#JUST CUT OUT THE MIDDLE MAN???? STOP BORING ME TO DEATH WITH THE SAME THINGS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Burn The Witch 18 - Sleepless Night [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Midnight texts make things complicated.

Series Masterlist

Okay.

Everything considered, maybe you shouldn’t have barged in guns blazing to your fake boyfriend’s mission.

Especially because the said fake boyfriend thought you were a sweet civilian but as long as you kept your ski mask on, you figured you would be fine.

Even if it felt a lot like pushing your luck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked and you looked around the hall to check whether there was anyone else, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I was in the area,” you said, “So, who else are we killing?”

“We’re not killing.”

“Speak for yourself, I just killed that guy over there.” You pointed over your shoulder “Killed him hard. HYDRA?”

“Aren’t you a sniper?”

“I can be whoever you want me to be,” you said with a grin and Bucky blinked a couple of times, shifting his weight.

“Why aren’t you on some rooftop if you’re a sniper?”

“Change of scenery. How do you know my alias?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I’m a nice person—“ you started but as soon as you saw someone lunging out of the shadows you pointed your gun and pulled the trigger, sending the guy to the ground.

“Most of the time,” you completed your sentence and Bucky raised his brows.

“Right.”

“You’re still taken?” you asked and he stared at you as if he was at loss for words, then pulled himself together and walked past you.

“Oh come on, I just saved your ass.”

“I had it under control.”

“No you didn’t,” you rushed to catch up with him, “And you didn’t answer my question. You still got a girl at home?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just curious. Is she pretty?”

“Do you always flirt with people you don’t know?”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could, you heard a voice behind you.

“Buck, what the hell man?”

You looked over your shoulder to see Sam gawking at you and Bucky cleared his throat.

“Um….Sam, Shrike.”

“Okay, what is she doing here?”

“Beats me.”

“I was around,” you answered helpfully, “So who are we killing?”

“We’re not killing!” Bucky and Sam said at the same time and you held up your hands.

“Jesus, fine. Who are we maiming?”

“Did you tell her—“

“I didn’t tell her anything.” Bucky cut him off, looking uncomfortable for some reason. You hummed, clicking your tongue.

“I’m just here to help.”

“Why?” Sam asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m a huge fan?”

“Try again.”

“I’m hoping he’ll get with me.” You pointed at Bucky with your thumb, making him shake his head. Sam raised his brows, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Oh is that right?”

“Don’t.” Bucky said while you heaved a sigh.

“Listen guys, not that I don’t enjoy this but this is basically a HYDRA building, so you might want to make it fast, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Can you wait at the door while I get—the thing?” Sam asked Bucky and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Great!”

“I didn’t say you could come.” Bucky said and you scoffed.

“I gotta tell you, I was hoping you would say that to me in a completely different context.”

Sam let out a chuckle, “Oh she’s good.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I don’t even want to know what you’re trying to get, okay?” you asked, “I just want to make sure no one dies.”

“Because you’re a nice person?” Bucky asked, his voice full of doubt and you thought for a moment.

“Eh, I have my reasons.”

“But she has a point, we need to make it fast.” Sam said, “Let’s go.”

“Seriously?!” Bucky groaned but rushed after him with you following his lead. After you all reached the end of the hall, Sam kicked the door open and you quickly peeked inside to see a computer in the middle of the office.

Ah.

They were after some sort of a file.

“Don’t let anyone in,” Sam said and closed the door behind him. You leaned your back to the wall, flipping a knife in your hand and Bucky stole a look at you.

“Why Shrike?”

You turned your head, “Hm?”

“Why do they call you Shrike?”

You clicked your tongue, “Oh you wouldn’t get it,” you said and he tilted his head.

“Try me,” he said, “Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

I kicked a target out of the window and he fell on top of a steel spike from a construction site.

“I like knives better than guns,” you lied and Bucky scoffed.

“You’re a sniper.”

“So were you, but look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a favorite knife.”

“I can’t look you in the eye, your mask has goggles,” Bucky retorted, making you smile.

“My turn,” you said, “Is your girlfriend pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Bucky said without even hesitation and you had to hold back your aww.

“Does that mean I don’t have a shot?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Maybe I’m prettier,” you taunted and he shook his head.

“Impossible.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face under the mask, “Loyal type, aren’t you?”

“Not a cheater at least.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well that’s a shame,” you said, “Lucky girl.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

“Maybe I should—“ you started but stopped talking when you saw a shadow by the hall.

“I call dibs,” you said before Bucky could even object, then grabbed and pulled the figure around the corner. He almost punched you but you dodged it, sending him back with a kick on the chest.

“No killing,” Bucky called out calmly and you groaned, dodging another punch as you did a backflip, then grabbed your opponent by the hair and slammed his head in the wall, making him pass out.

“Don’t be so vanilla, Barnes.” You commented as you made your way back to him, and tilted your head when you saw the way he was looking at you, almost—

Impressed?

No it wasn’t it, it was something else.

“Huh?” he asked, then tried to pull himself together, “Wh— I’m not even going to ask.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with liking it a little rough,” you grinned, “On the missions, that is.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You can kill someone and flirt with someone else within minutes?”

“What can I say, I’m the whole package,” you stated, “I mean, not that it works on you, Mr I’m-in-a-relationship. So are you in love then?”

“Forgive me if I don’t want to share any details of my relationship with a homicidal maniac who apparently has a thing for bad pick-up lines.”

“How rude,” you pouted, “I think they’re really good pick-up lines.”

You could see the way he was trying to suppress a smile and you flipped the knife in your hand again, his eyes automatically following your movements.

“You won’t take off that mask, will you?” he asked after a beat and you shook your head.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t like the consequences if you saw my face.”

“Will you tell me who you work for?”

“Nope,” you said, “I don’t want to end up dead. My superiors have a strange idea of discipline.”

“Why are you helping us?” he asked again but before you could come up with an excuse, the door opened.

“It’s done, let’s go.” Sam said and you pushed yourself off the wall.

“We should do this again sometime,” you said and nodded at Sam “Captain.”

Sam smiled slightly. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem,” you said and turned to look at Bucky.

“Until next time, soldier,” you said and walked away from them, smirking to yourself.

***

So maybe that was a heat of the moment decision, and maybe Chloe was going to kill you if she ever found out about what had happened but good news was that your cover wasn’t blown.

And Bucky was fine.

You turned the vacuum cleaner off, wiping at your brow and put your hands on your hips, looking around the apartment.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You let out a squeal and turned around to see Keith standing by the doorframe.

“Keith, what the fuck?!”

“What are you doing?”

“How did you get in?”

“I’m a spy. I heard vacuum cleaner and I thought someone broke into your apartment, so I had to check.”

“You thought someone broke into my apartment to clean it?”

“Someone’s gotta,” he commented, making you glare at him before you unplugged the vacuum cleaner. “I’ve literally never seen you clean, what is happening?”

You flung yourself on the couch so that he could sit beside you. “No wonder I don’t do this shit, it’s boring.”

“But why are you doing it?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll invite Bucky over.”

“So what?”

“I can’t have the apartment look like this,” you motioned around, “The guy grew up in the…. Everyone’s apartment must be spotless era.”

“He’s been here before though—“ Keith started but then covered his mouth, “Oh shit, now I get it. You’re gonna jump on his bones.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Not even a word, Keith.”

“I have lots of words,” he said, “Number one, you do realize guys don’t care about the apartment, right? I have never once gone to a girl’s apartment and walked out because she hadn’t vacuumed the place.”

“Jesus.”

“Also, if you’re trying to go all wife material—“

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not.”

“I’d like to remind you that it’s a fake relationship,” he grinned, “Are you going to dress up like a Stepford Wife too?”

“I hate the day I decided to become your friend.”

“You love me,” he shot back and you slipped a little on the couch, “But hey, do you actually want to?”

“Want to do what?”

“To sleep with him?” he asked, “Or is it just the mission?”

You tried to keep your expression stable, excitement filling you at the thought of sleeping with Bucky.

Tonight.

Oh God, you felt like a lovesick girl instead of a serious spy.

“It’ll help the mission,” you lied through your teeth, “That’s all I’m focused on right now.”

“Aren’t you a little curious about how the most ruthless assassin of the century is in bed though?”

You let a grin pull at your lips, “Maybe?”

“Ha! I knew it!” he said triumphantly, “So how detailed will your report be, exactly? Asking for a friend.”

You threw a pillow at him, “You’re terrible.”

“Mm hm,” he checked his watch, “Ugh, I gotta go to base. But if I don’t see you before tonight, just…”

“I don’t want any gross advice, Keith.”

“Remember,” he said, “You have a cover to maintain.”

You pulled your brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your cover probably likes missionary and soul gazing and stuff in bed. Complete opposite of you, so don’t be like yourself.”

“How do you even-?”

“I have it on good authority that you like knife play, Y/N,” he said, making your jaw drop, “And your cover is a sweet small town girl.”

“Did you talk to Julian?!” you exclaimed and he made a face.

“No,” he said, “You have a knife collection, you idiot. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Bullshit, who told you—“

“Ryan,” he said, “The agent you slept with and dumped, before Julian.”

“He was boring.”

“It’s beyond me why you thought it was a good idea to sleep with him,” he shook his head, “Anyways, I’m out.”

“Why do you have to go to the base, exactly?”

“I have to brief the General,” he said as he walked to the door, “I was supposed to do that yesterday but he was busy with Julian. I think those two are planning something.”

You frowned, deep in thought.

“Tell Chloe I said hi!” you called out and he saluted you, then left your apartment. You pursed your lips and stood up, looking around.

“I should probably dust the place,” you mumbled to yourself, “Where the fuck do I get one of those feather dusters?”

***

Unfortunately, Tara needed you to cover her shift that day so you had to change plans. Normally you were supposed to meet Bucky for your date, but when Tara told you there was an emergency, you couldn’t say no to her.

Keeping yourself busy at work, even if it was just a cover, helped you to get your mind off the nervousness you were feeling about tonight.

You had never been this nervous before, which came as a shock for you. Bucky was just a target, and you knew better than anyone how to manipulate targets but—

You really, really wanted this. Regardless of it being a part of the mission or not.

So you had just finished with the inventory and closed the cash register when the wind bell chimed by the door and you turned your head, a big smile lighting up your face.

“Hi!” you rushed to throw yourself into Bucky’s arms and he caught you, lifting you a little to kiss you on the lips.

“Hi darling.”

“I’m almost done.”

“No worries, I can wait,” he said and you went behind the counter to hurriedly place the jars on the shelves so that when Tara came back tomorrow morning they would be all ready.

“Sorry about falling asleep last night,” you said, an image of you killing that HYDRA agent in front of Bucky flashing in your mind, “Did you stay up late?”

“Just a little,” he said and you bit down on a smile, he really wasn’t a good liar.

“Oh? What did you do after I went to sleep?”

He waved a hand in the air, as if looking for words, “Um—I—I was with Sam.”

“Sounds fun.”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

“Actually I went on a mission,” he said after a beat and you turned to him, raising your brows.

“A dangerous one?”

“Not really,” he said, “But I wanted you to know, because…”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t really know about the relationship rules so I figured honesty is the best way to go,” he said, making your heart skip a beat, “I think I accidentally flirted with someone last night.”

The words “No you didn’t.” were at the tip of your tongue but you managed to control yourself and tilted your head.

“…Oh,” you ended up saying, “With who?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Remember how I told you there was this spy I kept running into?”

You really needed to control your expression.

“Yeah?”

“I mean she flirted with me, I don’t actually think I flirted back but I wanted you to know just in case.”

You smiled slightly, “Bucky, it happens.”

He let out a relieved breath, “Okay,” he said, “Okay, good.”

“I mean as long as you don’t have a crush on her or anything.”

His hesitation lasted only for a second, maybe even less than that but it was there. Your heart skipped a beat and you frowned before he spoke.

“Of course not,” he said quickly, “Not at all, I don’t even know her.”

Was that possible? Could he be attracted to your real self as well as your cover?

Or maybe even more than your cover?

“Alright then,” you said with a smile, “I just don’t like competition.”

“There’s no competition, I promise,” he assured you and you shifted your weight, then placed the last jar on the shelf and turned to him.

“So then,” you said as you both left the shop and he threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Did you know she would be there?”

“I had no idea,” he said while you approached the motorcycle, “She ended up helping us but I don’t know what she’s playing at.”

“I think I have an idea what she’s playing at, if she flirted with you.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss on top of your head, then tilted your chin up.

“Darling….”

“What? I’m pretty sure flirting existed back in the 40s, and you know what it means.”

“What happened to it happens again?” he asked you with a grin and you shot him a look, then grabbed the helmet from him.

The road to your place was pretty short, especially with the way Bucky was riding his motorcycle. Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the building and you tried to ignore how excited you were, it—

It was finally happening.

Who were you kidding? This had nothing to do with the mission, you really, really wanted him. Your heart felt like it would break your ribcage and you took a deep breath, then got off the motorcycle and placed the helmet in its place.

“So,” you said as he got off the motorcycle as well, then pulled you closer, “Any plans for tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Any accidental meetings with hot spies?”

