezing you a little on his arms. You'd lift your head up to look at him with red wet eyes shaking your head to him.

— I'm sorry! — You'd say lowly. He did tell you to walk straight to the car, and you didn't listen to him.

— It's not your fault, love! — He'd say wiping some of your tears and then carefully kissing both of cheeks — Don't worry about it, everything's gonna be fine, alright? It's okay!

You'd spent the rest of the ride in silence. A comfortable silence. You'd be laying your head on his shoulder while holding his head getting your breathing and heart back to normal and your phones would start buzzing with notifications of what happened but none of you would see it, not now.

When you got to your hotel, you'd get out of the car in the garage. You'd both walk slowly to the elevator and slowing to your room. You entered the room going directly to the king sized bed and throwing yourself in it because you felt like getting in a coma and just waking up to a time where all this drama would go away. Harry'd walk towards you and sit in bed beside you. He'd put both of his hands on your shoulders massaging them slowly.

— I'll prepare you a bath, so you can relax a little before sleeping, how's that sound? — He'd say trying to cheer you up a little bit.

— Sounds great, thank you love! — You'd turn your head to look at him with a forced smile on your lips. Harry'd bend down to kiss your hair line before leaving to the bathroom.

He'd try his best to make you feel the most comfortable to sleep tonight. He'd prepare you a bath. He'd give you a message, he'd brush your hair for you but actually, he loves to do that. He loves to brush your hair before you go to bed, it was more like a routine for you both. He loves to feel your long locks on his fingers and to feel the sweet scent of it. He'd cuddle you until you fall asleep too, he'd even be the big spoon tonight so you could sleep on his chest breathing his perfume because he hoped that'd make you have a good night of sleep.

And after you did, he'd look on the things on his phone. All the posts about you being attacked in Paris and him beating the guy who did it were just too much and he felt sorry that you'd have to see and read all of those stuff as soon as you unblock your phone. A lot of your friends texted him asking what happened and if you were ok. He'd answer the closest ones only, like his mom and Gemma, your mom, Bella and Jeff. He didn't know what you'll decide about the next fashion shows you had to walk, but he also knows that no one would blame you if you just chose to come back home in NYC.

Harry didn't sleep at that night at all, he couldn't stop looking for what happened and why it happened. The next day, it was everywhere in the media and later you'd found out that the guy was a youtuber and he was making a prank when he posted his stupid youtube vlog with "I pranked Harry Styles's girlfriend and he punched me" as a title. You'd sue him for sure. You don't like taking those kind of actions, but it was necessary, he had to understand that you cannot disrespect people like this, specially people you don't know.

After that you'd probably understand why Harry is so protective over you and Harry would actually get ten times more protective, if I had to be honest. But as the time passed by and quarantine came you both would leave it behind and move on with your life because in the end of the day you both will still have one another.

#harry styles and y/n #harry and y/n #hwrryscherry #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry x reader #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

487 notes · View notes

hansols-yoda-boxers · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Decisions (Just You)

Seungcheol x Female Reader

Word Count: 5436

Contents: reader is a bratty sub but cheol is fucking whipped, oral (male receiving) while sleeping, manhandling, slight body praise, choking, pet name (babygirl), sir kink, dom svt, hair pulling, face fucking, drooling, fingering, marking, living room sex, wall, sex, bed sex (all unprotected), multiple creampies, very slight breeding kink

Note: So as if this is some pop song I’ve given it two titles cuz I couldn’t decide. Anyways okay this is so late and I am so sorry for that but a very happy belated birthday to @bootyful-seventeen !!!! You are so much fun to talk to and I know I can go to you with that weird shit and you’ll roll with it. You write fun stuff and I really love that you don’t take it too seriously, the lighthearted stories are wonderful and your soft dad!svt stuff makes my heart melt. You are genuinely such enjoyable company and I hope you know that I really love our friendship and I’m really happy to know you.

Truly, the day had been a veritable orgy of dumb decisions.

You shouldn’t have gotten so worked up when you woke up, cuddling with your boyfriend and feeling something hard pressing into your lower stomach. You shouldn’t have looked at the clock to see that Seungcheol’s alarm would go off in approximately six minutes. You shouldn’t have shimmed below the covers and found a cozy spot between his legs.

You definitely shouldn’t have pulled down his sweats and started sucking him off to wake him up.

And yet you did, despite truly, honestly, definitely knowing better you couldn’t help yourself and you did it anyway because life really is too short to deny yourself the pleasure that is your boyfriend’s cock, even if you didn’t think through the timing at all.

And so you felt a hand in your hair as you moved your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. And you heard his low, gravely, early morning groans, the first sound out of his mouth that sent arousal careening through your body and had you pressing your thighs together. You sunk into the bliss, letting your hand slip between your legs to tease yourself, mind clouded with the enticing idea of morning sex, knowing it would set your day up just right.

Until Seungcheol’s alarm started blaring in your ears and he let out a much more annoyed groan. His hand pulled off the blankets easily and you gave him the sweetest look you could, still whining as he pulled you back off of his cock and rolled out of bed.

“Aw, come on we ca-”

“No,” he warned. “You know I don’t have time.” He eyed you, regarding you suspiciously as he pulled his sweats back up. “Now I have to shower and get ready and deal with this,” he motioned to the now very obvious boner in his sweats, “before I leave.”

“You had that before I started,” you whined. “And you know I could help y-” Your words fell off as he leaned closer to you suddenly, grabbing your jaw firmly with a slow burning intensity in his gaze.

“If I let you help me, I’ll be late. So now thanks to you, I won’t be able to get the thought of fucking your mouth out of my head. You’ve already managed to ruin me for the whole day.” You tried to bite back the grin tugging at your lips but you couldn’t and Seungcheol’s grip tightened. “Don’t get smug, babygirl.”

You didn’t wipe the look from your face, watching him as he let go of you and headed for the bathroom. “What are you gonna do about it?” You giggled. Seungcheol threw you a look over his shoulder as he left the room.

Unsurprisingly, the bad decisions did not end there.

You had things to do, it wasn’t like your day was empty but you did have some free time, and most of what you needed to do was from home today. And on any other day that wouldn’t mean much more than that you would start dinner since it was easier for you to get something ready.

Today, however, it meant you were going to tease him.

Once he was on his way you got yourself out of bed, taking you time washing up and picking pretty lingerie. You grabbed a pair of leggings and searched through his closet to find one of his shirts and felt only the slightest bit unhinged at how you couldn’t stop smiling and chuckling to yourself over your plan to mess with him all day.

And mess with him you did. The morning started off with innocent selfies when you had spare moments. The first few he reacted to sweetly but as you sent further back and then mirror selfies he got frustrated. It was far too easy to wind him up and so much fun teasing him about what was hidden under his big, comfy shirt.

The more frustrated his messages became the more it egged you on. The more it made you wanna act like a brat. In between his warnings not to distract him while he was working (and your instances that he didn’t have to open the pictures in the middle of his work day) you could sense his desperation. You knew that with every minute that passed he wanted you more and more and that feeling was just far too fun and far too powerful.

That’s what you told yourself as you had slipped your leggings off that afternoon and started teasing yourself over your panties, why you pulled your shirt up and caught it between your teeth, letting out muffled little moans and whines as your fingers worked and your hips rolled and bucked and followed the sensations.

As you started recording the video you were much more ready to say you were just messing with him further and not that all of your shenanigans had backfired only slightly and had you far too needy when he wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. You had to hope that when he got home he’d be too needy and wouldn’t try to punish you by taking away sex.

Then again, any time he’d tried that he gave in after a day or two. He really couldn’t resist you.

“When are you coming home?” you whined through the fabric between your teeth. “Please, I need you so badly.” Admittedly, you were hyping it up a little more for the camera just to get to him but the thought of how he would be when he got home was all the incentive you needed.

“Please, please fuck-” You ended the video. You knew very well you were going to be in trouble for sending him a video and then not letting him see you cum, but today was a day for bad decisions and you were rolling with it now. A long moan left your lips and your back arched as you came, legs trembling and core squeezing around your measly fingers, reminding you of what you really wanted inside of you.

You felt a little dazed as you sent the video, though not nearly as fucked out as you wanted to feel. Either way you let yourself flop back on the bed, comfy and considering a nap while you waited for Seungcheol to come home. You could go start dinner though, not that you felt you would be eating when he walked in the door. Your sleepy mind thought about what you might make and if you needed to prepare anything ahead of time until your phone buzzed.

[You’re in so much trouble, babygirl]

You snickered as you read the message.

[Well you’re not here, looks like I can do what I want]

[Not for long]

[You’re such a little brat today, babygirl]

[Better hurry up and get home before I wear myself out] You couldn’t keep in your chuckles as you put down your phone, heading to the bathroom to freshen up just a bit. You could figure out food later but at the moment what you really wanted was to think about your boyfriend getting home. You took as much time as you could washing up, picking out his favourite perfume for you and fixing your lingerie and hair. You took the opportunity to turn on a sex playlist, hoping that you hadn’t added anything that would wreck the mood too much. You were preoccupied enough that you missed the soft click of the front door.

“You wanted to test me today.”

You spun around and gazed down the hall to where Seungcheol had just come through the door and was taking off his shoes. His gaze was dark and intense and it filled you with arousal as much as it did glee. As soon as they were off he was making his way towards you as you stepped out into the hallway. You bit down on your lip, trying not to smile too widely as he grabbed you by the waist and pushed you back until you hit the wall with a gasp that was quickly swallowed by his lips.

He kissed you with all the pent up passion and tension from a day of teasing, hand coming up to your throat as he pressed you into the wall with his body. You easily let his tongue past your lips, whining unabashedly against him as his free hand grabbed at your hip and he pressed one of his thighs between your legs.

Your hands couldn’t help themselves, pulling him closer by his hair at first, but it wasn’t long before they wandered. They seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved down his shoulders and you felt up his arms, feeling him smile into the messy kisses and urging your hips to move, grinding on his thigh subtly. Your hands moved further, slipping down his back before grabbing at his ass and drawing a light groan from him before he pulled away from the kiss, lips moving to your ear as the hand around your throat tightened.

“Do you know how much grief you caused me today?” He growled. “Do you know how much trouble you’re in babygirl?”

“Not enough,” you hummed, solely to get his hand just a little tighter and have him push you down on his thigh a little more roughly. He pressed his hips into you, rutting against you and you felt even more heat pooling between your legs, your mouth watering at the feeling of his hard length pressing into you from the movement.

“Do you feel that, babygirl?” His voice was rough and you could hear his own desperation just under the surface. “Do you feel what you do to me? Do you know how hard it was to get through the day with you acting up like that? Spending me pictures of your pretty body? Sending video?”

“H-H-” you tried to speak but the way he pressed his thigh up between your legs and rolled his hips against you drew a desperate moan from your lips instead, your hands grabbing at him and trying to pull him closer. Your legs trembled slightly as you ground your core down against his thigh, feeling the dull sparks igniting inside you and wanting more.

“You’re such a brat today,” he growled, easily adding to the arousal pooling between your legs and drawing a whimper from your lips. Your mind was quickly closing on in your goal, fueled by your need and wanting almost nothing more than for him to fuck, you brain searching for any words that would have that happening faster.

“Y-You-” You forced your words out despite your whines and hazy mind. “You sh-should punish me, sir.”

A gasp left your lungs as he pulled his thigh out from between your legs. His hand moved from your throat to your shoulder and he pushed you down roughly to your knees, his hand tangling into your hair easily. You gazed up at him with a pout and he smirked down at you as his other hand undid his belt.

“I know what you want, babygirl,” he murmured, unzipping his pants. “I know that you want me to fuck you against every piece of furniture in this apartment.”

“Please,” you whined, whimpering louder when he tugged roughly on your hair.

“You’ve been a brat. Getting off without me is one thing, but using it to taunt me while I can’t do anything? And now you think you deserve to get off again? To get just what you want?” He chuckled, shaking his head before giving you an intense gaze. “Open your mouth, babygirl.”

You kept your eyes on him, letting out a whine but doing as he said as he pushed his boxers down. You itched to look at his cock, hard in his hand as he pumped it slowly and groaned. You squirmed, letting your tongue hang out as you gave him a sweet look. Seungcheol brought his cock to your lips and you leaned forwards, earning another chuckle from his lips.

“Pretending to be eager now? Do you think that’s going to make it up to me, babygirl?”

“No, sir,” you mumbled as sweetly as you could. “I j-” you gasped again as he tugged at your hair roughly. Before any more words could make it out of your mouth he thrust his cock between your lips, letting out a groan.

“You’re too mouthy today, babygirl,” he groaned. “Let me use that pretty mouth for something more productive.”

Seungcheol held your head still as he started to fuck into your mouth. Groans fell off his lips as and his gaze grew darker and darker as his hips moved steadily into your mouth. Your hands dug into the skin of your thighs, breathing through your nose and trying not to touch yourself the way you desperately wanted to.

“God, your mouth feels so good,” he groaned. “Maybe I’ll just fuck your mouth all night, babygirl. You’ve been so bratty maybe I won’t even fuck you. I shouldn’t, you don’t deserve it.”

You let out a desperate moan around his cock. He was only saying that to get to you, he wanted it as badly as you did. But now, with his cock in your mouth and your thighs pressing together and getting no relief the only thought on your mind was to get more. You did your best to relax your throat, trying to lean forwards and take more of his cock.

Seungcheol cursed under his breath, his grip in your hair tightening as his cock breached your throat. You gagged around his length, drool dripping out from the covers of your mouth before he pulled his cock back to let you breathe.

“If you want me to fuck you properly,” his voice was growing rougher as his hips picked up their pace, fucking into your mouth faster. “Then you shouldn’t make your mouth any more enticing, babygirl.”