“Mmm, I don’t know any,” he taunted you, making you smile.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Oh totally. Besides, I’m happily going steady with the prettiest dame in the world, remember?”

You thought you would melt right then and there, and stepped closer to him before standing up on your tiptoes.

“Right answer,” you muttered after kissing him on the lips, and tugged him by the hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” you said, leading him into the building and he followed you as if he was hypnotized. You grinned when you got to your door, adrenaline rushing through you and you opened the door, then pulled him inside by the shirt, locking lips with him. He easily lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he kicked the door shut and you pulled back to giggle.

“Bedroom,” you pointed at the room at the end of the hall and he pulled you into a kiss, walking there, still carrying you. You let out a squeak when he dropped you to the bed but then sat up when the thought hit you.

“Oh God damn it—“ you pushed him slightly to get off the bed and he looked up at you as you stumbled to the drawer.

“Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” you grabbed the lingerie set from the drawer, then turned to him, “Just— close your eyes and don’t go anywhere, alright?”

“…Okay but are you sure—“

“I’ll be back in a second,” you said, running to the bathroom with the lingerie set clutched in your arms and you let out a breath, looking yourself in the mirror.

Even your eyes were shiny with excitement.

You shook your head at yourself and quickly shed your clothes to get into the lingerie set. You tilted your head, checking the garter belts and the corset, then pressed a hand over your chest to calm yourself down and walked out of the bathroom.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked with a smile as you got to the bedroom and he nodded, holding a hand over his eyes.

“Cross my heart.”

You let out a small laugh and pulled at your hand so that he could open his eyes. As soon as he did, he blinked up at you, his jaw slightly agape.

For a second, there was absolute silence in the room.

“Is this a good silence or a bad silence?” you asked, for the first time in your life you were insecure about how you looked half naked in front of a partner, “Because I’m—“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you squeal.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed out and you pulled him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

***

You had no idea why you woke up. In fact, considering how peaceful you felt, it was a wonder how you woke up in the middle of the night.

You could almost feel the warmth surrounding you as you leaned in to press a small kiss on his bare chest, then grabbed his shirt in the dark and put it on to walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Surprisingly he didn’t wake up, instead he mumbled something under his breath, his dog tags shining under dim light coming from outside.

You felt like you could lie there and just lose yourself in the bliss, and the mission— no, everything else could wait.

You pushed your hair behind your ear after putting your phone on the counter, then you went to the sink to fill yourself a glass of water, and finished it in three big gulps, a smile which was impossible to stop pulling at your lips.

No one, target or a boyfriend, had ever made you feel this way.

Maybe you could just tell him. After tonight, after absolute happiness, you could just tell him and maybe he would understand, maybe you two could have a future, maybe—

Your phone vibrated on the counter, interrupting your thoughts and you frowned slightly, then touched the screen to open the text.

From: Julian

We may have found something. Good thing you didn’t get too attached.

The smile was wiped off of your lips in a second and your stomach dropped as you stared at the text message.

“Fuck.”

Chapter 19

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine

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benditlikepress · 4 years ago

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one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #my fanfiction

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thesecrimsonstrings-if · 3 years ago

Note

This has been on my mind for a while now... what if someone shoots mc in the head? 👀 Do they drop dead and get up a moment later, do they drop dead and stay dead? Since technically their head wasn't cut off 🤔 Tis just a scratch, after all. What if someone shoots a bullet through their heart? Goes in one way, leaves the other so technically the healing should kick in?? Can they bleed out to death death? What if someone shoots MC BUT (!) the bullet stays in their body? Do they, uh... push it out? Or does someone need to take the bullet out "manually"?

Hmm 🤔 Much to think about 🤔 For you though, I'm going to bed. 'Night!

a bullet to the head won't kill the MC. it'll just be a tiny headache, which they can easily ignore, until their body automatically expels it out.

same goes for their heart. since the bullet isn't exactly a huge object which will stay embedded inside the heart, the MC's body will get rid of it with no problem!

in both cases, if the bullet comes out the other direction without the MC's body doing anything, it'll heal up pretty quick.

now here's a little snippet from a future chapter which includes a similar scene 👀

“S-stay back! I'm telling you, I won't hesitate to shoot!”

You roll your eyes as the mugger stumbles upon his own footing and keeps backing away into the alley.

“Look, sir, I merely asked you to get away from the old lady. Point that thing somewhere else.” You drawl, already bored with this whole charade. There was a blood bag at the penthouse already and you couldn't wait until you could sip on it and watch some Netflix.

“Just let me go, and we won't have any problem.” The man tries to look brave but the shaking of his legs and rapid beating of his heart gives away his nervousness.

“I'm afraid I can't do that,” you shrug, looking at your nails. “You can either come with me to the station willingly or we'll have to do it the hard way.”

The nerves around your brain tingle and you could sense the mugger pulling the trigger before the bullet even leaves the gun. Your index and middle finger immediately shoot up, stopping the bullet between them, inches from your forehead.

With a sigh, you flick it aside. The black around your sclera spreading and your iris fuming red, you stare straight at him.

“The hard way it is.”

#asks #snip goes the snippets #these crimson strings #ch: the vampire #yeah they're pretty OP #younger vampires won't die either #but their healing speed is very much slower than someone as old as the MC #bonnie nonnie #spoilers

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thebestofoneshots · 4 years ago

Text

Time variant 30578

Summary: You end up on the TVA after becoming a nexus event. Just before you get reset Mobius appears to recruit you into the team to catch Loki’s variant.

You’re not too happy about it.

Word Count: 3.3 K

Paring: Loki x Reader

Rating: T

Disclaimer: There is a rather graphic attempt of su*cide the beginning so reader’s discretion is advised. There’s also a lot of curse words, but it’s mostly all fun banter.

[Y/N’s apartment, 2076, Chicago]

You breathed in deeply, the rope around your neck was tight, the chair was flimsy enough under your feet. All you had to do was kick it. And it would all end. There and then. Simple and basic. You breathed in deeply and after a few minutes, you kicked it. The rope tightened. You could feel your body trying to itch for air. It couldn’t, gravity wouldn’t allow it. Instinctively your hands went around the rope and you felt as if your eyes were blowing out of their sockets, maybe the pills would have been a better idea.

Then a window-like thing appeared in front of you. People entered your room and one of them cut the rope that was stopping you from drawing any air in. You instantly dropped to the ground. Barely able to move, your neck hurt and so did your arms from the fall. A man from behind got really close to you and put a collar on your neck. You started to reincorporate and tried to take it off, it was useless.

“What the fuck?” You asked as you saw the men and women in their strange uniforms, with the logo “TVA” plastered all over them.

“Variant has been captured,” one of them said through some sort of communication device.

“Variant? Miss, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. This is private property. And if you didn’t notice. I was actually in the middle of something…”

A man from behind grabbed your arm tightly and started dragging you to the window-like thing. “What the hell?” You managed to say before being dragged into it.

[TVA OFFICES]

You looked around, the window portal thingy had taken you to what looked like an office. A friendly-looking man greeted the woman and the man that were holding you captive.

“Oh, so this is like some sort of weird right before death dream isn’t it?” You said out loud.

The woman raised her eyebrows. And dragged you to some elevator-like doors that closed after you were in them. There was a robot in front of you. With a creepy smile on his screen.

“So what? You’re going to give me a makeover?” You asked. In a few seconds, the robot burned off your clothes and left you but naked. Just as you were about to complain you fell down a trap door.

“Fuck,” you said as you stood up. “My butt hurts,” you said as you noticed you were now wearing clothes again. Now it was a jail-like uniform with the words TVA plastered on them.

“Please sign that this is everything you’ve ever said,” a bored-looking man said from behind a desk.

“No way you’ve recorded that,” you said. A page printed itself with those same words written on it.

“This one as well,”

You raised your eyebrows and signed the form. Then you fell again. This one was a different room, there was a metal-like detector in front of you.

“Please confirm that to your knowledge you’re not a fully robotic being were born as an organic creature and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.”

“Are you asking me if I’m a robot?”

The man didn’t even turn to look at you and repeated the exact same thing he’d said before.

You frowned and brought your arm to your mouth, biting it rather sharply. “Yup, flesh, and bones.”

“Thank you for confirming, move through”

You looked around and stepped through. The picture printed an image-like thing. “What's that?”

“An aura picture,” he responded not minding you crouching closer to him.

“What? Like the hippies?” You asked.

“Please step on that yellow chart on the floor.”

You reluctantly did as told, “I’m not gonna fall again, will I?” You asked. It was too late, invisible gates underneath opened and you ended up on a different floor again. “God damnit I’ve been falling for 30 minutes,” you complained as you rubbed your butt a bit, it was sore already after landing on it so many times. Who would’ve thought the first time your butt would be sore would be because of a weird place like this rather than something fun. As you stood up a man wearing the TVA uniform asked you to take a number.

You looked around suspiciously “is this hell?” You whispered to the man next to you.

“Please continue on the line.”

“Oh this is totally hell,” you concluded “it’s going to be an endless series of waiting in lines and then it’s just gonna go all over again, ain’t it? Like in that one TV show about hunting ghosts.”

“You might be thinking: this is hell…” you heard from the TV. A clock figurine that introduced herself as Miss Minutes started explaining everything to you. What was the TVA, that you were a nexus event or something? And that your timeline would be reset to preserve the “sacred timeline”. Which sounded like a fever dream. You were sure you hadn’t taken any weird pills before your incident in the morning, but hey, maybe someone did put something on your coffee. “Sacred timeline,” you thought “I’ve watched way too much Doctor Who, who’d think of something so ridiculous?”

“Your number, ” said the guy in front of you. You handed in your little paper and you were transported into a courtroom.

…

“So, how do you plead?”

“Wait a minute… you’re telling me, you, are the timekeepers or whatever and I was not supposed to kill myself which is why I’m here. But now you’re going to reset the side timeline that I accidentally created and in doing so you also have to reset me…”

“That’s correct,” said the judge woman.

“But by resetting me, your basically going to delate my version of me from existence. So, why didn’t you just let me die?”

“Side timelines need to be stopped as soon as possible. How do you plead? Innocent or guilty?”

“If I say guilty then I die?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that…”

“This version of me ceases to exist then.”

“Essentially yes.”

“Well then, I plead—“

“—Wait a minute…” a blonde guy said after storming in. “She might be useful.”

You turned around frowning “you’re interrupting my death sentence!”

“It’s not a death sentence…” the woman corrected, she then quickly turned to the man “what is it Mobius?”

“She’s a chaos expert. She studies catastrophes, we know them as apocalypses. She can be really useful on our current case.”

“Oh no, I’m super not useful, I plead guilty. GUL-TY.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to save you,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to be saved,” you whispered back.

He quickly ignored you and turned towards the judge woman again “as I was saying, she’ll be useful on this case. She’s an expert.”

“You’ve already interrupted Loki’s sentence, do you really think you can get away with interrupting hers?”

“Loki?” You asked, “New York Loki? ‘In the end, you will always kneel’ Loki? Man, he was a sensation back in the 10’s. Grandma used to tell me all about him and the battle of New York. I even took a side curse on all of his scheming on earth. Did you know he’s suspected to be B. D. Cooper?”

“As I was saying, she’s very knowledgeable on Loki AND in history…”

“Oh no, I know nothing, I’m basically useless…” you responded.

“Right, but when Loki destroyed New York in 2014—“

“—That was on 2012 tho,” you replied instinctively to later realized you’d contradicted what you said first.

“That proves my point. She’ll be perfect for this case.”

“No, she won’t.” You argued.

“She’ll work alongside Loki to catch his variant.”

“Alongside who did you say?”

The judge woman seemed to think about it for a minute. “Fine. But it’s the last time you burst into one of my trials Mobius, I’m not joking around.”

He nodded. “Please follow me, Miss (Y/N),” he said before waiting to walk out of the courtroom.

“Does this mean I won’t get rested?” You asked.

“Not for now,” the woman responded.

“Well fine then. All I wanted to do today was die but now I’m going to be a time traveler that solves time crimes to preserve the holly timeline. What a long Wednesday…”

“It’s sacred timeline,” Mobius corrected.

“What?” You shrugged.

“It’s sacred timeline, not holly timeline.”

“Right.”

The two of you walked in silence through a series of corridors that looked like an office from the late 20th century but weirdly space-y until you arrived at what looked like a file room. You looked around. And saw him sitting on one of the tables with a bunch of papers on top. He looks exactly the same as in the old videos you thought. Maybe a little less regal?

“(Y/N), this is Loki. Loki this is (Y/N). She’ll be helping us with the case.”

“We don’t need a…” he seemed to struggle with what to define you as “…mortal’s help.”

“See?! Can I go back to being eliminated now?” You asked.

Loki raised an eyebrow. So this girl wants to be reset. He thought.

“Reset,” Mobius corrected. “And no, she’s an expert Chaos Historian. She knows it all about apocalypses.”

“Right… if you really think she’ll be useful, I guess she can try to solve this.”

“He really is like in the videos,” you whispered to Mobius. “This is pretty exciting you know. As a historian I mean. It’s like meeting Hitler or something.”