You moaned around him in response, keeping your gaze on him as best you could as his cock thrust into your throat again, a deeper growl leaving his lips at the feeling as you moaned around him and felt more drool coming from your mouth, getting more and more messy by the second as he started to chase his high.

“Fuck, you feel so good, babygirl,” he growled. “Your pretty mouth f-feels so good.” His hips started to snap into your mouth more quickly and you kept your jaw and throat as relaxed as you could, moaning around his cock and trying to grind or roll your hips on nothing, needing some relief desperately.

Seungcheol, let out a rough growl as he pushed into your throat and came, holding your head down on his cock as he released. His cum ran down your throat and pooled into your mouth. You gasped to catch your breath when he slowly pulled his cock away and tilted your head back, looking down at you hazily.

“God you look pretty like that, babygirl,” he groaned.

Your voice was breathy and had a desperation you could no longer hide. “I’d look better bent over the couch, right sir?”

He bit down on his lip to hold in the near growl that came from his chest but there was nothing hesitant about the way he pulled you to your feet roughly by your hair. Was your mind not already on the goal of being fucked you would be downright giddy at the way he handled you so roughly. His hands grabbed at you as you made it to your feet and he pushed you to the couch, bending you over it easily.

You bit down on your lip, gasping as he pulled at your panties, tearing them off and spreading your legs. One of his hands tangled into your now messy hair while the other dragged through your folds. You pressed your hips back into his hand and heard him chuckling, though his voice was much breathier.

“You’re just so enticing, babygirl,” he groaned, easily pushing two fingers into you as he leaned over you back. “God, even when I want to punish you I just can’t help myself. I shouldn’t be fucking you when you’ve been so bratty, but I really can’t resist your pretty pussy.” You let out small moans as you ground your hips back and he curled and thrust his fingers at a steady pace. “The way you get so desperate for me, the way you’re moaning for me,” he pressed his lips to your back, between your shoulder blades. “I know you know what you do to me.”

You lost yourself in the feeling, shamelessly rolling and grinding your hips back as much as he’d allow. His fingers moved more and more quickly, feverishly, into your cunt. His lips found the back of your neck and sucked marks into your skin, drawing shivers down your spine and moans from your lips at the feeling.

Your toes curled as he pressed a third finger inside easily. Your head fell forward as you pressed your hips back even more and moaned out for him, fingers grabbing at the fabric of the couch to steady yourself as the intense feeling in your core built stronger and stronger.

“God you’re so cute when you’re needy. You got yourself all worked today too, didn’t you babygirl?” You moaned, nodding your head and feeling your legs tremble as you clenched around his fingers at his words. Your hips kept moving, getting so close to your high as the coil in your core curled tightly.

Curses feel off your lips as Seungcheol nipped at your ear. “I really shouldn’t give you what you want,” his voice was rough as he pressed his hips against you, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Please,” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for as your mind spun. Did you want to cum right now or did you want his cock first? Both ideas sounded heavenly to your very clouded, very aroused, extremely needy brain. “Please, sir, please.”

You bit down on your lip to hold in your whine as he pulled his fingers from your core. A hand found your hair and you let out a gasp as he pulled you up roughly, bringing his wet fingers to your lips.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You let your lips fall open easily, eyes fluttering closed as you tasted yourself on his fingers, suck them clean messily. Your tongue ran over his digits as he let go of your hair, dropping his hand between your legs and nearly making your knees buckle as he suddenly started rubbing fast, rough circles into your clit.

You cursed around his fingers, legs shaking as you leaned your thighs against the back of the couch, trying to stay on your feet as the pleasure coursed through you. The coil in your core curled tighter and your moans climbed higher in your voice. Seungcheol’s lips sucked roughly at the side of your neck as he rutted against your ass and low growls rumbled from his chest.

He waited until you were right on your edge to pull his hand away. A whine welled up in your throat but it didn’t make it out as his hand found the middle of your back and pushed you forward, bending you over the couch again. He pulled your thighs a little wider and you felt your eyes roll back and flutter closed as you sunk his cock into your cunt.

“H-H-” No words made it off your lips as he grabbed your hips roughly and thrust into you. Moans fell off instead, one after another as every movement of his hips sent pleasure coursing through you, your legs trembling as you teetered on your edge. His thrusts were edging on rough and quick but deep enough that they made you dizzy, his low groans and growls only adding to the arousal curling tightly in your body.

“G-God you feel so f-fucking good, babygirl,” Seungcheol’s fingers dug even more deeply into your hips. The uneven roughness in his voice only serving to turn you on that much more. “God I r-really can’t resist you. Your pretty, tight pussy. F-Fuck the way you moan for me.”

Your voice was a mix of curses and moans and whines of “please, sir, don’t stop, sir.” Your hands scrambled for purchase in the fabric of the couch, on the edges of pillows as his cock sunk into your heat over and over and you started to clench around him. The sound of his hips hitting your ass mixed with the moans and groans falling from both of you as your toes tried to curl.

“Please, s-sir, I- fuck- I’m-” The words could barely make it off your tongue.

“Cum for me babygirl, cum on my cock.”

You cried out, body shaking as you came hard. Pleasure washed over your body in tidal waves, reaching to the tips of your fingers and toes as you moaned for him. What little strength your arms had gave out and you fully fell into the couch below.

Seungcheol’s hips kept moving, fucking you through your orgasm and into sensitivity. Your legs didn’t stop trembling and your moans died to whimpers as his hips kept moving. Your face pressed into the cushion below and your arms were shaky as he let out breathy groans and growls and a few curses at the feeling. Pleasure started to build inside you again, much more easily but he didn’t bring you to your edge again, pulling out quickly.

His hand grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet and he spun you to face him. His hands found your hips and you gazed up at him, desperate and nearly drooling as he smirked at you, sweat on his brow making his hair stick to his forehead as his chest heaved and he pulled you across the room.

You gasped as he pushed you into the wall, the hot skin of your back hitting the cool drywall as his lips found yours feverishly. The way he kissed you nearly made your legs give out all on it’s own and your hands scrambled to wrap around his neck until he tugged at his shirt, pulling it off of you and ridding you of your bra as well. He made quick work of his own shirt before grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the wall above your head. Your legs trembled as he lifted one and wrapped it around his waist as he ground his cock through your folds.

“Are you too tired, babygirl?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice.

“No, sir,” you whined breathlessly, giving him a sweet look and struggling to keep your eyes open as he pushed into you again, the new angle drawing a high pitched moan from your lips. He ground his hips into you, smirking as your head fell back to the wall and you tried to ground your hips down for more.

“Still needy?” He cooed.

“Please,” you let the words fall off your lips, any sense of shame long gone. “Please keep fucking me. Please I need your cock, I need your cum, I-” your words turned to moans as he thrust up into you roughly before settling on quick, shallow, movements making you tremble easily from the first thrust.

He moved his lips to your ear, voice rough and verging on a growl. “You need my cum, babygirl? Do you want me to cum deep inside you?”

“Please,” your voice was breathy and high as you curled your fingers in towards your palms and squeezed your leg around Seungcheol’s hip. You pulled weakly at his wrists but he easily held them still, hips snapping into you as low groans fell off his lips until his met yours in messy, desperate kisses.

Your legs trembled, the wall and Seungcheol’s body weight holding you up as a coil started to curl tightly in your sensitive core again. You could barely focus on the kisses, leaving messy moans against his lips as his thrusts grew a little rougher and uneven.

Seungcheol let out a moan against your lips as he released deep inside you. He ground his cock slowly into your cunt and you let out a broken whimper at the feeling of his cum filling you even more, flexing and curling your fingers out as your hips followed his movements greedily, still wanting more.

Seungcheol pulled you leg away from his hip and let go of your hands and you braced yourself against the wall. He let your leg down but was quick to push your thighs apart, dropping down and shooting you a warning look to keep your legs apart for him. You bit down on your lip as he drew his fingers up your inner thigh.

He let out a groan as you felt his cum starting to drip out of you. Your legs were shaky and weak but you did your best to hold yourself up as he brought his fingers to drag through your folds, gathering his cum before fucking it back into your sensitive core. Small whimpers slipped out and you struggled to stay on your feet as his fingers fucked you slowly, your core clenching around them, having a mind of its own.

Seungcheol chuckled as he pulled his hands away and stood in front of you. His clean hand came up around your neck, pressing down every slightly while he pressed his fingers to your lips and you took them into your mouth just the way he wanted. You gazed with heavily lidded eyes into his intense ones, subtly biting the inside of his lip as he watched you suck on his fingers.

“Do you need a little more, babygirl?” His voice was quieter but still had a roughness to it and made you needy cunt clench again as his cum dripped down your thighs. You nodded lazily, giving him a sweet expression and reaching for him to pull him closer to you.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, pressing into your body with his and kissing you roughly, squeezing your throat just a little more. You kissed him greedily, his own kisses following suit. You grabbed at him weakly and moaned against his lips as he ground his cock against you. Even though your body was tired, your legs felt like they might give out if you stood on them for much longer, you couldn’t help yourself. You were all wrapped up in him and you wanted every little bit he could give you.

Seungcheol’s hands grabbed your waist and you gasped as he pulled you away from the wall and properly into the bedroom. His movements were even more forceful as he pushed you down onto the bed and you couldn't help the lazy smile that tugged at you lips as you gazed up at him, squealing as he pulled your hips roughly to the edge of the bed and lifted your legs, throwing them over his shoulders.

He leaned over you, grinding his cock through your folds and drawing a moan from your lips as his cock rubbed over your clit. “You can’t get enough of me, can you babygirl?” He teased.

“No sir,” your voice came out breathy as you gazed up at him, wanting nothing more than for him to sink his cock back into your core. “Please.”

His hand found your throat again, pressing down lightly. “I give into you too easily,” he said, gazing at you heatedly. “You’re lucky you’re so addicting babygirl. So lucky I’ll never get enough of you.” Both of you let out moans as he pushed into you, your legs trembling from the feeling alone.

“You’re so lucky I need you so badly,” he groaned as he pulled back and thrust into you roughly. “And that having you like this is one of my favourite things, o-otherwise you’d be in so much trouble for being such a needy brat all day.” His voice wavered just a bit as he gave you strong, deep thrusts between pulling out slowly, each one making you cry out in pleasure and struggle to keep looking at you.

“Fuck, watching your tits bounce every time,” his grip on your hips got tighter and his thrusts faster, picking up a steady pace even tough they stayed just as rough. “Feeling your legs shaking in my hands. The way you c-clench around me.” You took in his rough, low voice as he spoke, building back up to his next orgasm.

Your own release built too, the coil in your core curling tighter and tighter with every movement. Your fingers sunk into the soft sheets and gripped them as your head spun and moans poured off your lips. Your mind could barely find the words and make up sentences anymore, so wrapped up in the pleasure he was giving you as his hips snapped into you.

“C-Cu- F-F-F- C-” The words were so hard to get out of your foggy brain but you heard Seungcheol’s breathy chuckle.

“Are you going to cum again, babygirl?”

You let out a whine, trying to find the words in your muddy, hormone addled brain. “Y-Y- Yo- c-c-c-”

Seungcheol leaned over you, his hips driving into you much faster and only his hands on your hips keeping you from being pushed up the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Do you want more of my cum, babygirl?”

“P-Pl-” you managed to nod between moans and struggling with words.

“I’ll give you j-just that, babygirl.” he growled. “You t-take my cum so well how could I resist f-filling you until you can’t take anymore. I know how b-badly you want it. G-God I could fuck you senseless like this every day, f-fucking you full of my cum until you’re carrying my child. Is that what you want, babygirl?”

You cried out, back arching off the bed as you came hard. Your eyes squeezed shut and stars burst behind your eyelids as your body shook. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, reaching every bit of your body as Seungcheol’s cock kept pounding into you.

Curses fell off his lips as your body kept shaking and whimpers started to fall off your lips. Your whole body felt sensitive and your sounds were high in your voice as your mouth hung open, gaze hazy and eyes barely open and he chased his high, fucking you hard until his hips started to stutter.

He released deep inside you with a loud, low, rough groans. You tried to catch your breath as you felt his cum filling you more and more in thick ropes, his grip on your hips holding you in place as he ground slightly into your heat.

As he started to catch his breath he pulled out of your slowly, wrapping a hand around his cock and watching as his cum started to leak out of your cunt. You felt him bring his cock back to your core and let out a whine, squirming under him as he pushed his cock back in slowly with a breathy groan.

“Fuck you just feel so good,” he said. “I can’t help myself.” He pulled back and let more cum drip out before pushing it back in slowly again. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering and pressing the side of your face into the bed and he pulled out, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before letting your legs down.

Despite how tired he’d gotten he went to get a washcloth. You listened to his footstep leave and come back moments later, whimpering as he brought the warm cloth between your legs. He hushed you gently, rubbing your hip soothingly as he cleaned you up, taking another cloth to wipe the sweat off your brow and you smiled slightly at how refreshed it made you feel.

As he climbed into bed with you you looked at him blearily and he gave you a soft smile. He helped you move up the bed and pulled you to lay on his chest, rubbing your back gently and pressing kisses to your forehead.

“Do you need anything to eat?” He hummed.

You shook your head, nuzzling into his chest.

“Anything to drink? Or do you want a bath?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just you. I just want you.”

“Perfect,” he said softly. “Because I just want you, too.”

#I AM SORRY ITS SO LATE #but also im so happy i did this #as much as i had trouble focusing #it's been ages since i wrote anything for cheol #i love him so much you guys #happy birthday sam #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt imagines #svt smut #s coups imagines #s coups smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol smut

634 notes · View notes

tessiete · 3 years ago

Note

TESS! Hope you are well!!!! Prompts prompts prompts! If you’re not already inundated with requests, allow me to add my own greedy submission to the pile: “Who gave you permission to fall asleep?” for Qui-Gon and Obi if you feel up to it! 🤟🏼❤️

WELL HELLO FRIEND!! I absolutely feel up to it. I'm just, you know, bad at time management, so I apologise for the delay. Please accept my many, most sincerest thanks for sending the prooompt in the form of this....thing. What I wrote. SOME BABY-WAN WHUMP, AND DAD-CARE!