“Are you comparing me to a racist dictator?” Loki asked clearly annoyed.

“Well, your whole ‘you were made to be ruled’ speech is kinda dictator-y,” you argued.

“That’s utter nonsense. Humankind is inferior as a whole, not some more than others.”

“Oh, so you’re racist just towards humankind. Aren’t we like a race as a whole? Like an alien race or something for you Asgardians?”

“But we’re gods,” Loki argued.

“Well, that certainly sounds something a supremacist would say. Especially one like Adolf,” you shrugged.

“I am NOT like him,” Loki said as he stood up.

“All right kiddos, it’s time to cool down and focus on the task at hand…”

“But she called me Hitler,” Loki complained.

“Well I’m sorry, but it’s kinda true,” you retorted.

“Do you want to get killed?” He threatened standing up to overpower you with his tallness.

“As a matter of fact. I kinda do,” you replied.

“All right. Nobody’s killing anybody at the moment. (Y/N), we need your knowledge. You’ll be doing a favour to humanity. Wouldn’t you like to do something great before being reset?”

You frowned “I guess going out on a blaze of glory is better than with a rope around my neck…”

Loki coed his head. You were certainly something different from what he expected mortals to be like.

“Great!” Mobius replied. “That’s exactly the kind of energy we want! Now (Y/N). We need to find an apocalyptic event, that happened from 2047 to 2051.

“Hey! I was born in 2051!” You responded excitedly. But curiosity got you right after “Wait. Why those dates?”

“That’s when kablooie was sold.” Answered Mobius, as if it made total sense.

“Aha…” you responded.

“It’s an unintentional clue that the variant left.”

“How do you know it was unintentional?”

“They left it there just to mess with the timeline, they didn’t know it’d be a way to find them.”

“Right!” You nodded. Would Loki really be so careless? You thought. “All right then,” you started reciting all the events you recalled from the top of your head “we’ll there’s the climate disaster of 2048, the Tsunami on 2051 (357 people dead), the eruption of the Krakatoa on the 49 (as bad Pompeii), there’s the flood of New York in the 46, the pandemic of the Coronavirus variant on 51. The Alabama storm in 2050, the meteorite in—“

“Wait what did you just say?” Loki stopped you.

“The meteorite in Argentina in 2047?”

“Before that.”

“The Alabama storm, where the whole was destroyed. 107 people dead.”

“That’s the one! It was a store, right?” Loki asked checking the files.

“Yes! Roxxcart.”

Loki nodded.

“Of course! Roxxcart must have carried kablooie!” You answered excitedly.

“The two of you will steal my job if I’m not careful,” said Mobius. “I’ll be back, rest and be ready,” he said before walking out of the library.

You looked around and then leaned towards Loki. “So tell me Loki, is it true that you were also being controlled by the mind gem?”

“I beg your pardon?” He asked seemingly annoyed.

“Well, there’s this, rather underground theory that says that you were being controlled by the mind stone, by Thanos. That when you got the scepter it was somewhat manipulating and it forced you or at least inclined you to do all that stuff in 2012. See most of the records say you have green eyes. And your eyes do tend to be more green-y in pictures and paintings prior to 2012. But in 2012 they were very blue, almost the color of the people that you enchanted with the scepter.” You leaned in even closer “Even right now, they’re more green than blue.”

He seemed to think about it for a second. He sure was above the abilities of the stones to alter people's feelings, right? He was a God after all. But then again, he was curious since he had not been inclined to conquer earth beforehand. Had he been manipulated? Him? The realization hit him, and it showed on his face, which he quickly changed for a more relaxed one “That’s utter nonsense.”

You looked at him closely and then laughed, reclining back to your chair “you’d think the God of Lies would be better at lying.”

“I will stab you.”

“With this thing around my neck,” you said moving the time necklace thingy around. The rope had chaffed your neck and the material of the necklace only made it more painful “you’d be doing me a favour.”

“I can ask Mobius to take it off. They took mine off when I became their assessor”.

You raised your eyebrows “oh, so he’s influential then.”

“I’m always influential darling.”

“How did you end up here?” You asked curiously.

“I stole the tesseract after the avengers messed with time travel, in 2012.”

“Oh… so you don’t know…” you said thinking of his future.

“I do.” He responded coldly.

“I’m sorry…” you added.

“Me too… what about you?”

“Oh… I tried to kill myself and the TVA didn’t like it.”

“That explains your careless attitude, and lack of fear towards me.”

“I wouldn’t fear you, even if I wasn’t suicidal, Loki. I mean yes, you destroyed half New York and created chaos all around. But to me, you come off as somebody I could reason with, I don’t fear reasonable people. You can always change their mind.”

“You think a mere mortal could change my mind?”

“I’ve done it twice already, Loki.”

“What?”

“You despised me at the beginning, you thought of me as inferior, that I would only be a nuisance. But, I’ve earned some of your respect, especially now that you realized I’m not full of bullshit whenever I talk. And the second time was when told you about the theory. You considered what I said, you’re doubtful now, even if you’ll never admit it.”

He stared deep into your eyes as if trying to gather information from them. This talked remind him of the time Mobius accused him of enjoying hurting people. He didn’t like it. Humans were not supposed to be this wise. Especially young ones.

“Do I have something in my face?” You joked, trying to make him uncomfortable.

He leaned back and smirked “I’ll never tell you.”

You frowned and tried really hard not to bring your hands to your face. You knew he was trying to trick you. And yet, what if you had some weird blood-sucking space mosquito on your forehead?

By then Mobius had come in again, “Pack you bag kiddos, we’re going to the ’50s.”

“Time travel! How fun!” You nodded and walked alongside Mobius. Then you whispered, “hey Mobius! Do I have something in my face?”.

Loki repressed a laugh from the back. He still had the touch.

[Roxxcart Store, Alabama, 2050]

“The variants stay with me,” said Hunter B-15. You grabbed your neck, the ghost of the time collar still annoying you. Even if Mobius had actually been kind enough to take it off.

After being separated from the rest, Hunter B-15 was possessed by the variant.

“Didn’t know you had mind control,” you whispered to Loki.

He just gave you a look without responding. “I’m, just gonna let you to talk things out…” you said giving a few steps back and maintaining a reasonable distance in case things got violent. Which had been wise since just a few minutes after the two Lokis, evil variant with a different body now, started throwing things at each other. You stood mostly behind your Loki. While you knew he really wouldn’t make an effort to stop you from being killed (which was now an issue to you for some reason), it felt safer than the possessed variant Loki.

At some point, a flying computer was crossfired and it was directed straight towards your face. You started contemplating how miserable your death would seem when another thing, whatever it was, stopped it from hitting your face by hitting it on the side and causing it to change course. You turned towards Loki, your eyes locked with each other. “Did you just?”

He shrugged and continue his fight. “If you had any honour, you’d fight me yourself.” He said as the big guy choked him.

“I’ve got shit to do,” responded the man posses by the other Loki and threw Loki Loki towards a bunch of toys.

The big guy looked at you threateningly and smiled when he realised you wouldn’t be a threat. This Loki doesn’t seem so reasonable, you thought. He went back to his task and you ran towards Loki.

“You all right?” You asked as he stared at the ceiling.

He was tempted to respond ‘why do you care?’ But instead nodded. “Go get ‘em,” you said and extended your hand to help him up. Which he reluctantly took.

He walked towards the big guy and he turned with a smile “brace yourself…” he said before collapsing down. A hidden figure appeared. They took off the hood and revealed themselves to be a female.

It makes sense, you thought. He’s a shapeshifter.

“This isn’t about you, Loki,” she said before grabbing a small square and opening one of those time portals. She walked and disappeared in it.

Mobius was already getting to where you were. “Loki! (Y/N)! Wait!”

You looked at Mobius. And then at the portal. “I don’t want to be reset anymore,” You whispered.

Loki frowned.

“I want to live,” you nodded and after looking at Mobius one last time, you followed the female Loki through the portal.

“Loki wait!” Mobius screamed as he ran towards him. Loki looked towards them, hearing him scream over and over the same words.

I want to live as well, he thought before following you through the portal that closed right after him.

“Damn it,” said Mobius as he contemplated the empty space that been left behind.

Read Part 2 here

I may turn this one into a weekly series, that follows the events of the Loki tv show. If you’d be interested in something like this leave a like or a comment. If you want to be tagged, leave a comment saying you want to be tagged.

And if you have any opinions, you can also leave a comment.

Find more Loki shots here

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coexiising · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight Love - Anakin Skywalker

REQUEST ◆ can i request a little something where anakin comes back from a long mission after there were rumors that he was dead, so the reader is super relieved and impatiently waiting to be alone with him? basically fluff where she could take care of his wounds and maybe some passionate sex

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, mentions of death, cursing

WORDS ◆ 3.1k

NOTE ◆ im sick but i got the sudden urge to finish this request so!! thank you for requesting!!

If someone was to ask you what love was a year ago, you would insist that you had no idea and tell them to ask someone else. But in the coming months, even in the throws of Civil War raging throughout the entire Galaxy left and right — You had found love. And maybe it wasn’t perfect and not like the fairytales that you used to read when you were a young child but it was yours, and that was all that mattered in the long run. You were in love and so happy.

But right now, all you were was nervous. You had been for almost a week since hearing the news that a rather intense battle had broken out in the Outer Rim, where Anakin Skywalker, the man you were in love with, had been stationed for almost a month now. You were scared and wracked with anxiety of the possibility of something happening to him. You stayed up late at night and tried to calm yourself down, but it was to no use. There was no way of contacting him during the middle of a mission and the only thing you could slightly rely on was the news, which sometimes wasn’t entirely factual.

And then the rumors started.

You weren’t one to rely on the news of gossip or others, though this talk had been spoken about within a rather influential group of politicians, about how The Hero With No Fear was dead. You didn’t want to believe it, it couldn’t be true. Anakin, your Anakin, couldn’t be dead. So you vowed from that day forward that you would only think of him as alive, not going to engage in any conversation until you were sure of his true outcome.

And another rumor spread that the 501st was coming back to Coruscant and again, you tried to ignore it, trying not to get your hopes up on false promises. Still though, you checked your comms where Anakin always contacted you when he was within range, and checked, and checked, and checked until it was becoming somewhat of an addiction. There was no call.

It is now marked two months since you’ve seen Anakin, the days dragging long and boring and the nights cold and lonely. You missed him so much that it was hard to breathe, feeling as though another half of you had been thrown into the wind never to be seen again. He had a job in the Republic and you understood that completely, but it didn’t stop you from wishing that things were different, that you could be together with him without anything pulling you away from one another or that you could just be with him in public in a romantic way rather than platonic.

Your feet took you across the Jedi Temple building, tasked with giving some papers to Senator Padmé Amidala who was briefing with the Council about security in the Senate. The sun shined through the tall windows as you walked, illuminating the pathway and red carpets. You made your way up the steps and that’s when you stopped dead in your tracks.

You weren’t sure if you were making things up in your mind, if you missed Anakin so much that your mind was playing tricks on you. But at the end of the hall you could swear that was Anakin, walking with . . . That was Ahsoka. So that had to be —

“Anakin,” You spoke out loud, low like a whisper to yourself. It was Anakin, standing at the other end of the hall. You felt your balance go out for a moment and you were almost sent toppling down the stairs until you caught yourself. Your heart rate picked up and it took everything in you not to run up into his arms, knowing that you were all being watched in the Temple and there was no way to have alone time with him no matter how much you wanted to.

You walked at a faster pace now, coming within range of his eyesight and Anakin’s features immediately softened upon looking at you, a small smile making its way onto his face that you reciprocated, hoping to not gain the attention from his Padawan learner. When finally, finally you were only a foot in front of him, you felt at ease again. Anakin was alright, he didn’t die or get gravely injured like the news always made things out to be. He was here and although you could see cuts and bruises on his face that have seemingly gotten uncared for yet, you were more relieved than you had ever felt in your life. It had been too long without him, you supposed, too long without his touch or his love.

Ahsoka was the first to speak up. “Hi, Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Her tone was happy, which led you to believe that whatever they did in the Outer Rim turned out successful. You loved Ahsoka, but right now you wished that it was just you and Anakin.

“Just getting Senator Amidala some papers, Ahsoka, how was your mission?” You asked, eyes darting from her to Anakin, who looked at you with soft, longing eyes.

“It was . . . Stressful. But Master Skywalker led the whole 501st by himself!” Ahsoka exclaimed, giving her Master a grin. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the fearless leader and how passionate he was about helping the Republic. How he was yours, all yours and he loved you just as much, if not more, than you did him.

A few more words were exchanged before Anakin said, “Why don’t you go get some rest, Ahsoka. You deserve it.” It seemed as though Ahsoka didn’t need to be told twice, the girl saying a quick goodbye and walking off in the other direction. Now it was you and Anakin in the hallway, looking into each other's eyes as if you were both having a silent conversation between one another without any movement. You weren’t sure what to say, actions spoke louder than words anyways and all you wanted was to be near him, be in his arms so that the fist of anxiety clenching your heart was finally gone.