You're absolutely wonderful! THANK YOU!

On The Clock

The sun never sets on Coravian Bast. It says so on all their coins, and all their dataries. It is stamped at the summit of every federal building, and pressed into the plastoid casing of every holobook, every datapad, every speeder and tug and ship they manufacture. It is both an astronomical truth, and the rallying cry of a people who, for centuries, have remained proud, and strong, living beneath the ever-burning glory of their sun. But now, that sun is burning out.

It is not by sabotage, or ambition, or folly. It is not brought about by anything more malicious than the passage of time, and it is a tragedy which has been predicted now for many years. And for many years, the government of Coravian has been planning. With the aid of the Republic and the support of several high ranking senators, Coravian has made arrangements for the mass migration of their population to new homes on new worlds. The sun will set on Coravian Bast, but never on her people.

Yet some do not go willingly. Some resist the edicts, and declare they will not leave. Some declare that they do not mean to let anyone else go either, and for this reason, the Jedi Council has seen fit to assign a Master-Padawan pair capable of overseeing the evacuations. Up to now, the population has been peaceful. The protestors have been loud, but cautious. They do not expect anything of note to happen. Master Jinn gives his padawan a sardonic grin and suggests that perhaps someone will give an impassioned speech.

“Coravinians are known for their philosophical debates,” he says. “Nearly every city has an ampitherium. It’s like a park filled with tall platforms wide enough only to stand on, but tall enough to see over the head of a grown wookiee.”

“What do they do on them?” Obi-Wan asks, in awe.

“They talk,” his master says. “Sometimes for hours.”

“About what?”

“Oh, this and that,” he says. “The longest recorded was a discourse on the nature of sentience in ancient korarchetropes of the protopaleo era, four thousand four hundred million years ago.”

“Oh,” says Obi-Wan, his brow furrowed in thought. “Did the korarchetropes leave many written records?”

“No, my padawan,” replies Qui-Gon. “They were a primitive, single-celled form of life.”

“Oh.” There is a pause, longer and more uncertain than before. “Will we have to listen to one while we’re there?”

The master smiles. “Not unless you are particularly disobedient.”

“Then I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Obi-Wan swears with a smirk. “I promise.”

It is not a difficult thing for him to be, his master thinks, and indeed he is the very picture of deference and decorum during the two weeks they are there. Every day, he walks at his side, three steps behind and one to the left. He is unobtrusive, and observant. He speaks intelligently when spoken to, and remembers every obscure custom and tradition that their hosts play out in preparation for leaving the planet, and Qui-Gon is proud. His padawan has come such a long way from the desperate little waif he’d found on Bandomeer, and yet not so far as to have lost that youthful naivety, and trust in the world. He will make a fine Knight, if Qui-Gon is careful enough. If he is restrained enough. And cautious. And aware.

And yet, no sooner does he conclude this than all his plans are torn apart, for the next day, as they stand upon the viewing stage to watch another transport of refuges lift off and head for space, there is an attack. The Coravinians do not fight with words this time, but with bombs and grenades. A sonic blast throws him from the platform before he can draw his saber, and in another instant the remains of the stage goes up in flames and it is all he can do to leap free and regain his bearings.

One of the federal aides is dead, lying torn and bloodied a few feet away. Another staggers forward, coughing in the smoke. Obi-Wan. Where is Obi-Wan?

He searches around him, frantic, but there is nothing he can see except fire and ash. In desperation, he turns his focus inward to pluck at the little strand of light between them, hoping that it may ring out clearly even amidst the chaos. It is still new, and still very slight. The thread tremors beneath the weight of his mental touch, singing its note high and sweet and very much alive.

“Obi-Wan!” he cries out, surging forward, following the thread as it draws him along its path until he comes to a heap of steel and stone. He reaches out in the Force, and with his hands, scrabbling at the pile of debris. With a single thought, he moves a heavy cement boulder, and he pushes back twisted steel and rebar.

“Master!” It’s Obi-Wan, and his voice is strong and steady. “Master, under here!”

Qui-Gon can feel his own fear clogging his throat. It tastes like oil and charcoal, and he spits to clear it from his mouth, working as fast as he can to reach his padawan. A few more seconds, and he discovers a pocket of air beneath the scrap. A pale hand, smeared in soot reaches up through a gap, flailing blindly for purchase.

“Padawan!” he cries, and he falls over the rubble to catch that small hand in his own, feeling the soft palms, and smooth skin, as yet unweathered by age or strife. “Obi-Wan, are you alright?” he asks.

“Yes, master,” his padawan replies. “I think - only, I think I hit my head.”

“Are you bleeding?” He does his best to keep his voice steady. To stay calm. To leave the thread taut and unplucked in his mind. He strokes the back of Obi-Wan’s hand in comfort.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s dark down here. Master -?”

“I’ll get you out,” he says. His grip slackens, and for a moment, Obi-Wan’s tightens in reflex, afraid of letting go, but he quickly masters himself and allows Qui-Gon to slip away.

Relying more on brute strength than the Force, Qui-Gon tears at the rock until it falls away, and he can reach inside the cavern to pull Obi-Wan free. Whether Obi-Wan is lighter than Qui-Gon anticipates, or whether his arms are fuelled with terror and fear, his padawan comes out of the rubble with enough momentum that he is sent staggering into his master’s arms, nearly falling to his knees. But Qui-Gon catches him, sets him aright, and is soon crouched before him, running his hands up and down his arms, over his shoulders and back, and along his scalp searching for injuries.

He finds one just above Obi-Wan’s left ear, hidden in his hairline. But even his thick, tawny tuffets cannot disguise the slick of blood, and his padawan winces as his fingers skim over the open wound.

“Anywhere else?” he demands.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “No, master,” he says, but his legs buckle, and his fingers clench around Qui-Gon’s forearms as he tries to resist the pull of nausea in his gut.

Qui-Gon frowns. “We need to get you to a medcentre.”

“No, master!” Obi-Wan protests. “The bombers. They’ll get away!”

“Little One, there is no chance they are anywhere close enough to be found. That is the purpose of a bomb. Did you feel anything amiss in the Force before it detonated?”

“No,” he says.

“Then you understand,” he replies. “If they were near, they would have surely stood out in a sea of otherwise placid civilians.”

“But still -”

“No,” the master insists. “You must be tended to first. You will not help me if you collapse while in pursuit of ghosts. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan says nothing, but he nods, his chin dropping to his chest, and his fingers flexing in the folds of Qui-Gon’s robes.

“Now, stay close, and follow me,” says Qui-Gon. He straightens again, peering through the smoke to find salvation. The wind has picked up. The ringing in his ears has stopped. He can hear the cries of dozens of injured people, but none that are near enough for him to help. Some ways away, he sees the ash of the explosion recede and finds sunny daylight beyond. With one hand to guide his student at the elbow, he makes for that.

Obi-Wan stumbles along, tripping over rock and rubble. With each step, he grows more and more uncoordinated. To Qui-Gon it seems as though he is half carrying him before they’ve gone more than a hundred yards.

“Master,” Obi-Wan mumbles, as his toe catches on a stone and his legs give out. He hardly makes any effort to save himself, but his fall is aborted by Qui-Gon’s hand at his arm. “Master, I don’t feel very well. I’d like to lie down.”

“Not yet, Obi-Wan,” he says, between gritted teeth. In the distance, he can make out a mass of emergency responders, all frantically attempting to organise the pandemonium into something civil and orderly. He drags his padawan on.

“M’sleepy,” Obi-Wan protests. And then, as if to prove his claim, his head drops and the full weight of his body swings into Qui-Gon, hinged at his arm where his master supports him still.

Qui-Gon grabs him around the middle, and attempts to prop him up, giving him a little shake. Obi-Wan’s head rolls on his neck, his eyelids fluttering as he fights for consciousness.

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon urges. Obi-Wan frowns. “Stay awake. Listen to me. Obi-Wan?”

“I’m listening, master…” he insists, but the words come out slurred, and his eyes close again. He slumps forward until his forehead falls against the pommel of Qui-Gon’s shoulder, and his body falls into his master’s arms.

“And yet you disobey me, anyway,” Qui-Gon huffs. He taps at his cheek, trying to make him laugh, or smirk. Anything. “Obi-Wan?” he prods. “Who gave you permission to fall asleep?”

“Mm,” his padawan says.

“Do you remember what I said? About the korarchetropes? You promised to obey me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, master,” Obi-Wan says. His voice is hardly more than a whisper. “You said they talk for hours. M’listening.”

“Then do as I say,” he stresses. “Stay awake.”

He feels him nod against his chest, but his breathing has slowed, and he doesn’t stir himself to reply. Qui-Gon coughs, and begins to speculate.

There is still smoke. Fires burn nearby, hot and stinging. They are not getting any closer to help, and he can feel blood seeping through his tunics. Though Obi-Wan is no longer as slight as he once was, Qui-Gon doesn’t hesitate to sweep him into an embrace, wrapping one leg around his waist, and throwing the boy’s arms around his neck. Like the child he so recently was, Obi-Wan presses close, his head tucking neatly beneath Qui-Gon’s chin, trusting and unresistant to being carried. He has not yet the dignity of adolescence to embarrass him. Nor the consciousness to suggest it. With his padawan held tight, Qui-Gon walks out of the darkness of destruction, and back into the light.

#my fic #prompt fill #asked and answered #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #obi-whump #gigglesandfreckles is the bee's knees #and other 20s superlatives #sw #fic #this fic is everything

73 notes · View notes

emwritesstuff · 3 years ago

Text

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

98 notes · View notes

alldayangst · 4 years ago

Text

love someone for loving you (Peter Parker)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Soulmate and uni AU.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x reader, Brad Davis x reader (for like, a second)

Warnings: Makeout sessions. Characters drink but they’re of age to do so in this fic. Peter says ACAB and if you disagree with that & can’t have a mature convo about it, then this isn’t the blog for you. This fic isn’t all the way accurate to the MCU timeline. Harry [Osborn] and MJ live in Queens. Betty, Flash, Ned, Brad, Peter and reader all attend NYU in Brooklyn.

Thank you for reading if you make it all the way to the end! Word count: 4.2K words.

Happy reading!

“You’re so fucking hot, y’know that?” You were making out with Brad in your dorm room, with the lights off. Brad was a nice enough guy. Had taken you out on a few dates. Told you your hair was pretty. Said he’d like to get to know you more. But you’re not as eager to take things further because something in your heart just knows he’s not your soulmate. And you’d like to wait a little while for the novelty to wear off before you did something you regretted and entered a relationship you’d known was doomed from the start. “So fucking hot.” Brad kissed along your neck, big sloppy wet ones that left saliva trails from his lips to your neck.

You didn’t like that kind.

And that was another reason you knew you and Brad weren’t destined, because your soulmate would just know what you like, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

It’s then that Brad tries to take your jumper off, but your soulmate tattoo is on your ribcage, and in this world, letting someone see your soulmate tattoo is probably makes you more vulnerable than getting naked in front of them. You try to pull your jumper down, but Brad doesn’t get the hint and tries again. You place your hands on his chest. “Not today, Brad.”

You don’t see Brad again. And maybe Brad was your soulmate because he led you to Peter. But Peter definitely wasn’t your soulmate, and I’ll tell you why you know that.

“Y/N!” Betty waved as you stumbled back into the party, shoes placed on improperly and no part of you subtle to what you’d been doing with Brad in your room just a few minutes ago. “Not you out of your room so early!” Your room door slammed behind you as Brad left your room, jacket in hand.

“Didn’t get any?” Betty made a fake pout at you, smoke breezing past her face as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as you found yourself in a circle with two of Betty’s friends she’d had yet to introduce you to. Sometimes, you wished Betty was your soulmate, but Betty made it clear before you signed the lease that you weren’t her type and truly, you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than friends. And you were the best of friends. Meaning she’d always be the first to comment heart eyes under your pictures and tell you to get that outfit because your booty was doing the thang in that pair of trousers.

Things would just be easier, if they were easy.

But things weren’t handed on a silver plate for you like they were for others; where they’d been friends with their soulmates since childhood, or lived up the street from them or their soulmate saved their life or something else blindly obvious. And, desperate to find the gold in the treasure chest, you moved upstate to school at NYU. Because great minds and all that. You stood in perfect silence for a minute, chaos never ceasing to happen around you, before Betty decided to make the strangers next to her strangers no more. One shook your hand and said, “I’m Ned.” Oh. So this is who Betty had been raving about? Betty grimaced and placed her hands together to plead with you not to expose her consuming infatuation with her new boyfriend. In a bid to divert the focus, Betty patted the back of the slightly taller one next to Ned, with wispy brown hair and eyes like fresh, raw cocoa. “I’m Peter, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You sway your attention back to Ned with a smirk on your face, Betty clutching her solo cup a little too hard, her inner monologue begging you to knock it off. You knew Betty was going to get you back for this, but you needed somewhere else to fixate your gaze since you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to ogle at Peter. With Brad’s saliva on your neck and having only known him for all of twenty seconds, you weren’t sure if Peter would take to any romantic advances. You weren’t even sure if he’d met his soulmate. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Ned.”

“All good I hope.” Ned replies and the room glints with his boyish grin.

“Well-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and it was probably for the better. Betty grabbed Ned’s arm, vodka making tiny puddles on the floor, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. In turn, that only gave you a great, genuine smile, loving to tease your friend. “Baby! We should go to another side of the party!”

“What about Peter?” Ned’s voice was getting lost in the jungle of party goers. “Peter can come.” Peter turned to go follow his friend, but not before mumbling a low, “See you around, Y/N.”, snaking his arms around your back, pulling you in for a quick hug. “See you around, Peter.”

He didn’t reply. Peter could only give you a thin lipped smile, packaged with a lazy half-nod before he was absorbed by the population around him, just as his friend was. And you cursed yourself that night for not taking your chances and saying more.

History was an 8am class, your only class in the morning. You woke with a a dull ache in your head and a dark mark on your neck that lasted longer than your relationship with the guy that gave it to you. The last thing you wanted was to run into Brad. But destiny offered you the next best thing.

“Oh. Hi, Flash.” You attempted to cover your face with your copy of Romeo & Juliet - if your soulmate was here, the last person you wanted them to see you with was Flash Thompson. Flash was walking backwards as you were walking forwards, unamused by his efforts to corner you. “Can we talk, Y/N?” Flash was Brad’s best friend, so you knew you were in for trouble.

“Can’t Brad speak to me himself? His mouth was working last night.”

“I can see that Y/N. Nice hickey.” You cringed, and Flash could tell he was running out of time to bemuse you. “Brad doesn’t want to bother you if you’re not interested-”

“Oh, so you decide to bother me instead.” You remark, and hop over a couple of steps so Flash had to awkwardly speed up.

“I just wanted to ask where you and him stood. Like, are you breaking up with him? I thought you had a pretty good thing going on.” His pace started to slow again as you slowly ascended up some of the last sets of steps. “I mean, seriously Y/N? What if you guys were soulmates? I wouldn’t wanna give up so easily.”

“That’s true.” You looked down at your sneakers. You hated this version of the world you lived in. Everything was driven by concepts, whether it be the concept of soulmates or the concept of time that left your campus filled with students five years older than they really were, or the concept of good and evil that spawned superheroes who you weren’t sure did more damage to the world than they gave back.

Overall, the concept of fate was once you had to always wrestle with. And you thought that maybe yours was standing at the top of the steps to rescue you from this conversation, ready to make Brad feel the trip of the guilt he and his friend tried to make you feel for not feeling the same way. “Y/N! We have class, c’mon!” Peter waved his goggles at the top of the steps, a knowing smile on his face as Flash looked up at him and glared.

Peter just had to steal his thunder on a sunny day.

You ran to meet Peter at the top of the steps. “Thank you for bailing me out. You’re a hero.”

Peter was startled. “Who, what, when, where, me?” He scratched the back of his neck and gave you an uncomfortable, stammered loop of laughter. “Hero? Not me. I’m just good ol’ Peter.”

You chuckled as you breathed out another ‘thank you’ and returned the hug Peter had left un-exchanged last night. “I’m guessing you have bio?”

“Guilty as charged. So what’s your major?”

“English Lit.”

“Oo, how long are you planning to work at Starbucks?” Peter remarked as he held to the main door open for you. “Peter?” He hummed in response. “Fuck you.”

You sat next to Betty in History, the professor droning on about something that made you question why you continued to take History, but as your best friend snatched your book from you, you were reminded. “Star crossed lovers, eh?” Betty skimmed through the fights and the love scenes that all culminated to the uncertainty whether Romeo and Juliet were even supposed to be together.

“Seems like you and Ned these days, huh.” You couldn’t believe that it had taken Betty three months to allow you to meet Ned, nevermind his cute friend. Ever since the ‘boyfriend’ label had been slapped on their little love affair a month and a half ago, you were beginning to see less and less of your best friend. It felt like two people paying for a single household, and with your lease ending in a short time, you worried Betty would almost evaporate from your life completely.

“Almost.” Betty tried to keep it hush, sheepishly grinning, but gave in completely in record time. “We said we’re gonna show each other our tattoos tonight!” She squealed, another student shushing her from the row above.

“Woah, that’s big!” It genuinely felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You realised you’d never gotten as far as Ned and Betty without either you or you partner showing your soulmate tattoo; and when they were never the same, you broke it off. “What if they’re not the same?”

“They will be.” Betty smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

Two loners getting together was never a recipe for success. Betty had given over your number to Ned, who handed it over to Peter, who’d texted you asking for you to come over: ‘wanna make it up to me for this morning at the steps? my bestie is with your bestie, so u wanna get pizza? do you like pineapple?’

Sure enough, you were over at Ned & Peter’s within ten minutes, Peter swinging the door open dressed in a tight red and blue top, a hoodie sparsely covering it, with an overexcited greeting of “Mi casa es su casa!”

The energy wasn’t returned. Not just yet. You had to be sure of something first. “Don’t tell me that there’s an American flag top under that hoodie.” Peter looks down at his Spidey suit which he’d completely forgotten he had on between scaling the ceiling in anxious anticipation of your text back. “Having such a boner for the USA is kind of a turn off.”

Peter started cussing under his breath and quickly turned to zip his hoodie all the way up. When he turns back to you, it’s word vomit. “I’m not saying I don’t love this country, I mean, I love Queens. I mean-”

You raise your eyebrows, curious to see where Peter would go with this. “The NYPD fucking hates me,”

“And what would they want with your little ass?” You walk into the apartment. He’d never admit it, but Peter kind of likes the way you bust his balls. It puts him on the spot, makes him want to tell the truth to you about who he really is.

“I mean, I can’t really say-”

“OK. I don’t wanna be an accessory to anything so,” You laugh. “I won’t push. ACAB.” There’s a thud that follows you closing the door.

“I agree. ACAB.”

A few hours pass with Peter and he’s beginning to unravel. He shows you the photos he’s taken over the years, several of them featuring a fair haired boy you’d never seen around campus before. “Is he your soulmate?”

Peter nearly chokes on the coffee he’d prepared for himself. “No. Harry? In his dreams.” He sets his mug down. “No, uh, that’s my friend. He lives back home in Queens.”

“You say back home like Queens isn’t a 10 minute drive from where we are.”

“Yeah. But it’s not right here.” You weren’t sure if you’d bruised Peter’s feelings, so you move onto another photo. There’s a polaroid that makes a thin pile with another on the table.

It’s the New York City skyline, from all the way up.

“How’d you get a photo from all the way up here?” Peter grabs the photo underneath it, but not before you catch a glimpse. The glossy paper is adorned with an image of a beautiful girl, black necklace around her neck, the scribbles underneath her photo reading ‘MJ, Pre-blip’.

You think this girl is too gorgeous to just be a friend.

But judging by the way Peter reacted when you suggested Harry was the same, you kept quiet. He didn’t want you to see it anyway.

“I’m really sticky and I climb up walls.” Peter being Peter is relieved he told you the truth, even if you didn’t know it.

“You’re weird, kid.” You thought you were being smooth, but you couldn’t help the way you look at his lips like they hold the answer to every question you’d had in your life.

“Uh-huh. But you like a bit of weird. Maybe Brad was too square for you.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

And then when you and Peter kiss, you suddenly understand what poets mean when they call your lips jigsaw puzzles, because yours and Peter’s slot perfectly together. And you get why there’s all these love songs on the radio, and you feel the Earth shift in your mind and you just know this is the unmistakeable indicator that Peter is your soulmate. Another reason you and Peter are destined, when he goes to kiss your neck, it’s like soft little hot touches.

You liked that kind.

And a soulmate would just know that, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

Peter rests his forehead on your own, lips swollen. “I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You and Peter cuddle for the rest of the night on his sofa, Ned and Betty doing the same on yours. And the novelty picks back up like clockwork.

“Peter? What if we aren’t soulmates?” you groaned, Peter’s hand on your head, keeping you snug to his chest. You and Peter had been dating close to two months now, Ned and Betty moving to five. In any other relationship, you would’ve called this phase The Ticking Time Bomb. You toyed with the black dahlia that sat perfectly between his pecs. Peter had been to Queens last week. He’d retrieved his necklace from the girl in the photo, MJ. She was an old friend, he said. Him and her? Not meant to be. Maybe in another life, he’d say. Another timeline. Then he’d gesture between the two of you. This. This is meant to be. Us.

Peter shrugged. “What if we weren’t?” Peter had an almost permanent bandage on his ribcage, exactly where your soulmate tattoo was. Where and how Peter got injured was a mystery to you, and he’d never dare tell you no matter how much you pushed. It almost made you wonder if he was keeping any more secrets from you.

You propped yourself up, both hands on his chest.

“I couldn’t move back in with Betty. She and Ned are soulmates, they need their privacy.”

“Who said you’d ever to move back in with Betty?”

“I couldn’t afford to live by myself, Peter. Not everyone had a Stark internship in high school.”

“Who said you’d have to move out at all?”

“If we’re not soulmates-” Peter moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a loving kiss. “What have I told you? You and me, we’re meant to be. Us.”

But you didn’t have the tattoos to prove it.

You and Betty were sitting in History class, ignoring the professor’s droning as per usual. Betty had this beaming smile on her face and you were sure if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she was going to explode all over someone’s Henry VIII’s notes.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?” She shrieked with scarlet cheeks.

“Spill.”

Betty let out a breath. “Well, since you insisted.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend. “I think Ned might propose tonight!”

“I feel like you should be taking me out to dinner before you dump all this load on me.”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, obviously too excited to contain her emotions. “What about you and Peter? The tattoos must match up since you’ve stayed around this long.”

“Actually, I-”

Betty makes an O face at you, which told you she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “C’mon. You haven’t played I’ll Show You Mine if you Show Me Yours?” Betty was in awe. “Y/N! You must really like him.”

You did really like Peter. That was the issue. You weren’t ready to feel jaded if your tattoos didn’t match up like they all inevitably did in the past. You felt something different for Peter. Betty was right. That was why you stuck around this long. “Hey Betty, is my old room still my room if things between me and Peter don’t work out?”

“Of course, Y/N! I’m here for you til’ the end of the line.” Betty pulled you into a great, big hug.

“OK. Session dismissed.” Your professor echoed. “Everyone can go. Y/N and Betty, stay after please.”

You’d gotten kicked off of History, which was bittersweet. Seeing as History was Betty’s major, your professor had to keep her there - but he was sure ‘she’d flourish once you two were separated.’

You and Betty walked out of the main entrance, Ned and Peter both waiting for you under the shelter at the top of the steps. Seasons had changed. It was far from the summer day Peter had to spotted you on the way to class. “We’re gonna run in, drink some cocoa. We’ll catch you guys later.” Ned shivered as Betty re-engulfed him in his jacket she’d been holding for the scent.

Love was weird, but you wanted so bad to be a part of it.

You turned to Peter beside you. “And what are we gonna do?”

“Swinging.”

“Peter, I don’t swing. I’m perfectly happy in our relationship.”

Peter held onto your waist, your head nuzzled into his neck, not daring to look down at the city below you. This was the first time you’d ever experienced something like this, no doubt, but Peter was getting a strange sense of deja vu.

“Y/N!” You didn’t move from your place in his neck, but he knew you could hear him. “I love you. I trust you.”

“You’re-” You didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Fucking.” You opened one eye just to be sure you weren’t dreaming. “Spiderman!”

“I’m something more important: your boyfriend.”

Leave it to Peter Parker to get all sappy with you in the middle of the sky.

You opened both your eyes now. “What about my soulmate?”

“What?” Startled, Peter lost controls of his webs for a moment, and knocked his rib on the side of a building. Luckily for you, you were lower to the ground.

‘Injury detected,’ Peter’s AI, Karen, stated.

“Yeah, I know, Karen.” Peter stated.

“Is it right there, babe?” Peter nodded, sat on the concrete, and pressed the spider in the middle of his suit. You watched as it became loose.

Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his ribcage. Maybe you had your answers as to how Peter always seemed to be hurt, but you needed your ultimate answer. And it was behind the bandage. “Right here, are you sure babe?”

You were on edge. You weren’t sure what you’d do if fate didn’t allow this to be true. For the sake of your heart.

So you peeled back the bandage.

And you found nothing there but a series of bruises. Your heart was crushed. “Nothing, Peter. There’s nothing there.” You had tears in your eyes, and before long you were ugly crying. This wasn’t a case of the novelty wearing off. This was a case of the novelty being broken down ‘til it can’t function no more.

“That’s a good thing baby, maybe I just need to go to a hospital.”

“No, I mean it Peter! There’s nothing there!” You pull up your heart to reveal a half full shirt printed on your body twenty one years ago, this exact heart only belonging to one other person in the world. But it wasn’t Peter. Even though he had just told you he loved you. “Fuck!” Your voice became incomprehensible, drowned out in tears and squeaks of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t see each other any more. T-there is someone out there for me. You need to understand.”

And, unsure if your legs would take you all the way, you made your journey to Betty.

When you made it to Betty’s, she stood in the doorway with a rock on her finger. You couldn’t see that, though, through your tear blurred vision.

“Oh, poor baby.” She immediately embraced you, with Ned circling to your side to group hug you. You sniff into her shoulder. “He’s not-we’re not-”

“My darling.” She pauses. “I’m hoping you got the first month’s rent.” She laughed and you laughed before she pulled you back in her embrace and allowed you to feel what you needed to feel.

It’s often underestimated how miserable you need to be in order to cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even know you did until you woke in your old room, your old band poster replaced by a calendar titled ‘Ned and Betty Forever’ and you laughed because Ned and Betty hadn’t even known each other longer than than six calendar months.

And you missed your windowsill on which you’d perch and overlook the breathtaking view of Brooklyn, and the even more awe-inspiring view of NYU students hurling after one too many, especially after yours and Betty’s parties.

“Do you guys even clean this room?” You called out. “You got a serious case of cobwebs.”

Peter lowered himself to meet your view. You were about to draw the blinds on him, only to realise Betty and Ned had gotten them removed whilst you were living with Peter.

“Hear me out.”

“I have no choice.” You chew on the flesh of your cheek. “You took a while to find me.”

“You left me for dead.”

It was hard to beat that one.