He had a small smile on his face that made your heart warm, one that you reciprocated and looked around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping. In the Temple you were never really sure how far your talking would go, if others could hear the whispers spoken between you two from other hallways. There was no one there, thankfully.

“I’m sorry I-”

“When will-”

You two spoke at the same time, making a laugh erupt from the both of you. You took a moment to admire him, thinking about how much you missed the little things about him like his laugh. “You go first,” You told him.

Anakin nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming back. I wanted to make it somewhat of a surprise but then you were here and . . .” He trailed off. You shook your head and flashed a smile, signalling that all was fine. You found it endearing that he was planning on surprising you, it seemed as though you were on his mind the whole time as much as he was on yours.

“It’s okay,” You said. “When will you be able to stop by my apartment?” That is where you usually stayed when he was on Coruscant and he could get away, since it was way easier having Anakin sneak out of the Temple there instead of him sneaking you into the Temple. You had to admit that now that you knew he was here, your anxiousness got worse, wanting him all to yourself as quickly as possible.

“I still have to report to the Council. Then I’m all yours. An hour?”

“It’s a date.”

The waiting was excruciating even though it was only an hour. It was almost as if waiting for an extra sixty minutes was worse than the extended time you had just been away from him. Perhaps it was because you knew that he was here, alive and well, and wanted to see you just as badly as you wanted to see him. You tried passing the time looking through the holonet, and then deciding to take a quick shower to wash off anything from today.

Opening your drawer and putting on the last of your outfit, some black lounge sweatpants, you heard a knock on the front door of your apartment and your heart practically leapt out of your chest. You needed to remember to give Anakin a key sometime soon, knowing that this wasn’t going to be the last time he came over and he almost practically lived here whenever he was on Coruscant. You walked and opened the door, being met with Anakin’s smiling face and big, strong arms wrapping around your frame, walking both of you backwards as his foot kicked the door behind him closed.

You leaned into his touch, memorizing all that you could from this moment for later. His soft, plush curly hair brushing against your cheek, the smell of fresh breeze and some type of floral scent that was most likely his body wash. It was so inherently Anakin and you were surrounded by it, you loved it. You loved him.

“I missed you so much,” He spoke first, pulling away to make eye contact. His blue eyes looked down at you and you couldn’t help but lean up and press a small kiss to his lips, the smile on your face growing wider as you pulled away. Your eyes scanned his face, taking note of a few cuts and bruises that littered it, almost causing you to frown.

Your hand came up and brushed against one, it seemed freshly afflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what the mission he had gone through was about, he would most likely tell you later when both of you got settled. “I missed you too, Ani,” You said. “Do you want me to look at this cut?” It wasn’t as though you were a medic by any means, but basic first aid wasn’t that hard and all you really needed to do was clean it and any others he let you look at.

He didn’t respond with words, only nodding and allowing you to grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom. Your kit was in the bathroom connected to it, quickly grabbing the small white box and sitting down on the bed next to him, getting to work.

“What happened while you were away?” You asked, making conversation as you got the materials out of the box. “These cuts look recent.”

Anakin shrugged his large shoulders, a usual response when you asked about his injuries whenever he came home. This wasn’t new behavior, he always seemed like he was as tough as nails, but it didn’t take much to see that he was tired and glad to be home. The home that was your arms.

As usual, the two of you exchanged some small talk while you tended to his wounds, rubbing the cloth with the antiseptic and covering up the ones along his arms that needed bandages. Bacta worked best for the bruises, covering them up with the oil that would have them healed in as fast as a day or two. Once everything had been looked at, you put the materials back into the box and placed it on the nightstand next to your bed, reaching over to Anakin to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He came to lay down and pulled you close to him, both of you sitting in the silence for a moment.

“There were so many rumors that you had gotten into too much trouble on your mission. Some people were even saying that you were dead,” You muttered, a small, tiny bit of concern lacing your words. Anakin could feel your worry through the Force and in response, held you even tighter against him. “I didn’t want to believe them, but then you were gone longer than normal and I don’t know. . . I just get so scared sometimes with your line of work.”

Anakin sighed. “There was a setback in the mission and we needed to take caution so that we wouldn’t lose many people. But it’s alright, I’m here with you now. You know that I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know, Ani.”

You turned to face him, the covers shifting comfortably under you. You pressed your lips against his again, relishing in the feeling of having him back all to yourself. You wished that you could keep him here forever, in your large apartment away from the judgement of society: The Senate that expected you to stay away from scandal, and the Jedi Order that prevented Anakin from having any attachment whatsoever. It was a hard world out there, but you were grateful that you were with Anakin through it, you couldn’t imagine being with another person.

Sensing a bit of urgency in your kisses to get as much of him as you possibly could, Anakin responded with the same passion, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek and the gloved one coming to push himself on top of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and trapped him against you while the two of you kissed. Your hands reached for his hair and tugged, spurring him forward and biting your bottom lip with a groan.

He detached his lips from your own and instead began kissing along your jawline, stopping for a second to inhale the scent of yours that he missed more than anything. And then he started again, kissing all the way down your neck and deciding to leave a tiny mark on a part of your collarbone that would be somewhat easier to conceal. It was rare that he did leave the marks this high up, but in this urgency he couldn’t seem to control himself all that much. You wined out, pushing your hips forward and meeting his own.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” He muttered in between kisses against your neck, hand moving down and coming to the edge of your work blouse, working to get it off of you as fast as he could but stopping for a moment to make sure that you wanted to go farther. You fervently nodded, helping him in taking your shirt off and throwing it down onto the ground near your bed. Quickly, you did the same thing with his shirt, untucking it from his pants and the moment it was off you ran your hands along his torso, marveling in the fine edges of his body. “All I could think was coming back to you and now that I’m finally here I’m blown away by how beautiful you are.” His words made you blush, as well as send a shock downward towards your core.

You needed him, you simply couldn’t wait anymore. You had waited for too long and you weren’t in the business of stopping any time soon and it was clear that he felt the same way. While you were waiting for him to come home, it wasn’t too apparent how much you truly missed him because after a while you found some other ways to occupy yourself. But now that he was here, all those feelings of want were coming back to you and you couldn’t help but start to speed up the process.

“Anakin, please, I need you now. I can’t wait anymore,” You whispered to him, loving the way that his lips felt while they kissed every single inch of your chest. You wanted to slow down and at the same time wanted to speed up, it was an odd feeling. But there would be more moments for the both of you to take it slow, now you just wanted to satiate the feeling that was growing rapidly in your core. He laughed at this, coming to meet your eyes with his own as they had a hint of teasing behind them. You gave him a small smile, but your eyes were glossed over with a type of lust and wanting that you were sure he could tell that you were serious.

In a matter of mere seconds, both of your pants and undergarments were off and he was getting into a more comfortable position on top of you, and you were spreading your legs open and just waiting for him. Anakin took one look down between your legs and muttered some type of curse in Huttese that you couldn’t understand and before you spoke to ask, he was pushing into you.

It felt like bliss.

The moment you adjusted to him and your walls relaxed, he began moving, slowly out and then plunging back into you with intensity. He continued that motion a few times, each making you moan out his name and flying your hands back into his hair, tugging on the golden, curled locks. You moaned out and it was louder than you were expecting, but it seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear because he started going faster. You could hear the wet sloshing between the two of you and it only made you closer to that peak and the fire within you was almost raging.

Anakin kept kissing your neck until he went up and started kissing your lips. It was a sloppy kiss, all of his concentration was bent on making you feel good but you appreciated it, since you could feel all the love that he was giving you. You matched his pace, lifting up your hips to meet his when they came down and he hit at an even more deeper angle, both of you gasping into one another's mouths.

“Anakin, I’m going to-”

“Me too.”

Your orgasm snuck up on you and placed itself right onto your core, and with one more thrust you felt yourself release and your eyes rolled back into your head. For a moment it felt like you weren’t on Coruscant and you had flown up into the sky, that was how good it felt to be with him again. When you came back to reality, with a roll of your hips, Anakin was right behind you, releasing inside of you. Both of you stirred and he laid down on top of you, breathing heavily to try and catch his breath. Your hands rubbed up and down his back, fingers tracing inconsistent patterns along his skin.

A few more moments passed by and Anakin rose his head up, pressing a small kiss to your nose that made you smile. He also smiled, nuzzling into your neck.

“The second I catch my breath, we should go again.”

It was good to be back.

#Anakin Skywalker #clone wars anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars smut #anakin x you

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kohanayaki · 3 years ago

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 7

Severus looks back on everything that went wrong.

tw: non-consensual kissing/harassment, trauma responses

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 7 .:Things Unforgivable and Things Left Unsaid:.

Graduation day at Hogwarts was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure for you. Instead, it marked the day you decided that whatever it was between you and Severus Snape, friendship or otherwise, it was over.

Or at least that's what you had thought. Of course, the universe just loved making things more complicated for you. You were working with Charlie in Romania when you had gotten word that Severus defected from the death eaters and was now working as a double agent at Dumbledore's behest. He continued teaching Potions at Hogwarts, and was even indited as a member of the Order. If anything, that only solidified your decision to go to America instead of staying in London. You didn't even know what to think. Of course you trusted Dumbledore, confusing as the man was, but you didn't know if you could really trust Snape again. You had worked towards forgiving him; over time you moved past what happened, but it was difficult to really say it was 'resolved' when you quite literally haven't spoken a word to each other in over a decade. You didn't even know where to start.

For the entirety of your seventh year, you didn't speak a word to Severus. It was hard to imagine that such a tight knit trio like the one you, him, and Lily had formed could crumble in an instant, but that's exactly what happened.

The end of your sixth year at Hogwarts was a quarter Snape would never forget, no matter how hard he tried. It was when everything fell apart. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1976 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James!” you yelled, running to the top of the hill where he and the rest of the Marauders had Snape held upside down.

“What are you doing?” you said, immensely hurt and trying to keep your voice steady, “You said this would stop, you promised. . . you swore.”

“(Y/n), I. . .” James trailed off, immediately feeling guilty. As he turned to you Snape dropped to the ground, attempting to scramble to his feet but finding his ankle twisted.

Sirius moved towards you to say something but you put your hand up firmly.

“No,” you said, “not a word out of you, Black.”

Sirius stared at you, wide-eyed, shrinking back as you called him by his last name for the first time in a long while. Not Sirius, not Pads. Black. As if your whole friendship had just been reset.

“And you two,” you said, addressing Remus and Peter, “how could you let this happen?!”

All four boys looked at you in shame, none of them daring to verbally respond.

Suddenly, Lily came running up the hill, having fallen behind you in your quick pace.

“Severus!” she panted, rushing over to him, “are you alright?”

Snape was in an angered daze, not even registering the words being said around him. The blood rushing through his veins felt like lava, his heart pounding in his ears, his chest, his tongue. His face burned with humiliation and hatred. Pure fucking hatred for James Fleamont Potter. For Lily to see him like that. . . for you to see him like that, pathetic, helpless, in need of your help once again. He wouldn't have it. He was a master of the dark arts now, he didn't have to fucking take this. He would curse Potter into the next century, he would—

“Severus!”

Snape's eyes snapped open, not even realizing they were closed. The world came rushing in around him and he was suddenly acutely aware of Lily's hand on his arm. He reeled back at her touch as if he'd been burned.

“Don't touch me!” he screeched, startling the redheaded girl. Her eyes were filled with concern, but all Snape could see was pity.

“Sev—“

“I don't need any help from you, you filthy Mudblood!”

And everyone in the clearing stilled.

The color drained from Snape's already pale face as he realized what he'd just said.

“Lily. . .” Severus whispered; pleading, desperate.

“Don't come any closer,” Lily said, her voice stone cold as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I'll kill you,” James said lowly.

“Prongs, no—”

“I'll kill you, you slimy bastard!” James growled, Remus moving quickly to hold him back.

You stood in the middle of it all, staring at Severus. Severus, who'd always told Lily that blood status didn't matter. Severus, who you and Lily always stood up for no matter what. Severus, who you thought you had feelings for up until this exact moment.

Without even thinking you stepped forward, grabbing Lily's hand.

“Let's go, Lils,” you said, your expression unreadable as you looked down at Severus. Lily squeezed your hand back gratefully, fighting the sobs racking her chest as she turned around and took off with you.

“(Y/n), wait—” Snape tried to get up but found himself shoved back down to the ground by Sirius.

“No,” he said sharply, “you don't get to say anything to either of them, you hear me?”

“I—”

“What?” James spat, “you're sorry? Well sorry doesn't cut it! You say a word to her after what you called her and you'll wish you'd never have been born.”

Snape's head hung low, that wish already present in his mind.

“Leave him,” Remus said, this time not out of mercy, but malice; letting Snape wallow in his own misery as he left with his friends, looking for you and Lily.

Soon, Severus was left alone. Just as he began, and just as he should have never hoped for anything different. Was this it? That's how it was going to end? One mistake, and the only two people he'd ever cared about were ripped away from him.

No. He decided he had to apologize properly, consequences be damned. If those Marauders wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp afterwards, that was fine by him. He just needed to talk to Lily one more time. To tell her how deeply sorry he really was.