“Peter, if you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m sorry.” he’s swinging upside down, side to side and it slightly amuses you to think he’s getting dizzy if the last three months were at your expense. “I know how much this soulmate bullshit means to you, and I kept you longer than you would’ve liked. I’m also sorry ‘cause I knew I wasn’t your soulmate from the start.”

You gasp.

“But I wouldn’t in a billion years say that either you or I belong to someone else. MJ is my soulmate, yes. I love her with all my heart, but I believe destiny can change in the same world where people disappear for five years. MJ moved on. I’ve moved on. Who cares about a stupid tattoo? People go to parlours and give themselves their own all the time. People get them removed all the time. I’m getting my black dahlia erased.” Your face softens a little bit at that, you guard slightly down, but you refuse to wave a white flag without first making your point.

You rubbed your rib cage. “I care.”

“Y/N, you’re smarter than to deny what you feel. You’re an English major, studying Romeo and Juliet. You understand the world better than I do, and I’ve been to 600 different versions of it. You have a heart half full on your ribcage and I have half a flower on my foot. Tell me, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?”

You know the answer’s the same one Betty gave Ned tonight when he got down on one knee, the same response you’d give Peter if he was to ask you the same question, what you’d tell anyone if they queried if you’d go through what you went with Peter all over again.

You pull down his mask, and look deep into both of Peter’s eyes, and still him from swinging. “Love someone for loving you for a change.”

And you don’t have to say it, Ned and Betty hiss it out for you not so subtly from the windowsill in the livingroom. “Yes!”

So when you and Peter kiss, it’s not about novelties or concepts, fate or tomorrow, it’s just the beautiful bliss that is love, in this moment.

The unmistakable indicator that you and Peter are meant to be.

Fin.

Credit for the gif goes to: @/tomhollandnet

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

127 notes · View notes

pastelwitchling · 3 years ago

Text

It started with a phone call.

Michael had come to the bunker in hopes of looking through some of the Project Shepherd archives to find more information on his mom. Or, at least, that was what he’d told Alex. In truth, he’d been sitting in his own bunker beneath his airstream, hitting dead end after dead end, and staring at the constellation and planet alignments had started to eat away at his brain.

In truth? He’d been restless after countless nights of a lack of sleep, and he wanted to see Alex. He didn’t know why, but it was like Alex was the only one who could see through the mess of his thoughts to the small, coherent part that was always seeking comfort. With one look, one smile, one word, one touch, Michael felt himself at a peace around Alex he’d never known anywhere else. He could finally breathe.

And for about the first five minutes after he’d arrived, he’d dared hope that he would have Alex all to himself. He’d found Alex at the bunker, pouring over decrypted files on a computer, and felt his heart jump at the sight of him. Even with his hair tousled, with the dark circles around his eyes, with his brows pinched like his mind was always busy, he was beautiful. And Michael had been the only one around for his attention.

Until he hadn’t been. Until Forrest – goddamn Forrest – called him and his eyes lit up and he smiled in a way he didn’t really smile around Michael. Until Long suggested he and Alex visit the caves where he was sure the Air Force had camped out back in 1947, and he’d leapt up at the chance to see his ex.

Yeah. That’s right. His ex. But God, you really wouldn’t be able to tell that they’d broken up at all. Michael doubted they had, but Isobel had assured him with a knowing smirk that Alex had told her things were over.

“It was a totally mutual, healthy breakup,” apparently.

It’s just that they were still so close, they still hung out whenever either of them got the chance, they still looked at each other with such a fondness that made Michael want to punch a wall. He’d learned his lesson the first time though, after leaving the Wild Pony in the middle of Alex’s song, secretly hoping not much would come of it, and then finding out Alex and Forrest were very cutely, very frustratingly, very much in like with each other. He’d learned not to leave Alex with any other guys he knew would want to date him again, mutual breakup be damned.

So when Alex had told him where he was going, Michael insisted on coming along.

“You sure?” Alex had asked. Not with any reluctance in his voice, but genuine curiosity. “We’d have to do a bit of hiking up those caves.”

“I love hiking,” Michael had lied. “Besides, you’re gonna want me there to fend off any coyotes and giant birds.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Alex had merely smiled at him and said, “I’d want you there anyway.”

Leaving Michael to melt into a puddle, Alex walked out ahead of him.

It made the lie a little easier to bear. See, he not only hated hiking, he hated hiking alongside Forrest Long who, like the perfect little prick he was, had been all too gracious about bringing Michael along.

“Adventure with an alien,” he’d said with that wide, perfect smile of his, and a shake of his head. “Only in Roswell.”

Michael knew, somewhere deep, deep down, that Forrest was an awesome guy. He understood why Alex had been so taken with him. But here’s the thing; Alex had been taken with him. Knowing, as they climbed the rocky terrain under the sun, today mercifully halfway obscured by clouds, that Alex and Forrest had dated, had kissed, had slept together – it did things to his mind that frightened even him. It unnaturally bothered him, and no matter how kind or friendly Forrest was, Michael couldn’t let it go.

It was made worse when he and Forrest both reached the peak of a rocky hill, Alex following behind them, and they both offered him a hand to hold for the last few steps up. Without thinking, Alex took Forrest’s hand, and laughed as Forrest tugged him up with an exaggerated show of strength.

“Thanks,” he’d panted, still smiling. At Forrest.

As Michael swallowed and put his hand down, trying not to feel dejected, he saw Alex glance his way. He saw realization dawn, saw his eyes soften at Michael, as if in silent apology for not taking him up on his offer. Michael could only look away.

Let it go, he’d told himself as Forrest surveyed the area below. Let it go.

Of course he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Why do we need him again?” he grumbled under his breath so that only Alex could hear him.

Alex didn’t seem offended or frustrated by the question. Instead, he smiled, amused. Michael loved that smile.

“He’s a history buff,” Alex said. “He’s done extensive study on the grounds here. He knows it better than anybody.”

“Yeah, study to support his conspiracies,” Michael reminded him edgily. “He’s a conspiracy theorist, Alex.”

“I found out about you through conspiracies,” Alex noted.

Michael blushed. “That’s different.”

He laughed, and Michael thought he might melt all over again.

“Babe,” Forrest said, and amended, “Sorry, Alex, come look at this.”

Michael’s eye twitched. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Alex patted his shoulder. “Shh.”

He went to Forrest’s side as he pointed at something below; a crater, just beside one of the larger caves’ mouths. “When I was going through the layout in the library, I found faint records of those kinds of craters.”

Alex moved dangerously close to the edge, his eyes narrowed. “What’s the story there?”

“Well, most of the records said about what you would expect; explosion of rocks from a volcano.”

Michael just barely resisted rolling his eyes as he tipped his hat back. “And the unofficial record?”

Forrest smirked. “Meteors hit the ground here when something broke through the earth’s atmosphere and let them in.”

Michael looked to Alex, already doubtful, but Alex looked focused, like he was thinking through the logistics.

“It makes sense,” he concluded. “It would definitely explain the Air Force encampments out here. Anything to do with the skies is their territory.”

“You mean, your territory?” Forrest smiled, and Alex scoffed.

Michael pursed his lips. The wind up here was a little colder, quickly drying the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead and the nape of his neck.

“If you even buy the whole encampment thing in the first place.”

Forrest, infuriatingly, shrugged a shoulder. “Fair.”

Oh my God, Michael thought, clenching his jaw.

Alex seemed to be able to read his thoughts, and he shook his head, smiling. “Look, I’m not saying it’s definitely what happened, but it fits with everything else we know so far. The Air Force had troops around this area, and there’s no way your pods broke through without opening up the atmosphere to residual space matters.”

Forrest groaned. “I love it when you go all military genius on me.”

Alex winked at him, and they both burst out into laughter. Michael looked around for help from the birds, hoping they’d at least recognize with him how ridiculous and unfair all of this was. He felt left out, like there was a bubble around Alex and Forrest that he couldn’t penetrate. He knew it was childish to be upset by it, but damn it, he was upset by it.

“So what do we do now?” he said a little loudly, hoping to cut in. “Take pictures? Call Max and Isobel? Write a blog?”

Alex stood, and Michael couldn’t fail to notice him wince, as if his leg pained him. “We should get a closer look,” he said. “The abrasions might give us a better idea of what we’re dealing wi—ah!”

Alex was cut off as a bit of earth beneath him crumbled away, and, his leg too stiff after climbing to move, he slid down the steep rock.

“Alex!” Michael and Forrest leapt for him, but he was already falling towards a cluster of sharp rocks at the base of the caves.

“No!” Michael yelled, reaching out for Alex and using his powers to avert his direction at the last second, rolling him onto a patch of grass instead.

“Oh my God,” he heard Forrest say before they were both up and running back down the way they’d come.

Alex was just pushing himself up onto all fours when Michael and Forrest fell at his side.

“Hey,” Michael breathed, gently pushing Alex’s bangs back from his eyes. Blood leaked from his forehead, trailing down his cheek, and dripping off his jaw onto his shirt. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

“Uh . . .” Alex shut his eyes tight, his expression twisted in pain. “Yeah, I’m – I’m fine.” He exhaled slowly, forcing himself up into a sitting position.

Forrest put his hands on his shoulders. “Maybe we should go to the hospital,” he suggested, his brows furrowed with concern as his eyes lingered on the patch of blood on Alex’s shirt. “That was a pretty nasty fall, Alex.”

“He said he’s fine,” Michael said, and stood, pulling Alex up with him. For a second, Alex swayed, looking like he might be sick. His grip on Michael’s arms was relentless, but, too soon, he let go and roughly wiped away the rest of the blood that was now staining his cheek.

Forrest looked doubtful. “Alex –”

“It’s okay, Forrest,” he said. “I’m okay, really.”

He didn’t look happy about it, but he offered Alex his arm, nonetheless. “At least hold onto me or something.”

Alex chuckled weakly, and leaned in, kissing Forrest’s cheek. “The second I start to feel sick, I’ll lean on you, okay?”

Forrest seemed a little more reassured and nodded, and Michael, his tongue in his cheek, walked off towards the crater. “We looking into this thing or what?”

Soon, they were each surrounding the crater, which was a lot larger up close than it had looked from the top of the cave. Alex knelt at one side, eyes narrowed. He stepped into the crater and ran a finger across the surface.

“Smooth rock,” he muttered, and rubbed his eyes with his forearm. “Strong.”

“That’s not right,” Forrest frowned.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

Michael nodded. Now he understood what Alex had been looking for. “The ground here is supposed to be rough, shattered.”

“Exactly,” Alex said. “It’s too clean to be caused by anything natural.”

Forrest looked to Michael. “Are you getting any, you know, feelings around this place?”

“What, like some Star Wars Jedi tracker?”

Alex raised a brow. “Since when do you watch Star Wars?”

Michael blushed. Since you looked at Kyle like he’d committed treason for not knowing what it was, and I wanted to impress you.

Before Michael could even attempt to make up some lie though, Alex fell down to one knee again, heaving.

“Whoa, Alex!” he slid into the crater and crouched in front of him. He put a hand between his shoulder blades, and felt his breaths turn heavier and shakier.

Forrest hurried to their side and knelt beside him. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Alex, what are you feeling?”

“D-Dizzy,” Alex managed, and Michael was shocked to see sweat dampening the tips of his hair. “I don’t . . . I c-can’t . . .”

Michael knelt down, too. “Alex,” he tried softly. “Look at me, baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m g-gonna be s-s-sick,” Alex managed through short breaths.

Michael clenched his jaw, cupping Alex’s cheek. Despite the sweat, his skin was cool to the touch, his teeth were chattering and he was shivering, his eyes heavily-lidded. He was turning pale way too quickly.

Michael’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“Alex,” he said calmly, trying very hard not to let the horror of the situation touch his voice. “I need you to get on my back, okay?” He turned his back to Alex, and gestured at Forrest. “Long, help him.”

Forrest looked between Michael and Alex worriedly, but nodded. “Right,” he said, and gently but firmly guided Alex onto Michael’s back. “What’s happening to him?” he murmured to Michael so that Alex couldn’t hear. “His forehead stopped bleeding, why does he look like he’s going to pass out?”

Michael glanced over his shoulder at Alex who had shut his eyes tight, his fists curled in Michael’s shirt, his knuckles white with his grip. As he turned and led the longer way back to his truck, he quietly said, “I think his fall was a lot worse than it looked. He must’ve ruptured an organ or something.”

Forrest glanced at Alex, terrified. “He’d bleeding internally?”

Michael nodded. “And he’s getting too tired too quickly. We have to hurry.”

Forrest was clearly terrified, but one glance at Alex and he must’ve known that he couldn’t show that fear on his face. Instead, he nodded once and kept a hand on Alex’s back as they moved as quickly as they could.

When they finally made it to Michael’s truck, Forrest insisted on staying in the backseat with Alex.

“He might need me,” he said, not caring at all about leaving his car behind. Michael could only set his truck in drive, silently grateful to have an extra set of caring hands with Alex. And he drove like hell, breaking every speed limit and getting more than a few angry honks along the way.

“Hold on, Alex,” Forrest said to Alex who had his head on his lap, trembling and gasping. When he started raking Alex’s hair back, Michael couldn’t find it in him to be jealous, only afraid. He hoped whatever Forrest was doing was making Alex just a little more comfortable, giving him a little more time.

“You’re gonna be fine, baby,” he promised, the words heavy on his tongue. It was when they were barely ten minutes away from the hospital that Forrest gasped.

“Guerin,” he sounded panicked, “he’s out.”

“What?” Michael looked over his shoulder. Alex’s eyes were closed, his body limp.

“Oh my God,” Forrest breathed. “Oh my God –”

“Don’t freak out on me now, Long,” Michael said. There wasn’t time to curl up into a ball and cry, there wasn’t time to be afraid. He had to save Alex.

The gas pedal was on the floor of the truck, Michael was glued to his seat as the wind howled past. When they finally arrived at the hospital, Michael didn’t bother going to the parking lot. Instead, the tires skidded as he curved to a stop in front of the automatic double doors. He barely parked the car before he was out. He opened the door and Forrest helped put Alex on his back.

Michael ran through the doors with Forrest behind him, keeping Alex securely in place.

“Help!” they both screamed. “He needs help!”

“Please,” Forrest said shakily to the nurses as they rushed forward to take Alex and put him on a gurney. “You have to save him!”

“What the hell?” Kyle appeared amidst the men and woman already starting to lead Alex away. His eyes were wide as they fell on his best friend, passed out and injured. “Alex?”

“He fell,” Michael tried, but Kyle was already in full doctor-mode, pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket. “We think he might be bleeding internally.”

“Damn it, Manes,” he muttered, and pressed two fingers to Alex’s neck. “Pulse is weak,” he said as they hurried down a hall. He opened one of Alex’s eyes with his fingers, shining a light across his pupil. “Unresponsive. Start an IV drip and prepare room 69 for a blood transfusion.”

“Yes, doctor,” a nurse said. They went through the set of double doors marked ER, and another nurse held up a hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she looked it, “but you have to stay out here.”

“But –” Forrest tried.

“The doctor will do all he can,” she said. “Please excuse me,” and she disappeared behind the doors as well, leaving Forrest and Michael in silence.

Forrest slid down against the wall and stared at the ceiling while Michael ran a hand across his jaw. Neither of them said anything for a long time, the muffled sounds of heart monitors and ringing telephones echoing through the walls and somehow making the hallway feel even emptier than it already was.

Finally, Forrest hoarsely said, “I’m sorry. I – I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. You were so calm, I . . . how did you do it?”

“I wasn’t calm,” Michael confessed before he could help it, and even he could hear the tremor in his voice. He took his hat off and used his other hand to run his fingers through his curls. “I’m – I’m not calm.”

It was all he said, but it seemed to be enough as Forrest’s eyes softened and he nodded in silent understanding. Once again, Michael found himself grateful not to have to say the words he was thinking.

They sat in silence for another few seconds before Michael couldn’t take it anymore. “I didn’t want him to listen to you,” he said. “You wanted him to go to the hospital, and I didn’t want him to choose you again, so I pushed.”

He sniffed angrily, his eyes burning. He looked away. “If we’re really assigning blame, then –”

“We’re not,” Forrest cut him off. He looked as miserable as Michael felt, not as though he held Michael responsible at all. He whispered, “We’re not.”

Michael’s lower lip trembled, but he quickly rubbed his face, hiding it.

“Do you know why we broke up?” Forrest said. “Me and Alex?” Michael shook his head. “We both agreed that there was one person Alex loved more than anybody else in the world. And it wasn’t me.”

He held Michael’s startled gaze, and shrugged a shoulder, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. “What I’m saying is, Guerin, you didn’t have to do much pushing. Alex would go to the ends of the earth for you. He likes me, but . . . he loves you.”

Michael could think of nothing to say to that. He sat down opposite Forrest, his arm rested on one knee. Two men Alex had been with, two men who loved him beyond words could say.

Michael finally settled on, “You’re not so bad, Long.”

Forrest chuckled weakly. “’Course not. I just gave you the best news you’ll ever get in your life.”

And despite it all, Michael huffed a weak laugh of his own. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

Any semblance of a smile vanished in an instant as the silence and seriousness of the situation fell like a heavy blanket on Michael’s chest, as the wait turned from minutes to an hour, and the fear of news to come loomed over their heads.

When the doors opened and Kyle stepped out, the two were on their feet in an instant.

“Well?” Michael demanded.

“How is he?” Forrest asked.

Kyle glared from Forrest to Michael. He huffed, annoyed, and Michael felt such an intense relief that he almost sobbed right there and then. “He has rock debris imbedded in his skin and a gash in his forehead! Where’d he fall off, a mountain?”

“So he’s okay?” Forrest said, his hands still shaking.

Kyle sighed. “Yeah, he’ll be fine after a few days.” He pointed a threatening finger at Michael. “You are so lucky, Guerin, you got him here just in time. If he wasn’t so used to heavy military training already –”

“I want to see him,” Michael interrupted.

Kyle hesitated, but Forrest urged, “Let him. If anyone can help heal Alex faster, it’s him, you know it is.”

He shook his head at the ceiling, as if asking for patience. “Since when are you two BFFs? You know what? I don’t care, go see him, whatever, but if his vitals jump one nanosecond, I’m kicking you out. Got it?”

“I know you’ll try,” Michael said, patting Kyle’s shoulder as he rushed past him through the double doors.

There were two nurses on either side of Alex’s bed, one adjusting the IV drip attached to Alex’s arm, and the other securing the bandage on his forehead, just above his right eye. They finished up, and nodded once to Michael as they passed him on their way out.

Michael knew they’d transfer Alex to another room soon, and they wouldn’t have the privacy that they did now, so he wasted no time in taking his hand and kissing his fingers.

“You’re okay,” he breathed against Alex’s skin, pressing his fingers to the pulse at his wrist, if only to reassure himself. “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

The heart monitor’s steady beep beep beep was the only response Michael got, but he told himself it was a reminder that Alex was alive. He could make out the faint outline of bandages just beneath Alex’s ribs under the thin white blanket, and he swallowed thickly, willing himself to look away.

He gently pushed back Alex’s bangs without disrupting the bandage, and leaned in, pressing a faint kiss to his forehead. When he pulled back, he found Alex’s eyes fluttering open. He smiled, relieved.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered.

Alex took a while to answer, breathing deeply and softly. “Where am I?”

“The ER,” Michael explained. “You had internal bleeding, they had to sew you back up.”

“What?” Alex frowned and tried to sit up, but he winced and his mouth fell open in pain.

“Easy, easy,” Michael said softly, wrapping his arms around him to lay him back down. “You don’t wanna open your stitching.” He sighed, keeping his arms around Alex, even as he was settled against his pillows. “I thought, you know, with the military thing, it’d be okay to tell you without beating around the bush.”

“And you?” Alex murmured, his brows pinched with pain, his hand gripping Michael’s forearm tightly. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

“Me?” he blinked, his face turning hot embarrassingly quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, his hand still holding Michael’s. “Good. That’s good.”

Michael huffed a chuckle, shaking his head. “You were cut open, and you’re thinking of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you,” Alex said without missing a beat, and Michael swallowed, all humor gone.

A few seconds passed in silence, then –

“You scared me, Alex,” he confessed. “I – I thought . . .” a lump formed in his throat and he cleared it. “I thought I’d . . .”

Alex opened his eyes to meet his gaze. Michael didn’t know what he was searching for, but he must’ve found it, because the next thing he knew, Alex was trying to move to one side of his bed.

“What’re you doing?” Michael said, covering Alex’s hand on his arm with his own. “I told you, you need to –”

“Get under the covers,” Alex said, throwing one side of the blanket back. Michael made out the edge of a bandage wrapped tightly around Alex’s waist. There was no sign of bleeding, so Michael took it as good news, but he was still hesitant to climb in.

“What if I hurt you?” he said. “If Valenti sees us –”

“Kyle, huh?” he smiled. “He knew what he was getting into, letting you in. Come on, Guerin, please.”

Michael bit his lower lip, and found he wanted nothing more than to obey. He kicked off his boots, set his hat on the ground, and slid into bed beside Alex. He was slow, careful, gentle. He ended up on his side while Alex stayed on his back, his forehead pressed to Alex’s temple. When they were as comfortable as they were going to get, he pushed his face into Alex’s hair and inhaled deeply.

His eyes burned, and a sob escaped his lips on the exhale. He reached an arm around Alex’s shoulders and hugged him as tightly as he could without moving him.

Alex didn’t seem surprised, and it occurred to Michael that inviting him into bed had been more for his sake.

“Shh,” Alex said softly, reaching a hand up to place in Michael’s curls, raking his hair. He whispered, “I’m okay. Breathe, Guerin. Breathe.”

Michael tried, his breath hitching as the tears kept falling, and he held Alex tighter. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses on his temple, his ear, his cheek.

“You’re so warm,” Alex murmured as his eyes fluttered shut, but his vitals were still normal, so Michael knew he was just falling asleep again. “Don’t leave me here, Guerin. Promise me.”

“I’ll never leave you,” Michael promised. Alex drifted, but his fingers kept combing through Michael’s hair. “Never.”

***

It’s good to be back 🥰❤

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

60 notes · View notes

vintagedolan · 4 years ago

Text

mixtape | track fourteen

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Today’s lecture is on end of life. Death. Passing. However you want to refer to it, it’s about the process of a human being who was here, not being here anymore. And it’s particularly about your role in helping them go peacefully.”

Indy swallowed hard.

The wound was still fresh. It didn’t matter that it was May. Bekah’s funeral could have been just yesterday. She could see the wood grain of the podium she’d delivered the eulogy at in front of her if she closed her eyes for a few seconds too long.

Instead, she looked forward, found her professor in the front of the lecture hall. Dr. Ginn. A quirky woman, who seemed determined to live up to Indy’s first impression as she climbed onto her desk and sat with her clicker in her hand, legs criss-cross.

“Now. Doctors and death, they don’t mix. If I had to guess, a doctor’s worst fear is death. They spend their whole lives fighting it. But nurses? We’re different.”

Indy liked the sound of we.

“For us, the priorities shift. As nurses, your job is just as much to push epi as it is to hold someone’s hand. And you are the one that makes that call. You are the last comfort that a lot of people have in their lives. You are the backbone for the family, for the friends who are there to say goodbye. And you are there to make sure your patient goes as peacefully as they can. That is the most important part of your job, hands down. And if that’s not something you can see yourself doing, then you need to rethink and probably change your career.”

The hall was silent apart from the clicking of laptop keys.

“Now. On that lovely note, let’s get started. A code blue, or as I call it, an ‘oh shit’...”

A message notification appeared on the right corner of Indy’s screen as she opened her notes.

Coffee after class?

Indy smiled, and in lieu of listening for a moment, she let her mind wander back to February...

Grayson was really trying. But it was hard to break habits that he’d been so comfortable with since the first day that he met Indiana. It took so much mental effort to not hold her hand, to not brush her hair behind her ear - so much that Indy nudged him in the side as they walked.

“Where’d you go?”

“Sorry, just thinking.”

She had a good guess of what he was thinking about, or more specifically what he was waiting for.

An answer.

Indy could hear Nicole in her mind, telling her to be careful, to be careful with her heart. She thought of what her mother would say if she met Grayson as she walked beside him on the sidewalk. It kept her mind busy until they got to the familiar door that Grayson pulled open for her. If nothing else made sense, at least there was always Jet’s, with it’s comforting constant vanilla smell and that favorite blue chair that Indy beelined for while Gray went to the counter.

Patrick looked ready to commit murder when he realized who was ordering, but Indy shot him a smile from across the store that softened him up just enough for Grayson to make it out with their coffees unscathed.

“So he definitely hates my guts,” Gray mumbled as he sat down, making sure his back was to the bar.

“He’s a protective one, you know this,” Indy teased as she sipped her coffee.

“How soon did you start working here again after… after I left.”

“I gave myself a couple days. I definitely wasn’t at my peak on my first day if that’s what you’re asking.” She let out a dry chuckle.

“Did you start here or the hospital first?”

“Same time. The tech job kinda fell in my lap, and I needed the money for rent. I only really came back here so I could afford therapy. They have a benefits package for all their employees.”

Grayson froze, but his cup quivered in his hand as he shook.

“I… because of…”

“No, no no, not because of you. I mean, I did talk about the stuff going on with her cause we’ve been having sessions but I was planning on going since graduation. I wanted to get a handle on the whole flying thing.”

The reason went unspoken, and Grayson’s hands didn’t stop shaking, though his breathing came a bit easier.

“Is it going okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, haven’t really been on a plane to test anything out. But I did better than I thought I would when you were flying out, considering. So that’s a good sign. And my therapist is really nice, we’re a pretty good match.”

“Good. That’s good.” It wasn’t lost on him what it meant that she still cared that he was on a plane. Hope riled in his belly and he beat it back down as best he could.

There was a lull that was filled with the sounds of coffee beans grinding until Indy spoke up again.

“What have you been up to out in LA?”

Grayson swallowed. He looked at her quickly, her soft smile that made him feel like he could tell her anything, no matter how embarrassing it was.

“Honestly? I did fuck all. I mean, I did the basics I guess, with the companies and stuff. But I kinda let the misery have me. You did a hell of a lot better than me, that’s for damn sure.”

“I wasn’t doing great, believe me.”

“But at least you were trying,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “And I caused all this, I didn’t really have an excuse.”

“It’s in the past now. Nothing we can do to change it.”

“For the record, I wish I could. More than anything.”

“I know.”

“I really am sorry Dee. I know it’s not enough, but I am.”

“I know that too.”

The next beat of silence was painful, and it took a moment for Grayson to realize that it was now or never.

“Remember how bad our first date went? How I had that whole plan that just totally didn’t work?”

“The thunderstorm. I remember.” It made her smile, and she could picture every frame of it, from the ocean hallway to the remnants of apple juice on his lips.

“And I told you I was gonna save the real date for later.”

Indy nodded.

“Could we… can I do it now? Can I take you on a date?”

The thought brought butterflies to Indy’s stomach, but she blamed it on the coffee.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice. What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll show you. Technically Jet’s was first on the list anyways, but the next part is a surprise.”

With that, she stood up and followed him out into the street.

They started their walk separate, but it only took a moment for Indy to grab onto Grayson’s hand. He told himself it was out of necessity so they didn’t get split up in a feeble attempt to keep his hopes from getting away from him. Still, his stomach fluttered high above the pavement as they enjoyed the setting sun and willfully ignored the chill of the wind whipping around the buildings of the city. Eventually, his plan unfolded when they reached the entrance of the Highline. It was one of Indy’s favorite places in the city, but she knew she’d never told Grayson that. He just knew her well enough it seemed.