He took off down the hill, sprinting towards the castle and completely ignoring the burning pain in his ankle. He rushed through the grass, ignoring the looks he received from the other students walking by. He ran past the oak tree, through the castle gates, flying through the corridors and cutting across the courtyard when he skid to a stop at what he saw.

Lily and James stood in the center of the garden, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as his lips captured hers. Her eyes were still wet with tears, the tears that he had caused. Severus didn't do a thing. His presence remained unknown to them as he slunk away back to his common room, heart silently breaking.

He was too late.

Nothing was the same after that.

Lily insisted that if you wanted to remain friends with Snape, as she now referred to him, she wouldn't hold it against you, but she made it very clear that she would never forgive him herself. But it wasn't as easy as wanting to stay friends with him or not; he'd changed that day.

After some time to let things settle down you tried to approach him, but he only became more and more hostile towards everyone, including you. You hardly saw him anymore. The only time you occasionally spotted him was when he was walking around school with Malfoy, Mulciber, Wilkes, and Avery, unable to look you in the eye lest you see the utterly crushed expression on your face as he fell deeper and deeper into the dark side.

You held your books tightly to your chest as you made your way to Hagrid's hut for one of your last Care of Magical Creatures class. You were being paired up with a few lower classmen to teach them the ropes for feeding all the creatures Hagrid kept in the meadows. You were a tad late, having been preoccupied at lunch, speedwalking to try and arrive on time when you saw a flash of silver-blue light emit from inside the forest. You could hear warbled shouting and laughter coming from the same direction, and your instincts told you to run.

However, because your nerves were on high alert, that also told you someone in there was in danger, and you couldn't just walk away from that. You drew your wand, abandoning your books by a rockface and moving towards the commotion, the distorted shouting soon becoming words.

“Oh come on, you little runts, you lot can do better than that!” you recognized Mulciber's voice.

A young girl shrieked as a giant acromantula barred its fangs at her, its front legs raised and poised to attack. Her friends were huddled in a corner, more students who couldn't have been older than second or third years, being forced to watch by Avery and Wilkes.

“How's this for Care of Magical Creatures, eh?” Mulciber taunted as he walked over to the other students, pulling a young boy out from the group.

“No!” the girl cornered by the spider cried, “please, don't!”

“Aw, how cute,” Mulciber drawled, “is this your little boyfriend, huh? Shame.”

The boy screamed in fear as he was suddenly lifted into the air by his ankles, forced to hover right above the spider just out of its reach. You wanted to wretch as you watched the scene unfold, unable to keep yourself hidden any longer.

You leaped into the clearing, a quick flick of your wrist relieving Mulciber of his wand. You did the same to Wilkes as he turned to you.

“Well well, why am I not surprised?” Avery scoffed. Right behind him stood Severus, his expression vacant.

“Grab this, and get to Professor McGonagall immediately,” you shouted to the younger Gryffindor students, tossing them a gold galleon. As soon as they touched the coin, the portkey shot them all back to the castle.

“Why are you always the one spoiling our fun?” Mulciber sneered.

“Someone's gotta do it,” you said, putting up a brave front although you were under no illusion as to your situation. You weren't fourth years anymore, and you were alone this time. They'd been studying the dark arts for the past two years. You knew you were outmatched, even with your dueling skills.

“Oh, come on, (Y/n), don't be a bore.”

You turned around at the sound of the familiar voice to see Rosier, an easy grin set into his face. Your heart dropped.

“So you too, huh?” you chuckled bitterly, “and here I thought you were one of the few good ones left.”

“You're not really that naive, are you?” he tutted, “you had to have known I would be inducted eventually. Might even get Barty to join us, even if he is a little nutty.”

You went for a stunning spell but found your wand spinning out of your hand before you even saw him move.

“Not so fun to be on the receiving end, is it?” Rosier said, “you're not the only one versed in non-verbal magic, (Y/n). In fact, I'd even go so far as to say we've surpassed you. Lucius will be furious, but I like you a lot, so I'll re-extend his old offer for him. Join us.”

You had no wand, no backup, no way out of this, but you stood your ground nonetheless.

“Eat shit,” you seethed. Rosier glowered at you, taking a few menacing steps forward. He grabbed your jaw firmly and you grit your teeth.

“I don’t think you heard me—”

He reeled back as you spit right in his face,

“You bitch,” he growled, wiping his face in disgust, “clearly no one ever bothered to train you.”

Without your wand you were really only left with one option, ready to defend yourself by revealing your animagus form, but you never got to take the first step forward.

“Imperio!”

You stopped in your tracks as a veil of what could only be described as pink fluff drifted over your mind. A smile immediately appeared on your face, and a giggle rose in your throat.

Severus looked at Rosier with horror, the rest of his crew looking among themselves uneasily.

“What do you think you're doing?” Snape hissed, “are you trying to get us all expelled?”

“So what?” Rosier said, “we've used the killing curse loads of times.”

“On insects, you loon,” Snape shot back, hoping his concern for you was masked enough.

“Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt your precious (Y/n), Sev.”

The nickname made his stomach churn. You used to call him that. Lily used to call him that. No one else did. No one else got to.

“Release them,” he said, raising his wand, “now.”

“Put that away,” Rosier's eyes narrowed, a smirk sliding back onto his face as he got an idea, “hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yes?” you answered, your voice dripping with honey.

“I don't think Severus likes you being under this spell,” Rosier said, “but you like it don't you?”

“Mmm hmm,” you nodded, your head feeling like it was floating, “it feels so nice.”

“You know what else would feel nice?” Rosier goaded, “if you gave our friend Sev here a kiss.”

Severus' heart dropped to his stomach.

“You're sick, Rosier,” Snape said, his voice close to tremmoring.

“You don't have to act like you don't want it,” Evan chuckled, “we've watched you putz around (L/n) like a fool for years. Besides, they want to. Isn't that right, (Y/n)?”

“He's right,” you said, your voice deceptively melodic, “I love you, Severus. I've always loved you.”

And in that moment, Snape had never hated himself more. Because he didn't care that Rosier was making you say the things you did. He didn't care that you were under the influence of a curse. All he could hear was the words he longed to hear spill from your lips, over and over like a skipping record.

I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus.

He played the words on repeat in his head. His heart was beating almost painfully in his chest, so much so that he hardly even noticed you slowly walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck like Lily had done to James. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, his selfish desires held him in place.

It had lasted a fraction of a second, but he didn't pull away. It was the greatest regret of his life that he didn't walk up to Rosier, break his nose, and curse every single person in that clearing instead of doing nothing, knowing full well you had no control over your actions.

When his eyes drifted open and met yours and his stomach twisted into ugly knots, fear and panic wracking through his spine. Your eyes were completely empty, irises a vacant white, and in that moment it felt as if he were kissing a corpse.

Suddenly the color returned to your eyes, and fear immediately filled them. Snape grunted as he was shot away from you, unable to move when he hit the ground. The other Slytherins looked around for the assailant, but they had no time to react when every single one of their wands was pulled from their hands. McGonagall stood there, expression the same as ever but clearly brimming with fury.

“(L/n), come,” she said, ushering you over and taking you protectively in her embrace, “we'll get you to Madame Pomfrey.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she regarded Snape and the rest of their group, “As for you,” she said, “Mr Filch, secure them in the dungeons until the Headmaster calls for them. And put all of their wands in the lockbox.”

“With pleasure,” Filch said, almost blending in with the trees behind her.

“Are you alright?” McGonagall asked you as she helped you back towards the castle.

“No,” you said, honestly, “n-no, I don't think I am.”

“No amount of apology could ever equate to the remorse I feel that this happened to you, (L/n),” she said earnestly, “I am truly sorry. This was completely unacceptable, and I will see to it that the proper measures are taken for their punishments. Expulsion would suit just fine, but even if the Headmaster disagrees, I will personally ensure you never come into contact with any of those boys again.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice sounding hollow in your own ears.

You didn't remember walking the near half-mile to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey's words felt so far away, as if she were speaking underwater. You just remembered laying down in the hospital wing bed as she checked you for any lasting damage, and as soon as she'd turned her back you'd just wept.

________________________________________________________

That night, Snape found himself in the Prefect's bathroom, leaned over the sink and watching the water rush into the drain. His hands clutched the marble sides of the basin so hard his knuckles turned white, every breath catching painfully in his chest before he forced it out to take another shaky inhale. He was an idiot, he knew. There was no fixing this. Not really. First Lily, now you. Was he just predestined to lose everyone in his life?

He paused. No, he didn't deserve to think like that. Everything that had gone wrong was his own doing.

When he heard the door to the bathroom open he whipped around, ready to curse whoever dared to interrupt him until he saw you standing there, your eyes red from crying and the Marauder's Map clutched in your hands like a vice. He was half certain you were a hallucination, but as soon as he pulled himself to the present, he rushed to apologize. You had to know how horrible he felt about what he did, even if you would never forgive him. He made the mistake of being too cowardly to properly apologize to Lily, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

“(Y/n), I'm—”

“I know you're sorry,” you said callously, “and I know you mean it. That's not the issue.” you took a breath to collect yourself before you continued. This was so much harder than you thought it would be. Maybe this wound really was too fresh right now. You thought you'd be able to handle this conversation, but your prior feelings weren't making this any easier.

“Why did you do it?” you asked quietly, “Better, why did you do nothing? You were my friend, Severus.”

Whatever was holding back the flood of emotions in him, it snapped at your words.

Were. Past tense.

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Snape said in exasperation, though it came off more as anger directed at himself. His hands threaded through his messy black locks, his eyes nearly manic. You'd never seen him unravel quite like this. He was desperate to fix this, to keep you in his life. “No, I wasn't thinking at all, (Y/n). I couldn't, not when you were . . . not when I. . .”

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it—

“Not when I've fancied you for years.”

Snape knew immediately that he had made a mistake. The expression on your face made his stomach twist, and he knew there was no taking back what he said.

“No,” you said, tears welling in your eyes, “Severus Snape, don't you dare say that. What, do you think that just makes this all okay? You're an oblivious idiot, you know that?”

Your heart ached so bad it felt as if you couldn't breathe.

“Do you know how many times I wished you would have kissed me?” you said shakily, not bothering to hide the hurt in your voice.

Snape was sure his breathing had stopped, eyes wide with shock. He couldn't have heard that right. Did you really feel the same way about him? But reality hit him in the face when he saw your expression. This was no heartfelt confession on your part.

“For you to just. . . for it to happen like that,” you said, still struck with betrayal and disbelief, “If you've ever respected me, you never would have let that happen. I was under a curse, Severus. And you took advantage of that— of me. All because you were too much of a coward to just tell me how you felt. And then you go on and say you've liked me this whole time as a last ditch effort to save our friendship? How the hell did you expect me to react?”

He had nothing to say to that. He blamed himself entirely. Every verbal blow you struck he gladly took, he would have sat there still as stone if you hexed him, but you refused to draw your wand at him. You just stood there, staring straight through him with unbelievable hurt in your eyes.

“I can't do this, Severus,” you said, “please, just. . . just leave me alone. I'm not saying I'll never forgive you, but right now I can't even begin to think about that. Not now.”

You looked like you wanted to say something more, but your mouth snapped shut, and Severus saw the finality in your eyes. He stayed glued to the spot where he stood long after he watched you leave, his eyes trained on the door you'd slammed shut.

If you thought Snape had made himself scarce after what he said to Lily, after what he did to you he practically vanished. He no longer sat underneath the tree that had become so symbolic of your former trio. He no longer roamed the Slytherin common room, or even the Great Hall for meals. Instead he would walk through the forbidden forest alone, or hole up in some empty corridor purposely hiding but hoping you would walk up to him. You never did.

The people who did find him in the few days that followed were the newly named Marauders, though incomplete as they arrived without you. As he glanced down at the parchment in Lupin's hand he had no questions about how they'd located him. Snape grimaced, not bothering to get up from his seat beneath the stone pillar. Anything they did to him was what he deserved.

James stepped forward from the group first. His expression was unreadable, but Snape saw the way his jaw was set firmly in place, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The Slytherin had expected Potter to come at him guns blazing, sending a flurry of verbal attacks and hexes his way. However, James Potter simply stared down at his former enemy with a look that met in the intersection of barely contained anger and utter disappointment.

“You didn't deserve them,” he said coldly, his voice oddly level.

“I know,” Snape glared, but not feeling very self-righteous.

“No, you don't,” James said, his voice rising steadily, “you will never know what you put them through. You sat there while your lunatic friends used an Unforgivable Curse on them, and you took advantage of them. I don't care if you know, I'm going to throw it back in your face, because it's what you deserve.”

“I think it's clear that (Y/n) doesn't wish to speak with you any longer,” Remus said, “if for some inconceivable reason they want to in the future, they'll approach you. Don't you even think about going about it the other way around before they're ready and willing to talk. If they ever are.”

“It's settled, Severus,” James said simply, “you're officially not worth our time anymore.”

Snape blinked up at him, trying to recall a time when Potter had ever called him by his actual name.

“Don't get us wrong,” Sirius glared, “the only reason we aren't throwing you to the Womping Willow is because we know the last thing (Y/n) would want is her friends getting expelled because of them.”

“We'll leave you alone now,” Peter said grimly, “just like you've always wanted.”

And they were telling the truth. They left him completely alone, not speaking a word to him after that; 'they' now including you and Lily, which destroyed him more than any amount of bullying had before. He watched from afar as you grew closer and closer to the Marauders. . . no, you were a Marauder. It was only natural that you became almost like a family in your seventh year. You, James, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and Lily had become as inseparable as Snape thought you, him, and Lily were, but he'd ruined that. He had ruined every good thing that had ever happened to him and pushed away every important person in his life.

The last time he saw you was graduation day. Everyone was running around excitedly, dressed in the ceremonial jewel-toned robes of their respective houses as they awaited Dumbledore's speech. You had been sitting with your group as usual, now having carved out your own spot at the Gryffindor table, when you noticed that Snape was nowhere to be found.

You frowned, wondering why he of all people had to slip into your mind on a day like today.

“You alright, Fangs?”

Sirius' voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, I'm fine. . .”

His handsome features contorted in concern, but that easy grin slid back onto his face as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“What, you worried you're gonna miss us?” he smirked, “this isn't goodbye, you know. We'll all see each other at the Order meetings—”

“Which you always seem to talk about at an extraordinary volume,” Remus shushed him pointedly. Sirius brushed him off with a roll of his eyes.

“(Y/n), are you sure nothing's wrong?” James asked from across the table.

“I'm alright, Prongs,” you said, “I just. . . you know what? I just remembered I left something in my dorm, I'll be right back.”

Your friends exchanged worried glances as you got up from the table, taking off towards the Slytherin common room. It wasn't a total lie, but your intentions went against your better judgment. After today there was a very, very good chance you would never see Severus again. What he did wasn't okay by any means, and it would take more than an apology or a simple conversation to forgive him, but you needed closure at the very least. Not for him, but for you. You deserved that much.

You swiped the map off your bedside table and opened it fully, your eyes quickly picking out Severus' name near the cellars only a few rooms away from where you were. You took off quickly down the hall, reaching the intersection where all the dungeon's corridors converged when you spotted him. Your heart stopped.

His left sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, as was the person's standing across from him, their back to you. Even though you couldn't see the second person's face, you recognized who it was immediately.

Evan Rosier.

He wasn't on the map before. . . how had he gotten in?! He'd been expelled after the day he cursed you. Did he somehow find a way to bypass the anti-apparition charm?

You felt your breathing hitch, fear creeping under your skin. There, on both of their arms, was a tattoo of a skull, a serpent weaving its way through the mouth and eye sockets in an undeniable pattern. You stopped breathing all together. You knew Severus had fallen into the dark arts, but to actually be a death eater? To be proudly showing off that awful display of radicalism along with the person who had used an Unforgivable Curse on you, who had invaded your free will and taken over your body. . .

Severus must have felt you even from the opposite side of the hallway, because something pricking at his skin told him to look up, and when he did he wished he never had. You were looking at him for the first time in over a year, your eyes full of terror. Rosier followed his gaze, but when he looked over his shoulder there was no one there.

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

Severus sighed, trying to push the less than pleasant memories out of his head. He knew by now he was likely the last person left in the house besides you, Harry, and Sirius who were all staying here. Something like hope had sparked in his chest when he saw the faintest ghost of a smile on your lips as you saw him for the first time since graduation. He wanted to talk to you, to tell you he knew he deserved nothing from you, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it right if you would only give him a chance after all this time. In truth, he missed his friend. With Lily gone, you were one of the closest things he had to that left.

Against his better judgment, Severus made his way up the stairs, silent as a thestral as he headed for your room, but he stopped in his tracks when he reached the top. Sirius' door was cracked open the slightest bit, and what Snape saw inside made his blood run cold. You were sitting next to Sirius on his bed, your head resting gently on his shoulder. As you craned your neck to look Sirius in the eyes, that's when Severus saw it— the way the Marauder looked at you. The way his face seemed to light up, the spark that returned to his gray eyes, the utter adoration in them.

And just like that, Snape was a seventeen year old boy again, transported right back to that courtyard garden, watching Lily and James share their first kiss on the day he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. His heart shattered silently, though his departure was not so quiet as he took off down the stairs as quickly as he could. He grimaced at his own feelings, ones he knew he had no business owning.

As he was about to open the front door to leave, his instincts suddenly screamed at him to turn around, and he was just barely able to cast an invisibility charm as you began to come down the stairs. He held his breath as he looked at you. He knew he had no right to think so, but you were still beautiful like this; dressed in pajamas, hair disheveled, eyes still sightly puffy and red. He saw you look around, knowing you had no doubt heard his rather noisy descent of the staircase, and he cursed himself for not leaving sooner. Your eyes searched what should have appeared to be the empty space in front of you, but he saw you look him in the eyes, and he knew that you knew.

“Severus?” you called his name out softly, and the sound felt like a strike to his face.

He wanted nothing more than to say something to you, talk to you, hold you. But his mind flashed back to the way you had been with Sirius, and his words died in his throat. He said nothing, trying to remain unphased at your hurt expression as you turned around to walk back up the stairs. As soon as your back was turned to him, he left, unable to bring himself to do anything more.

Once again, he was too late.

Read chapter 8 here!

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years ago

Text

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @thenerdandfandoms @emily-gsh @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitehorn #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galythinius

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lovelybarnes · 4 years ago

Text

saudade- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other loki characters warnings: loki tv show spoilers, probably tva inaccuracies, mobius being trusted even though i don’t actually trust him lol, mentions of death, tears, a little sad angst but happy ending, ooc characters?? possible mistakes because i can't read this again skjfj about: requested, DF26 with TVA Loki running into the variant of his dead spouse a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i loved writing the last scene so much

loki has narrowly avoided the tva for years, opportunities much better than this and chaos a lot more chaotic than this have already been caused and passed. so the how and why he has been taken in at this very moment- while he’s eating at one of those fast food places you used to like- is very, very unknown to him. he should know, however; you’ve explained to him the tired concept of time traveling many times before, although the most important things were told to him when he thought you a mere mortal like the rest- something you were not- and could not possibly know something he didn’t- also something very untrue.

but the reasoning for his capturing is not at the front of his mind- although close- his main objective staying on how to get out of this unknown place and go back to looking for you- whether the fragile fabrics of reality and string of the timeline fray and break or don’t. he knows it possible, having seen the avengers do something similar, so why can a god like him not?

he’s ripped many holes, and he supposes the consequences for them are finally catching up to him, a lot sooner than he’d like. in another world, he’d already have you, and, with you by his side, you both would’ve been out long before, or never captured at all. although, he supposes, in a perfect world, you never would have been taken away from him in the first place.

he knows stopping for food he didn’t even necessarily need- or, really, like- was not a smart decision. he’s realizing exactly how not-smart of a decision it was with every passing second that the fools in armor drag him along the halls. the stop wasn’t needed, much less planned, but the memories the greasy food and dirty restaurant brought were too pleasant- a break full of you in the nonstop mission to find you. he could nearly feel your fingers touching his, hear your voice urging him to at least try and your bubbled laugh when he cringes. the fizz of the soda had made him grimace like the first time, except there was no you to giggle at it.

loki nearly thinks it was worth it. nearly.

when the guard shoves him into another room, loki takes a second to examine the exits, barely noticing the man at the desk. the person next to him pushes him further, dropping the tesseract and various stolen pym particles on the desk. loki takes note of where the man puts them so he can steal them back.

the guard stops with him in front of a small elevator, pulling a lever and waiting. loki looks at them, “where am i? get me back right now, i have things i must attend to.” the guard only looks at him, and loki scoffs, “i am loki of asgard, god of mischief and trickery, believe me when i say there will be deadly consequences if you do not do what i ask.”

the guard huffs a small laugh, “i’ve heard that before. we’ll see.”

the doors in front of him part, opening to a room he’s rammed into. he looks back the guard, one foot already out when he’s suddenly back where he was, watching as the entrance closes. he senses the machine before he can have a good look at it, a claw that he’s seen too many variations of beginning to poke at the fabric on his shoulders. he swats it away, standing tall as he glares at the smiling machine. “absolutely not! this is high tech armor, only few of this exists.”

the tech on the machine turns the grin into a frown, pulling back the talons and instead extending another apparatus that scans at his clothing, removing them with a yellow glow until he’s completely bare. he looks down at himself before looking back up at the face, pointing a finger, “now what-”

his words are cut off when he falls through the opening ground, falling onto the bottom room, now dressed in an uncomfortable tan jumpsuit, orange letters reading TVA on the left breast. a bored man in front of him pushes a pile of papers to him, “please sign to verify this is everything you’ve ever said.”

loki ignores his words, pushing it back, “i need to find someone, stop the absurdity.” the man only blinks as a machine whirrs, printing a piece of paper he reaches over to take and place on top of the pile. he hands loki a pen, “sign that too.” loki frowns, “did you not hear me? i have important things to do.” the machine does it again, and the man repeats his motions and shakes the pen in his hand. “that, too.” the god only sighs in frustration and signs, slamming the pen down before he’s dropped again.

another man greets him in a monotone, not even looking at him while he reads off the clipboard in his hands, “please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.” loki’s eyebrows furrow, “i’m not a robot- how many people don’t know?”

“thank you for confirming, move through,” he requests. loki glances at the machine in front of him before stepping through it, a small picture printing after he’s on the other side. loki catches vibrant orange and red with hints of green that overcome any other color. “through the door, please.”

he encounters the same guard from before with a frustrated glare, leading him to what looks like a courtroom, a woman sitting in the middle, reading off a file. “variant L4293, aka loki laufeyson-l/n, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. how do you plead?” loki tilts his head at her, “madam, a god- i don’t plead.”

the woman sighs tiredly, “are you guilty or not guilty?” loki’s eyes thin as he observes her. “guilty of… trying to find my wife, yes. guilty of being extremely frustrated, yes. guilty of whatever it is you’re accusing me of, no. not guilty.” loki’s hand curls, trying to use his abilities inconspicuously but dismayed to not be able to. he tries again, only to come up empty as he realizes what is happening. “magic powers are no good in the tva, mister laufeyson,” the judge says absentmindedly. “i prefer l/n,” loki diverts simply, unknowingly catching the attention of one of the attendees. the judge barely acknowledges him, about to say something else before a man jumps up, hand raised, “wait, wait- uh, i have something to add to this. before the court makes a decision.”

the judge tilts her head at the man, pursing her lips before sighing and letting him approach the bench. loki leans in to try to understand the whispers that are exchanged, ending in the judge sending one last look his way before letting him go. “the court finds you innocent- and under agent mobius’ responsibility,” she clarifies, looking at the man and watching him nod quickly. she slams her gavel and motions for the man- mobius, he assumes, to take loki. he stands and awkwardly bows, before going over to loki and raising an eyebrow, “don’t betray me,” he says, words too true to be something playful. loki’s head tilts to the side in slight confusion, watching as the man begins to walk, pausing to urge loki to follow him.

loki ignores the activity through the windows of the hall, choosing to concentrate on mobius. “why did you do that?” he wonders aloud, suspicious eyes following him as his head peeks into halls. “let’s just say it’s a favor, although you’ll be on thin ice forever.”

“favor for whom?” mobius doesn’t answer, turning a corner. loki exhales sharply before following him, continuing to pry as he briefly heeds his surroundings. the sight of a woman in a suit much like mobius’ catches his eye, her back to him but he recognizes the shape of her shoulder and the color of her hair. he looks away, pretending to concentrate on the clock thing on the television but actually chasing the overfamiliar features to a face.

the sound of your voice- something he hasn’t heard in an obscenely long time- craved for so much longer it seems like a lifetime, snaps his attention to what surely must be a cruel joke. he can tell it’s you now. you’re standing there, head tilted at the same receptionist man and chuckling exasperatedly, “come on, casey, we’ve been over this. a fish and a lion are not the same thing-”

“but a lionfish-?” casey asks, and loki is pushing away the guards already, because you’re there, you’re solid and laughing like you used to and you can’t not be real. he can distantly hear mobius’ voice telling the guards to let him go as if loki hasn’t already taken care of that, walking over to you with quick and quiet footsteps. his fingers circle around your wrist first as an assurance, and when you turn, hand still in his, eyes widening when you notice who he is, he pulls you into him completely. your arms wrap around him barely seconds later, finally registering the person in front of you as you squeeze him. “loki?” you whisper, inhaling the same familiar scent of him that you haven’t had in what seems like forever.

“i missed you so much,” he says, hands wandering over your back, touching your arms and your shoulders and your hips just to touch you. “me too- i didn’t- i thought i would never see you again.” your tears are falling on the fabric of his jumpsuit, small tearful gasps escaping your lips while you tug him as close as you can, tangling your fingers in his hair and shutting your eyes at the familiar feeling. “oh god, you’re here-”

“i missed you so much,” he repeats, and you finally notice his words, realization like electricity, making you tremble and sigh softly. “what does that mean?” you question, already fearing the answer and already knowing the effects: the mess of his usually kept hair and the red tint of his eyes, like a sheen of sadness that stains the color of the eyes you have missed for so long. loki pulls away from you only to look at your face, trace the shape of the lips he’d spent hours of the morning pressing kisses to, memorize the curve of the nose you’d scrunch in a laugh when thor was a victim to one of his tricks.