They walked in peaceful silence for a while, hands squeezed tight against one another’s despite the lull in the foot traffic.

Indy smiled at their luck when they finally found an empty bench with a nice view of the skyline. She tugged Grayson over to it and kept her eyes forward for a moment before she looked over at him. His eyes were on the sky, skin flushed pink from the pigment on the clouds or the chill of the wind, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. He was beautiful, and he was hers if she wanted him.

Across the walkway, a young girl walked with her mom, who had a baby carrier strapped to her chest with a head of fuzzy hair just visible within it. The mom was rushing it seemed, and Indy realized the baby was crying loudly, sharp wails that became more audible as they passed by. The girl was dragging a small lion stuffed animal behind her, and Grayson watched as it slipped out of her hands and onto the concrete.

“Joey! Momma, momma I dropped Joey! Joey!” The girl cried out, but her mom continued to tug her along as she reached back for her lion.

Grayson was on his feet before Indy could say a word, jogging by and scooping up the small stuffed animal. He politely tapped the mother on the shoulder to get her to stop, then squatted down to the girl.

“Is this Joey?”

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as she held her hand out for her toy. He passed it over slowly with a smile.

“Hold on tight to him okay?”

“Okay mister,” she said, voice high and quiet.

And right then, Indy saw everything she ever wanted. She saw her kids, with Grayson’s hair and Grayson’s eyes and Grayson’s laugh, she could see him carrying them up to bed, see him dancing with a little girl standing on his toes in their kitchen somewhere, see him passing her a little stuffed animal. She could see him in every facet of the future she hadn’t let herself imagine since he’d left, but her fantasies came rushing back so fast it felt like she was floating.

As if she could ever want anyone else.

She reached over for his hand as he walked back over, intertwining their fingers and letting him sit down before she finally spoke.

“I love this city. I love this city so much. It’s always been all I really needed.”

Grayson felt lightheaded as he prepared himself for what she was going to say.

“I know,” was all he could say.

Indy took a deep breath and turned towards Grayson with a soft smile. She could see the apprehension in his eyes as he waited for her to say something else.

“Did I tell you that Devin came to see me while you were gone?”

He shook his head.

“He came to check on me, since I wasn’t answering anyone.”

Grayson’s throat was tight as he pictured it in his head, the guilt overwhelming him. He reached over and squeezed her knee - a silent apology.

“He helped me figure out that I want to go into nursing, helped me get my head on straight.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Grayson said quietly.

“He told me I need to go for what I want. ‘Ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there’. That’s what he said. And I thought that’s what I was doing. I was going after a PhD, and my life in New York, and all these things I always wanted. Things I thought were really important. But they aren’t.”

He frowned. “Dee, your dreams are important.”

“I know, I know, and I’m not saying I’m giving up on that. I just mean my priorities I guess. I had them twisted, and I was missing the most important thing.”

She smiled his favorite smile as he tried to swallow.

He couldn’t make himself ask, just in case he was wrong, but she put him out of his misery after a moment.

“You. You’re the most important thing.”

She was suddenly blurry as his eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve never been good at change, but you’re worth it to me. If being with you means spending less time in New York, then it’s worth it. And I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like you weren’t.” She was crying too, and Grayson lifted his free hand to her cheek, wiping each tear with his thumb.

“Never. You never made me feel like that. I was the one that ran, because I never wanted you to feel like you ever had to give up anything for me.”

“Because you don’t realize that you’re worth giving things up for. You don’t realize how worth loving you are.”

He was fully crying now, a broken laugh making it’s way past his lips.

“Does that mean you still love me?”

She smiled.

“Never stopped.”

And she kissed him, and all was right in the world again for a moment. It didn’t matter that there were people walking by, and that their cheeks were wet from their tears. They were kissing and that meant that everything would be okay.

Any stranger that walked by surely had to feel the relief in the air when they pulled back and realized they could lean right back in without a single care in the world. He let go of her hand only to move it to her other cheek, to hold her steady there cradled in his palms as she kissed him between smiles - his whole world in his hands.

In that moment, he wanted more than anything to love her loud.

He pulled back just enough to bring her up to her feet and then his arms were wrapped around her waist, spinning her around until she was breathless and the city was a blur behind both their eyes. And for the first time that he could remember in too many years to count, he didn’t care who could hear him, and he didn’t care who was watching.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I missed you.”

Being back in each other’s arms was as easy as breathing. She didn’t stray an inch from his side, soaking in the warmth of his body next to hers as they made their way down from the highline as the city started to light up. By the time they made it home her toes were numb from the cold but her cheeks were still warm, seeing that every time they had to wait for a crosswalk Grayson ducked down to kiss her again.

When they got to the lobby, Grayson squeezed her hand.

“I gotta get something out of the truck, I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to wait here or head on up?”

He pondered it for a minute.

“Wait for me.”

She nodded. She always waited for him, after all.

He disappeared out of the glass doors at a jog and Indy heard a chuckle from the side of the lobby. She looked over to see the receptionist smiling down at her computer. Indy prided herself on being a very low maintenance tenant, but she still smiled and waved to the woman behind the counter whenever she passed by. Her name tag read Cara in neat white letters.

“Sorry if we were loud,” Indy said sheepishly. Cara laughed.

“Just happy to see you smiling that’s all. I’m glad he’s back.”

Indy blushed bright red before she answered. “Yeah. Me too.”

Grayson was slightly winded when he came back, and he was grateful for the long elevator ride as he held the small gift bag in his hand. Indy pretended she didn’t see it like her mom had always taught her to when she received a gift. Still, her eyes flickered to it each time she knew she could get away with it, her curiosity getting the better of her.

When they finally got inside the apartment he led her over to the living room by the hand and passed her the bag.

“I didn’t know how today was going to go, but I wanted you to have this either way. Figured you could put it on your shelf. When you’re ready.”

Indy pulled the tissue paper out and saw the rose gold edge of a picture frame. She pulled it out and her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh.”

Bekah was smiling.

It warmed the whole image in a way that had Indy’s eyes burning as she tried to place the day. She was curled up on the bed next to Beks, but she wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, she was looking at the girl beside her. Her little sister in a way, who was tucked away under her halloween blanket.

“That’s the night we had the word search tournament, and you both schooled me,” Grayson explained quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing at her hip under her sweatshirt. She remembered then, noticed the activity book in the corner of the picture.

“I didn’t even know you took this.”

“I know you like pictures, I meant to take more of you guys. But I like her smile in this one. Yours too.”

Indy sniffled and leaned her head back onto Grayson’s shoulder. “You’ve made me cry twice now you know.”

He kissed her temple and moved a hand to her forearm.

S-O-R-R-Y

He drew a heart afterwards, and even invisible on her skin she could tell it was lopsided. It made her smile, and she soaked in the feeling of him next to her for a moment before she spun around to kiss him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before pulling him in for a tight hug that had her up on her tiptoes when he wrapped her up. They held each other for a moment before Indy got an idea.

“I have something for you too. Wait here.”

Grayson kept his hands on her waist, thumbs rubbing over her skin underneath her sweatshirt.

“Stay,” he pouted.

“It’ll just take a second, I promise. Just wait here.”

She kissed him quickly just because she could and disappeared into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

He lasted about 45 seconds before he was picking at his fingernails. Then he was taking a few steps towards the door, fighting the urge to stick his ear up to it to see if he could get a hint at what she was doing.

Another minute passed, and he felt like he was going to lose it.

“Indyyyy,” he whined. “You’re killin’ me babe.”

“You’re so dramatic oh my god it’s been like a minute tops.”

“One minute too long,” he teased just in hopes of making her laugh. It warmed his heart to hear it, even muffled through the door. It still felt like an eternity before she finally reappeared with her hands behind her back.

“You know, you didn’t need to get me anything. Having you back is more than I deserve already.”

Indy’s laugh was louder this time since she was right in front of him.

“Who knew a Jersey boy could be so damn sappy,” she teased. “I don’t have a frame or anything, but here.”

She pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to him quickly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet while she waited for him to read it. It felt like an eternity while she watched his eyes scan over the letters, seemingly missing the UCLA logo in the top corner.

“Did you… are you reading? Did you see it?”

Grayson looked up with a smile and drew a circle in the air around his face.

“Dyslexic,” he reminded her gently.

She bit her lip and tried her hardest to be patient, waiting until his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wait… wait. What is this? UCLA? Nursing?” He looked up at her cautiously, trying to keep his excitement in check in case he’d misread. “What is this?”

“Well. There’s a lot of good nursing programs out there. And LA has some top notch hospitals too. Especially pediatric ones. Figured it couldn’t hurt to apply, and they’ve got a pretty good tuition coverage package, it’s close to your house, and-”

Grayson’s lips were on hers, his excitement palpable.

She kissed him back with a smile, relieved to finally tell someone about the grand plan she’d made in her head now that all the pieces had come together.

“You’re sure?”

Indiana smiled. “You’re worth it. You’re what I want, forever.”

He kissed her again, making up for lost time and telling her everything he couldn’t find the words for. They walked backwards until the back of his legs hit the couch and she ended up crawling onto his lap, beaming down at him when they finally broke apart.

“You’re actually coming to LA. We’re gonna live there.”

“Guess I gotta start apartment shopping,” she mused.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “Shut up and c’mere.”

He bailed them to the side until Indy was fully on top of him.

“I’ll build you a shelf for our bedroom. Fuck, I’ll build you 50 shelves as soon as we get there. Wait when do classes start, when do you have to move?”

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” she hummed, leaning down to kiss him again. It was slow and purposeful, warm in that familiar way as they remembered each other fully. “We’ll figure it all out,” Indy said eventually, scooting down his torso until her head could rest comfortably on his chest. She listened to his heart beat, a bit fast from either her presence or the coffee, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it was still her favorite sound, and as his hand moved through her hair gently, she knew she’d made the right choice, no matter where it took her.

3 months later, the place it took her was the passenger seat of Grayson’s brand new tesla, which was delightfully cool despite the warmth of the incoming summer making the LA air dry and warm. Grayson held out a hand for her to pass her backpack, tossing it into the backseat as if it wasn’t weighed down with three textbooks. She pulled the door closed behind her and let her head rest back against the seat for a moment before she turned to him.

“Hi.”

He beamed, leaning over the console to give her a quick kiss. “Hey. Good day?”

“Long day, but yeah, it was fine. Got a shit ton of assignments per usual.”

“Hey, three day weekend next week though, and we’re going to New York. What’d you learn?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Meds, codes, diseases, death. Truly uplifting stuff.”

He reached his hand over to her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand moved the wheel effortlessly, pulling back out onto the road.

“Still want coffee? You didn’t answer.”

“Do I ever say no to coffee?”

“Fair points. Text E squared and see if they want anything.”

“They weren’t home?”

“No, they ran to the store, but they should be back by the time we get there.”

“If Eden went to Target without me I’m gonna be pissed,” Indy mumbled halfheartedly, typing out the text in their group chat quickly. “You know she’s gonna say she wants Jet’s.”

“Believe me I know, just ask Ethan. You’ve created a monster. We’ve gotta start asking Patrick to send beans in bulk or something, we go through them so fast now that she drinks it too.”

Indy just laughed and turned up the radio, unsurprised to hear Cudi from Grayson’s playlist he’d made for their car rides. It was routine now for him to pick her up from class, save her from the hassle of trying to find parking on campus. And it gave them some more alone time considering they lived with Ethan and Eden at the house. So, it wasn’t abnormal for Grayson to happily add 20 minutes to the drive to pick up coffee on the way home. Purdy’s was right down the street after all, and though their lattes weren’t quite as perfect as Jet’s, they held their own.

“We should buy Patrick some fancy beans somewhere and take them with us next weekend,” Grayson mused.

“You’re such a suck up, it’s not like he’s giving us free coffee,” Indy laughed. “You’re just still scared of him.”

“Fuck yeah I am! Every time we’ve gone home he looks like he wants to straight up murder me.”

She reached over to hold his cheek for a moment as she bit back her laugh.

“Baby. Patrick can barely lift a 50 pound box of syrup. Believe it or not, I think you could take him.”

He rolled his eyes but the comment wasn’t lost on his ego, especially when his girl leaned over to wrap her arm around his bicep and rest her cheek on it, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin left behind by his tank top. They ordered through the drive thru, surprised when neither Eden or Ethan responded to them. The car was peaceful, even more so when Grayson put it on autopilot and gave Indy more of his attention, trying to ease the stress he could feel coming off of her like it always did when she got out of class.

“Tell me about your lecture,” he said, hoping talking it through would help her.

She sipped on her coffee as she spoke, starting without many details but eventually going more in depth as she got more excited. It was one of Grayson’s favorite parts of listening to her talk about the things she cared about, and even though half of the information went right over his head he listened intently anyways, tried to take it all in as the car drove them home.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Indy’s coffee was gone along with her stress, and Grayson knew all the steps to running a code blue. He hopped out first, grabbing her bag from the backseat and slinging it over his shoulder as they headed to the front door.

The first sign that something was different was the quiet of the house. Any other time that E squared was left alone, Grayson and Indy would come back to the speakers blaring, a scary movie on the living room TV, or the distant sound of a headboard knocking against the wall.

But it was dead silent, and the pair looked at each other before they scanned the room.

“They’re up to something,” Indy muttered, peaking around the wall to make sure Ethan wasn’t going to scare them.

“For sure. Something is off with Ethan, just don’t know what it is.”

“Oh, you got a feeling huh?” Indy teased, bumping him with her elbow. He took her waist in his hands and pulled her back against him, making her laugh as he tickled her and buried his face in her neck. He never got tired of having her so close - it was just as intoxicating as the first time.

“Sorry you don’t understand the twin connection.”