“i have been looking for you, darling,” he murmurs, fingers running over your fallen tears while you notice the shine of his eyes, the tears that enhance the love he has for you. “because i’m…” you don’t want to finish your sentence, and you can tell loki doesn’t want you to either; he scans your features, small smile peeking through the shock and grief.

“i didn’t… mobius didn’t show me that, i thought-” your eyes flicker to the man before settling back on loki, the weight of the ring he’d given you feeling lighter now that it had found its pair. the various eyes on you don’t go unnoticed, and neither does the look mobius sends to the rest of the workers, indicating for them to go back to work. the cold of loki’s skin is comforting to the touch of your warmth, and you find yourself back in the summer afternoons where you would settle with your husband to read books, rubbing cool fingers on the hot of your skin when you felt suffocated by the heat of the sun.

another tear slips from your eyes when you realize you don’t have to imagine anymore, there’s no need to search for your memories and shut your eyes for them to run over you. your lips are on his when you can’t help it anymore, eyes squeezed close and salty tears dropping from your chin when it finally settles that he’s here and he’s yours and he’ll never be gone again.

he’ll make sure of that.

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light-yaers · 4 years ago

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Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Nine

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: OHOHOHHOHOHOHHO. That’s all I can say about this chapter. Hope you enjoy it. All of you need to go to horny jail.

Buy me a Ko-Fi

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.7k

Chapter Nine

“I have a feeling I know how this story ends,” Jesper said sadly. You found yourself scoffing at him.

“No, you don’t,” You said lightly. “I still don’t know how it ends,”

“What do you mean?” Kaz spoke up, interested suddenly. You let out a sigh, sending a glance over to Inej who was watching you so closely; so worriedly.

“He’s still looking for me, still trying to find me. He doesn’t know I crossed the Fold—,”

“You crossed the Fold?” Kaz interrupted, standing abruptly. “Why? How?”

“You—you should be dead,” Inej said timidly. She was right, they were both right to react in such a way. It was almost impossible really, to cross the Fold on your own. No skiff, no secure route, no way of knowing what would happen when the dark swallowed you whole.

You thought then about telling them how—telling them how you did it and came out of the dark with nothing more than a few scratches on your body; but a lot of scratches in your mind. But you chose not to; that was the end of the story.

If it ended, then maybe... they’d throw you out. Cast you aside. Be done with their interest in your sad little life. You were scared that they’d leave you, even though you hardly knew these criminals. You were scared that you’d be alone again, when the weight of realisation that you’d been alone all along at the Little Palace had hit you so hard before.

All you wanted was security, stability, a home, a family.

“I know,” You finally replied, forcing yourself to smile. “You’re getting too far ahead, though,” Kaz slowly descended into his seat once more, fingers curled tightly around his crow-headed cane. You wondered then, what it felt like to constantly have something on your person.

Inej with her knives. Kaz with his cane. Jesper with his pistols.

You had no such thing, unless you counted the raggedy old Kefta on your shoulders, but you didn’t particularly want to. You’d hated it from the beginning; you’d only worn it because of him.

You could still remember the first time you’d ever donned it.

The Little Palace, Six Months Ago

“Hey! Hey!” Genya’s yells cut through the forest easily, as if the trees allowed her voice to penetrate through them to hit your ears. You stopped training as she approached, breathing heavily, her face blotched with red.

“Genya,” You said, amused, jogging over to where she was hunched over, catching her breath. “Did you run here?”

“No... horses... left...” She heaved out, waving a hand in front of her face in place of a fan. “Saints—that woke me up,” You placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, on the brink of laughing at her flushed face.

“What’re you doing?” You questioned, as she started to calm down. She sucked a breath deep into her lungs, regarding your amused expression.

“It’s the General,” She said. Your face immediately dropped as your heart catapulted into your throat. “He’s back,”

You waved Genya off as she rode your horse back to the stables. There was more than enough space for both of you on the steed, but you needed time to calm your trembling limbs. The walk back would be able to offer you that.

It’d been four months since Aleksander had left the Little Palace. Time had gone fast, but also agonisingly slowly at the same time; which still confused you as to how that was even possible. His face had been forever etched in your mind since that night—his timid knocks, his abrupt and unapologetic kiss, the way his fingers roamed your bare skin like an extension of your own body.

Your heart had been aching ever since, but you’d tried to replace that void with training. You worked hard, mercilessly, tirelessly, so that Aleksander would be able to marvel at your improvement after his return.

He’d sent letters, but rarely. You had three in total, scrawled down in rushed handwriting by a man who you imagined to be busy beyond belief. But he’d still sent them; he’d still checked in with you, sent his words of affirmation, adoration—

Craving. Words of craving and longing and the obviousness that he was missing you.

You kept those letters in the locked drawer of the desk in your chambers, keeping the key secure in the cabinet at your bedside. Maybe it was supposed to be secretive, maybe it was supposed to be kept in the dark—or maybe you were overanalysing it all—but you didn’t want people prying. You didn’t want the extra pressure or scowls or attention that would no doubt come from having this kind of relationship with the General.

If it even was a relationship. You opted not to call it as such, not fully understanding what Aleksander even saw in you, wanted from you—liked about you.

As much as these four moths had been incredibly lonely, you couldn’t stop the uncomfortable wave of anxiety that beat through your entire body as you walked back over the fields to the palace. Beyond those cream walls and gold trim and décor, Aleksander would be back inside.

Waiting for you.

You’d improved; there was no doubt about that. There was a small thought then, when you got ever closer to the palace, that perhaps you should show off. You could already see the hub of carriages and Grisha in the distance, surrounding the General upon his return—

And Saints, maybe it was jealously, or excitement, or fear—

But there was something urging you to summon the air and glide to him. Show him what you’d learned, what you were capable of, what you’d taught yourself in his absence.

You took in a deep breath, bringing your hands together quickly. The air surrounded you almost instantly, circling your body and ruffling your hair and blouse as it descended to your feet. Within seconds, you were hovering atop the mound of air at the ground, and as you directed your hands forward, the air followed your commands.

You were propelled forward quickly, gliding effortlessly up the remaining fields until you were back on the palace grounds. You kept going, rounding the stables and slaloming between plant pots and other garden décor, until you approached the courtyard in a flash.

A few Grisha squealed at your arrival, parting the crowds around Aleksander’s carriage and making way for your storm. You lowered your hands then, jumping to the floor as the air at your feet dissipated into nothingness. You took one step forward, and all of a sudden his eyes were on yours—

His stare unwavering, his shoulders broad and brooding, his eyes as dark and deep as the time he’d left; but the smile on his face was one that you’d never seen before. Some mixture of longing and nostalgia and awe. He was impressed, as his eyes roamed down your body until they hit your feet, where your summoned pocket of air had been just moments before.

He trailed his gaze back up your body, landing upon all of the places that he’d touched before. You skin buzzed beneath your clothes, set alight by his stare that you hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him, until he was stood before you once more.

Aleksander turned, fully, to you then, approaching you slowly, step by agonising step.

“General,” You spoke first, trying to bat away the huge grin on your face into something more subdued. “You’re back,” You added, with a lack of what to say, other than I missed you, Aleksander. Saints, you wouldn’t say that here, not around the other Grisha.

“I see you’ve... improved,” He said softly, trickling his rough voice over you warmly. Saints—you’d missed that fucking voice.

“I suppose that’s up to you, Sir,” You replied, ignoring the tension that floated between the two of you like a storm cloud, just waiting for thunder to crack and lightning to flash.

“Let’s discuss your improvements later. This evening, in my office,” He stated. You tried to keep your expression flat; professional.

“I’ll see you then, General,” He shot you a smile before moving away. The crowd of Grisha and officers dissipated as Aleksander made his way to the palace, and all too soon the black of his uniform was hidden behind the closed doors.

Genya came up beside you then, crossing her arms as an amused smile littered her face. “Someone’s happy to see you,” She said slyly. You shoved your elbow into her rib softly, giving her a light push.

“Shut it,” You said, but there was no denying it. You were happy, the happiest you’d been in months, seeing the stubble that dotted his chin and the pensive look he reserved solely for you. You didn’t care about the murmurs surrounding your abrupt entrance or the obvious secretive nature that you and Aleksander conversed in from the other Grisha—you only cared that he was back.

He was back with you, after what felt like years.

You couldn’t shake the smile from your face when you walked through the upper corridors of the Little Palace, headed back to your chambers that evening. You couldn’t shake the excited energy that coursed through your veins or the anxious buzz that you got from imagining being alone with Aleksander again, after so long.

“He’ll get bored, you know,” Her voice was the only reason the smile drained from your face then, as you stopped in the corridor and turned back.

Zoya stood in the middle of the hallway, silhouetted by the dwindling evening light. You’d recognise her defensive stance and tense shoulders anywhere. “He always does,”

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be face-to-face with her, after so long avoiding her presence. But all too soon that uncomfortable feeling hit your gut whenever she was around; fear of the unknown.

“What are you talking about?” You replied, but you knew she was talking about Aleksander. She took a few confident steps forward, brooding and almost frightening in this isolated part of the palace. You kept your guard up strongly.

“Kirigan loves girls that he can mould to his own perception. You’re just another in a long line of Grisha that he’s taken an interest in,” Zoya said, her voice coarse and unforgiving. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t know what to say.

“Let me guess, he called you special. He called you powerful and strong. He’s littered your mind with ego-building drivel and promised you what you desire the most,”

You were stunned by her words, as your mind started fretting the last six months under this roof. But—this was also Zoya. Zoya, who hated your fucking guts. Zoya, who was endlessly jealous of any woman that stood by Kirigan’s side. Zoya, who evidently had qualms with the General himself that had been long forgotten by him.

You refused to acknowledge any words that fell from her lips as fact. She was untrustworthy and always would be in your eyes. She continued to approach you, and you started to lose your nerve. You balled your fists instinctively, and she stopped when she saw your shoulders drop defensively. The grin that curled onto her lips was akin to the Devil—devious and all-knowing.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, when he decides you’re of no worth. What happens when he finds the Sun Summoner, hm? You really think he’ll stay by your side?”

“You’re hurt over something that has long since passed, Zoya. Kirigan saw through your childish behaviour. You need to grow up,” You finally replied, but the words felt muddied leaving your mouth. You hated confrontation at the best of times, but this conversation had curdled your blood faster than you’d expected.

Zoya let out a disgusted chuckle. “See? You’re already too far gone,”

“And you’re a snake who can’t get over the fact that Kirigan may prefer the company of others. Others who don’t hoard past relationships over his head like a curse and constantly beg for affection that he doesn’t want to give,” You watched as her face dropped, and then all too soon she was storming towards you. She swiftly shoved you into the wall of the corridor, shoving her arm beneath your neck and pushing down just enough to keep you stuck. You refused to fight back.

“Your days are numbered. He will soon come to realise that you are nothing but a lost soul, just like the Volcra in the Fold that he wishes to destroy,”

She left as soon as she’d appeared, rounding the corridor and leaving you to place a soft hand against your neck, sucking in air as you caught back your breath. You shut the door of your chambers quietly, flexing your fingers in an attempt to make them stop trembling.

You washed and freshened yourself up, your mind racing. That’s when the wardrobe caught your eye; something within it was burning to get out.

You stomped to it, opening the doors swiftly and laying your eyes over the long forgotten Kefta that Aleksander had commissioned for you so long ago. You draped it over your arm, tracing your fingers over the intricate and beautiful patterns of white and grey, next to the backdrop of such a deep black—his colour—

The colour of the Darkling.

“Enter,” His voice said lowly, and you entered his chambers confidently. Aleksander stood with his back turned to you, placing down two tumblers and that oh so familiar bottle of Ravkan rum on the dark wood table.

When he turned, he stopped immediately. Time slowed, the air stilled, and Aleksander was but a marble statue in a world of concrete creatures.

You stood by the centre table, tall, chin out, Kefta donned for the first time. The fabric draped over you snuggly, the belt showing off the waist that you had underneath such bulky clothing. In this light, the embroidery glistened like Fjerdan snow; bright, light, powerful. After six months, the Kefta that Aleksander had so desperately and patiently waited for you to wear was now on your frame.

You were a Grisha. And perhaps, you were his.

The smile that curled onto his lips hit you—that’s what you’d been waiting for in response. The subtle curve of his smile, the gleam of his dark eyes as they traversed every crevice and curve of your body before him, the subtle flex of his fingers as if eagerly awaiting when he’d be able to touch you again.

The Aleksander you had so dearly missed, after months without his presence. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

“Just as I expected,” He said finally, as he began to walk towards you slowly. “Radiant,”

You blushed at his words, allowing yourself to don a small smile as he approached ever closer. “You picked the right colour,” You replied, prompting a small scoff to fall from his lips.