“Well, use your psychic powers to figure out where the fuck they are then.”

He closed his eyes for dramatic effect, smiling when it got the laugh he wanted out of her. Just as he lifted his fingers to his temple, a bang sounded from the backdoor, making Indy squeal and cling onto Grayson. He went to move her behind him until he saw the culprit - a tennis ball bouncing away across the yard.

“You’re okay, it’s just E,” Grayson breathed, relaxing and moving towards the door to find where his brother was hiding. They walked into the backyard hand in hand, following the sound of music coming from the pool, which was finally finished in the back corner of the property.

Ethan was at the entrance, his biggest smile on his face as he waited for them to get closer. Impatient as ever, he started walking towards them, meeting them halfway across the grass.

“Took you guys long enough to get home. We bought new stuff for the pool, come look at it.”

“E, bro, I told you not to buy random shit on your own,” Grayson grumbled, obviously weary of his brother’s interior design skills.

“Eden was with him,” Indy reminded him at a whisper.

“Just come on,” Ethan said, grabbing onto his brother’s hand and starting to drag him towards the pool.

“Jesus bro, calm down.”

Ethan ignored him, looking to make sure Grayson was bringing Indy along too until they made it around the corner where the small pool was in view.

“Surprise!” Ethan beamed, holding his hand out towards the water. Beside it on the concrete were some new additions.

Four loungers, a beautiful teal color with rounded contour that looked perfect for tanning. In fact, Eden was on one of them sprawled out in her bathing suit, and she looked so comfortable that Indy barely noticed the miniature fifth chair next to her at the end of the line up.

Brain fried from class, it took Indy a moment to piece it together.

5 chairs. 4 people. One smaller than the rest.

“No way,” she gasped, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Eden no way!”

Indy was already moving towards her best friend before she could get to her feet, ignoring Grayson’s confused calls of “what? huh?” from behind her.

“Yes way,” Eden sniffled, a nervous laugh coming through as she put a hand over her stomach.

“How far along? When did you find out?”

“A couple days ago, we went to the doctor to find out for sure this morning. She said we’re about 7 weeks.”

Indy pulled her in for a hug.

“Wait. Wait.” Grayson was yelling now, catching on with no doubt a few hints from Ethan. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck, you’re pregnant?! She’s PREGNANT?!” He grabbed his brother’s face with both hands and shook him just barely.

“I’m gonna be a fucking dad,” Ethan said, and Indy melted when she realized he was about to cry.

“You’re gonna be a fucking dad,” Grayson repeated, shaking him twice more before he pulled him in for the tightest hug Indy had ever seen them share. The girls watched them for a moment before Indy turned her attention back to Eden.

“How are you feeling with all this?”

“Well I’ve just started having morning sickness, my appetite has been super weird, vegan cheese makes me want to straight up die…”

“Right right, but I mean like… mentally. You okay? This is a big change.”

Even just standing there, the boy's excitement was slightly overwhelming, especially with Grayson literally running around yelling about being an uncle. She was sure that Ethan had been excited from the moment of a positive test.

“A very big change that we weren’t really expecting,” Eden said quietly, looking down at her manicured toes.

“How are you feeling about it?” Indy asked again, reaching out to hold her hand. Eden squeezed tightly.

“Honestly? I’m fucking terrified,” she admitted. “And Ethan’s been great, it’s not that, it’s just… there’s a human in me. Right now. Just chillin’ in there.”

“Yep, there do be a human in there,” Indy laughed at her bluntness. “What are you scared about?”

“Everything. I’m afraid I’m gonna do something that’s gonna hurt them. I don’t know shit about pregnancy, like real pregnancy, and don’t even get me started on trying to push this thing out of me.”

“We’ve got a while to figure all that out. And you aren’t going to do anything that’s going to hurt them. You’re a good mom.”

“Jesus, a mom. Ethan keeps saying that but it sounds different coming from a woman. A fucking mom. You’re gonna have to teach me all the medical stuff… wait actually no I don’t think I even want to know what’s going on in there. I’ll just focus on figuring out how the fuck I’m gonna be a mom.”

“You’ll be great. And you’ll have Ethan too. Those two were pretty much born to be dads,” Indy said. They turned and looked to see Grayson hauling Ethan up to sit on his shoulders before running what she assumed was a victory lap around the backyard.

“Yeah… remind me of that for the next nine months. Regularly.”

They both started laughing and pulled in for another hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” Indy sighed with the warmest smile, images of baby showers and Eden’s bump and the office as a nursery already spinning through her mind.

“Love you aunt… Indiana? Indy?”

Indy scrunched her nose. “We’ll have to work on that one,” she teased, taking her hand and leading her over to their boys, who were still somehow yelling.

They both came running, but Grayson was faster, scooping Eden up and spinning her around so fast that Ethan was immediately scolding him, urging him to be careful.

“She’s not that delicate bub, it’s okay,” Indy reassured him, getting up on her tiptoes to give Ethan a hug. He squeezed her tight and whispered in her ear.

“She okay? You guys are the first ones we’ve told.”

“Just a little scared, like all pregnant people are. Totally normal.”

“Good. I’m glad you know, she’s been dying to tell a girl. Only so much I can do.”

She leaned back with a smile. “You’re doing great already.”

Those words meant more to Ethan than she would ever know, but all he could do was smile and head back over to Eden, a hand across her tummy when she leaned up against his side.

“We’re gonna tell Li when we’re all home next weekend, but Eden’s parents are coming over for dinner in a little while and we’re gonna tell them now so we can do it in person,” Ethan explained, pressing a kiss to Eden’s hair.

“We’ll make ourselves scarce for the evening,” Indy offered, sensing the nerves already rising for Eden. She’d have enough of an audience.

“Okay but first we gotta get a picture of everybody, we’re gonna make an album of telling everybody.” Ethan was already moving as he spoke, setting his phone up on the patio table with the timer on. They all posed with Ethan pointing excitedly to Eden’s non-existent bump before they all headed back inside, still buzzing with excitement.

Grayson stayed particularly close as they gathered around the island, his hand resting on Indy’s hip as they all settled after a few moments. They all helped to straighten up the house in preparation for Eden’s family’s arrival, and Grayson appeared behind Indiana with a smile as she placed a blanket over the back of the couch.

“Date night?”

Indy had lost count of how many dates they’d been on, but those words never failed to make her stomach swirl.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I know you said you have homework so… Monty’s, secret beach… with flashcards?”

“You truly know the way to my heart.” She kissed him softly and followed him to their room to change into beach clothes. As she sifted through the drawers, she couldn’t help but look at the shelf. It was bigger than the one she’d had in New York, more sturdy with thicker wood and longer, able to hold more frames.

That was a good thing, because there had been some new additions. The picture of Nicole, the baby picture of her and Charlie, and the engagement picture with them and Devin all stood tall beside each other. Down the line came the picture of Indy and Grayson at her graduation, the one where he was dipping her back slightly and wearing her cap. Then was Bekah in her hospital bed - it still made Indy’s chest tight when she looked at it. There were two new ones since then - one of the four of them taken by Lisa in front of their tiny homes, and another of all of them at thanksgiving that they’d finally gotten printed.

“We need to get that picture we just took from Ethan, I wanna put it on the shelf.”

“I’m gonna have to build you another shelf,” he teased as he pulled his swim trunks up.

“Think you’ll probably be building stuff for the nursery first.”

“Shut up, do you really think they’ll let me?” His eyes lit up and Indy laughed as she pulled her New York sweatshirt down over her bikini top.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s gonna be so much fun! What all do you need in a nursery though? I mean a crib, obviously. A dresser? Do you need a dresser for baby clothes or can you just stack them up cause they’re so tiny?”

“We can talk about it while we drive,” Indy redirected him, taking his hand and leading him out of their room, down the hall and out to the car before he could bombard the other couple of the house with questions.

The excitement was palpable for the whole drive, buzzing within the cab as they made their way to Monty’s, ordered their vegan burgers and raspberry lemonades and snuck away to their secret place on the beach.

Considering it was a Wednesday evening, they didn’t expect it to be busy, but they were particularly excited to see that it was completely empty apart from a few stray crabs that went scurrying away at the sound of their footsteps.

Grayson set out the blanket that was always in the back of the tesla for trips like this and Indy set down their bags and drinks, getting everything settled so they could simply sit down and enjoy their meal.

It was peaceful, calm as the ocean lapped up against the sand gently and they filled their tummies. Grayson was done before Indy, per usual, and he basked in the last remnants of the sun while she finished her fries.

“Wanna swim?” Indy asked.

“Thought we were supposed to wait 30 minutes.”

“That’s a myth,” she teased, standing up to her feet and helping him to his. They walked down to the water quickly, gasping a bit at the cold of the water. Still, there was nothing that compared to the feeling of being in the waves, and Indy braved it. Grayson had every muscle tensed against the cold, but he’d follow her anywhere. Soon enough they were up to shoulder height water, kicking gently to get over the waves when they needed to, arms wrapped around each other to keep warm.

“I can’t believe they’re gonna have a kid. Were gonna be Aunt Dee and Uncle Grayson. What the fuck,” Grayson murmured, half distracted by the way the orange of the sky was starting to reflect off of Indy’s eyes.

“It’s gonna be so much fun to have a little one around. They’re gonna be such good parents.”

“You know who would be even better parents? Us,” he beamed. He looked so beautiful when he smiled, and Indy ran her thumb along his jaw.

“Let me finish school and find a job before you go putting a baby in me,” Indy laughed, but her heart warmed at the thought. She remembered the little girl on the highline, and she wanted it for the two of them.

“You’re done in like a year and a half.”

“Correct,” Indy confirmed it.

“I always thought I’d be married before I had a kid,” Grayson said, trying to bite back his excitement.

She wasn’t sure if it was the bliss of the water around them, or the steadiness of his arms, or the fact that she always felt like she was home when she was with him, but in that moment, she knew.

“Okay. Then let’s get married.”

“Are you serious? You aren’t fucking with me? You really wanna get married?”

“Did I ever give you the impression that I didn’t want to marry you someday?” She teased.

Grayson could only laugh, and look up towards the skies and thank whatever angels were listening and watching for all that he’d been given.

He was pretty sure he knew at least three that were there with him.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much. Don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Indy kissed him. The feeling was mutual in the most effortless way, and there was a sense of peace that she wasn’t used to in that moment, knowing that everything would somehow work itself out and she would have him with her for the rest of her life.

And for once, the timeline of her life wasn’t her priority anymore. She didn’t care what date she’d finish school, or when she’d get her job. And she didn’t care when he would propose, or when they’d find out they were having a child of their own. Because in all those moments, whenever they happened, he would be there, and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

They kissed slow, quiet for a while, and as the sun dipped below the horizon Grayson carried her back out onto the sand. They wrapped themselves up in the same towel and found each other’s lips again, warm and familiar and safe as they lost themselves within one another over and over again.

Her lips were chapped by the time they pulled away, both giddy at the realizations that they’d always know finally being said out loud.

“How much homework do you have?”

“Just studying, I can do it in the morning. What’s the plan?” She knew he wouldn’t have asked if there wasn’t something he wanted to do.

“I’ll show you. Just trust me.”

“Okay,” she answered without a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, with salty hair and big smiles, they pulled up to a tattoo parlor.

“I thought you got all yours from Alexis now?”

“Gotta get this one tonight. Special day.”

Indy looked at the neon signs, and the artwork on the walls through the window. She pondered it for a minute, and something in her told her to go for it.

“I think I’m gonna get one too.”

Grayson perked up at that. “Really?” He knew every inch of her body, knew it would be her first one.

“Something small. Something for Beks.”

He smiled and kissed her temple before he got out to open her door.

Indy went first. A small lightning bolt, like the one on Bekah’s headscarf. And, the thunderstorm of their first date in the city. She got it tucked away behind her ear, in the same place of Grayson’s triple threes. His angel number, and her reminder of both of hers. It didn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would, but Grayson sat beside her anyways, rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand while he held it.

D-O-I-N-G G-O-O-D he wrote.

“Thanks,” she smiled softly. “Bet you won’t even flinch during yours.”

“That's the idea. You can study while I get mine, I want it to be a surprise.”

Hers only took a few minutes, and her lecture material was at the back of her mind once the artist cleaned her up and moved over the Grayson. He grabbed his wallet from her backpack where he’d stowed it and Indy took a seat in one of the chairs in the lobby, occasionally turning her head towards the mirror so she could see her new ink.

Across the shop, Grayson took his shirt off.

“You can pull the letters from these, and I want it right here.” He passed over the stack of flashcards he’d snagged, sure that they’d be able to find what they needed.

“Bitch of a spot,” the artist said quietly as he prepped over his ribs, but he just laughed. From the view of Grayson’s covered legs, he wasn’t sure there was any spot too painful for him.

“She’s worth it,” Grayson said, closing his eyes and waiting. The sting of the needle was familiar, and it did hurt as he moved over each bone. But when he looked in the mirror, it was all worth it. He didn’t even bother putting his shirt on as he paid the artist in cash, including a big tip, and headed out to the lobby.

Indy was sifting through her bag.

“Looking for these?” Grayson held up a small stack of flashcards with a devious grin. “Sorry, had to borrow them for my tat.”

Indy’s brows furrowed, and she stood up, moving closer as he lifted his arm and showed her his ribcage.

In small handwriting, her handwriting, was the word ‘forever’.

“Right where you always trace it.”

To her surprise, her eyes started to burn.

“Gray…” She knew how important his tattoos were to him, what each and every one of them meant.

“Consider it a promise. I’m with you. Forever.”

He ducked down to kiss her, and she smiled against him, hand resting on his torso right below his promise.

She liked the sound of forever.

#SHES DONE #SHES FINISHED HOLY FUCK #mixtape #IM GONNA CRY FR IM TEARING UP OVER HERE

83 notes · View notes