He reached you then, standing face-to-face comfortably. You peered up at him, noting the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp he made. Tension surrounded you both once more, but it was much stronger than you’d been expecting.

Aleksander reached out and grabbed the belt of your Kefta, tugging you forward abruptly. You refrained from squealing as you were pulled into his chest, laying your palms flat against him and feeling the unmistakeable pitter patter of his heart, thumping mercilessly beneath his skin.

“It’s such a shame that the first time I see you in your Kefta, I also want to rip it off of you,” He whispered lowly, cascading his voice over your face until you were mere putty in his hands. His hands snaked around your waist then, keeping you flush against his chest. You raised your hands to his neck, eyes flicking to his lips involuntarily as a warmth gushed through your gut.

“That doesn’t sound like a shame to me,” You whispered back, drawing circles over his skin with your fingers. He shivered at your touch, and a small growl sounded from the back of his throat. Abruptly, he hoisted you onto the table, treading quickly so he stood between your legs snuggly. You let out a gasp at his forwardness, but there was no denying it—

Both of you wanted this, wanted each other.

It’d been months in the making, and the absence of one another had only increased these feelings tenfold. You wanted Aleksander to rip the Kefta from your body and kiss you everywhere. You wanted to run your fingers over ever section of bare skin that the Darkling possessed; intentionally, lingering your touch wherever you could, so he’d always feel the warmth of your fingertips even when you weren’t there.

“Do you know how much I thought of you while I was away?” He questioned, and you swallowed down your incessant heartbeat.

“I imagine it was close to how much I thought of you,” You replied, inching your lips closer to his own.

“I poured over your letters,” He admitted. “I imagined your voice reading them to me. I imagined us in the forest, alone together, when my body refused to sleep,”

“Aleksander,” You said abruptly, when the feeling in your gut became far too intense. “Just kiss me,” You begged. He obliged.

His lips pressed into yours with a ferocity that you’d been waiting for since he’d left. It was more than the kiss you’d stolen before he left; more meaningful, less hasty, as if he was taking his time to navigate the intricacies of your body and mouth, now that he was able to.

You gripped onto him as if you’d never let go, feeling the curve of his spine, the tension in his jaw, the soft but trusting way his eyes were closed as his lips were flush against your own. Without parting, his hands pried off the belt of your Kefta, exposing your bare chest beneath. You’d opted against wearing your blouse, almost knowing that this would happen.

When his hands lay upon your warm, bare skin, Aleksander parted from you. His eyes skimmed your chest, landing upon your clavicle and your exposed breasts. There was a hunger in his eyes that you’d never seen before, but one that only made you want him more.

He smiled boyishly. “This was quite presumptuous of you,” He let out roughly, referring to your bare chest.

“I know you, Aleksander,” You replied, as you allowed the thick Kefta to fall from your shoulders until your torso was utterly exposed.

“Yes, you do,” He said, before plunging his lips onto yours once more. You noticed the difference now, as if he was craving so much more, and didn’t know how to grab as much of you as he could. His fingers swiped down to your trousers before long, toying with your waistband.

But this time, you pulled away quickly. You looked at him with a smug expression, flicking your eyes over his clothed body. “I don’t think that’s fair,” You said playfully, as your fingers moved to the buckles of his uniform.

You’d seen Aleksander bare just once, when you’d both jumped into the lake those months ago. You’d been thinking of that day ever since, imagining the time you’d get to be the reason for him undressing in front of you.

He mimicked your smile, but instead of helping, he simply raised his arms. Like the body of Christ on the cross, he smiled and waited for you to undress him. You let out a scoff, jumping off of the table to kiss him playfully, as your fingers pried apart all of the buckles on his jacket and dropped it to the floor.

Aleksander toyed with you when you got to his shirt, nipping at your earlobe and neck while you tried desperately to undo the buttons.

“You’re terrible at this,” He whispered in your ear.

“You’re terrible at standing still,” You replied, giving him another peck while you tried to avoid his playful teasing. You undid another button and moved onto the next.

“I don’t want to stand still,” He said. “I want to carry you to my room and lay you down,” His words made your entire body shiver. Arousal crept up through your gut to your chest, causing your heart to almost explode beneath your ribs.

“You can do that after I’ve touched every inch of you,” You said, amused, but Aleksander let out a guttural moan. He stopped playing suddenly, as he abruptly wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you from the floor. You wrapped your legs around his hips instinctively.

“I’ve run out of patience,” He muttered, as he carried you to the adjoining room of his chambers. You’d never been in Aleksander’s bedroom before, but it was just as you expected. A dark wood, four poster-bed in the centre of the large room, dotted with matching furniture.

He dropped you to the bed and wasted no time as he went for your waistband once more. You protested playfully, scrambling to keep undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“No fair!” You yelled, but it was obvious you weren’t really complaining. Aleksander tugged down your trousers, pulling you abruptly as he loomed over you. His arms were by each side of your head, your body encased in his shadow as he towered above you, boxing you in from all angles.

He stopped then, as his eyes ate you up. All bare skin and soft curves and subtle goosebumps—his. He looked at you like he’d imagined this moment often, like it littered his mind when he tried to focus and only left him frustrated by his own desires.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more beautiful,” He whispered. You swiped your fingers over the last button, undoing it finally and tugging the shirt off of his shoulders. Your fingers skimmed over his chest softly, until you reached his heart. You placed your palm flat against his skin, keeping your eyes fixed on him.

“Your heart is racing,” You said, feeling his incessant beat. It only made your own speed up even faster, mimicking his own pulse.

“You know why,” He replied, and as he did, he dipped his head down, pressing his lips against yours strongly. You inhaled him fully, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him down on top of you.

He pulled away, coiling his arm around your head until his fingers were combing through your hair.

“It’s because of you,” He breathed out. “I’m only focused on you,”

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Thanks for reading! See you next time!

254 notes · View notes

astro-rain · 3 years ago

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twenty - “collateral damage”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n deal with the emotional fallout of her departure from wakanda.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: mildly suggestive content, nothing explicit, 18+ readers please.

The flight home was wretched. Sleeping on the jet was impossible. Every time she shut her eyes she saw his face. If her mind did somehow manage to drift off to sleep, Y/N dreamed of him and woke up trying not to rip her hair out.

"We can still stay in contact, right?" Bucky asked as they were walking back from the waterfall.

They had left their catharsis by the water, still upset, but now calmer and more logical.

"I don't think so..."

"What? Why? It's not like we don't have the technology to do it."

"I know, but.." Y/N trailed off, trying to think of a sensible excuse.

Obviously they could stay in contact if they wanted. But any kind of phone call would be able to be tracked or recorded. That, and she didn't want him to hang on to someone who betrayed him. She couldn't imagine the guilt she'd have hearing Bucky's "I miss you's" or "Baby doll's" from miles away, knowing she lied to him.

"You don't even have a phone..."

"That's an easy problem to fix."

"I know... I just think you should focus on the rest of your healing, and... you know, I'll have a lot of work once I get back...." she took a breath. "I don't know if it's super healthy for us to cling on to each other when it... may be better to move on..."

"Move on?"

"Yeah..."

Bucky stopped walking and turned to face her. They both stood still and he stared at her, confused, as if he was trying to figure something out. He knew her well. She was scared he'd see right through her.

"So let me get this straight. When you're here we can talk all the time and... plenty of other things. But when you're away we can't even call each other?"

"Bucky..."

"That's not all, is it?"

She sighed. "I'm just... worried... about- like-... getting in trouble. If someone overhears or tracks a phone call...What if someone finds out where the 'Winter Soldier' is and comes here to exact revenge?"

That was partly true. She'd never want anyone bad to find out where he was. But no one was tracking her phone calls; she wasn't really a person of interest. In all likelihood, it probably wasn't something she'd have to be terribly worried about.

However, if anyone overheard or saw Bucky on the phone, they'd know it was her, and she doubted anything she could say would convince them that she didn't tell him about the arm.

Or maybe no one would find out. She just didn't want to take the chance. The last time she took a chance, this happened. She wasn't willing to do it again.

He stared at her with dejected eyes. "You know you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

She rested her hands on his forearms and laughed sadly. "Bucky, I don't think I'm ever not gonna worry about you."

He was already in her heart. She didn't think he could leave now.

He let his eyelids fall shut. "I really don't want you to go."

She closed her eyes as well and let her forehead rest against the top of his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you either. But you're gonna do so well, even without me. And every day I'll wake up and think 'wow this man is sexy and has good coping mechanisms! I wish I was him!'"

In the midst of his sadness, she made him laugh. It was a despondent, quiet laugh, but she managed to lift his mood all the same - even if just a little bit. She'd always make everything better.

He gazed down at her, eyes heavy, and without even thinking about it... "I love you."

She looked down at the grass below her feet. "Buck..."

"I do. I'm sorry but I do."

She wrapped her arms around the middle of his back, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in tight, one arm up her back and the other cradling her head.

In the tiniest whisper, she let the truth flow out from her chest. "I love you, too."

The clouds provoked her, so peaceful and quiet, while her head was a big, loud mess. Y/N leaned her head on the window, glaring at them and wondering if she should've said what she did. That she loved him. Internally, she debated whether or not it would make things worse. But she wasn't going to see him again; she might as well have left him with the truth.

Time was lost to her. She thought she would be landing soon, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Bucky sat at the lake - their lake - and just stared into the water. It felt so strange to him, that she was gone. One minute she was here and now he was just... alone.

It was so quiet. Too quiet. Of course being alone was quiet, but after Y/N left, the air just felt empty.

He wished he could talk to her. Whenever he was upset, all he wanted to do was talk to her.

"So, is this... d-do we say goodbye now?" he asked when they got back to his hut.

"Yeah..." she sighed. "yeah."

"Are you going back to Europe?"

"Yes. Belgium. Haven't been in my apartment in forever."

"Belgium," he wondered. "It's nice there. Safe. What are you gonna do for work?"

"Probably just continue where I left off on my research. Fancy brain stuff, ya'know?"

He grinned, proud. "My smart girl."

She looked around her, as if watching for something. Or someone.

"Buck, I think I have to go now."

"Just one more minute? Please. I wanna remember you like this. Not sad and crying."

Y/N smiled, grabbed his hands, and kissed his knuckles. Both flesh and metal. Because they were both part of him and she loved him. All of him.

Then, she placed both his hands on either side of her face. Softly she said, "remember me like this," before bringing their lips together.

He looked down at his vibranium arm, twisting his wrist to watch how the plates whirred.

Since the first moment he put it on, he had been using it to be gentle, loving, and affectionate. This arm was good. This arm wasn't used for death and destruction and violence.

With this arm he held her, kissed her, loved her. And now she was gone. And now it felt like dead weight.

— ONE WEEK LATER —

Whenever Bucky looked at his bionic arm he saw her. It began to make him sad.

His hair had been getting longer and longer. He could cut it now, now that he had two arms. But every time he tried, all he could do was stare at the arm and hear her voice in his head.

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

That was the first time he expressed real distress about missing a limb, he recalled. That was the first time they kissed. Funny how that transition was made, funny how she could remedy some of his worst emotions.

His days were boring and uneventful and nearly silent. He sat alone a lot. There was no laughter anymore, none of her laughter. There was no more holding, no more kissing, no more loving. The arm just felt... wrong? Like what it was born from had died.

In Belgium, Y/N felt incredibly uncomfortable. She knew she just needed to adjust to the change, after getting to used to life in Wakanda - life with Bucky. Her vacant apartment didn't feel as homey.

It had been, what, a year and a half? About a year and a half since she had been home. About a year and a half spent with Bucky.

Her apartment seemed so... barren. Void of life. And cold. She was used to the Wakandan heat. When she closed and locked the door behind her, she looked at the golden square that the sun cast through her window. It reminded her of that heat.

Y/N sighed, cursing her very own hippocampus for providing her with memory.

"God, I wish you had an AC in here."

She was in his bed. Well, she was on top of him, straddling him, in his bed.

"Is it hot or is it just you?" he joked, poking at her sides and trying to not pout at the loss of her lips.

"Ha. Ha," she rolled her eyes and brought her face back to his.

"Wait," Bucky said and gently pulled her face away to examine it. "You are a little warm."

"It's okay," she quickly tried to resume their previous activity.

"Hold on-" he got cut off as Y/N kept pecking his lips over and over.

"I have-"

Kiss.

"An idea-"

Kiss.

Lightly he pushed her shoulders away, nearly giggling. "Stop it! Just wait a second!"

Bashful, she conceded. "What?"

"Just-" he reached out and put the vibranium hand on her forehead, effectively cooling her down a bit. She closed her eyes and flashed a goofy smile.

"That feels nice."

Then, suddenly, he wrapped both his arms around her back and flipped them over so that he was on top. He smirked.

"Oh yeah, you just wait."

She hung her keys up and took a deep breath, absorbing the emptiness. This was her new normal; she just had to get used to it.

"I just- I don't really... I don't think I need it," Bucky tried to explain.

Want it, he thought. I don't want it. I can't stand to even look at it.

"You don't need it?" Shuri asked.

"Yeah, it-uh it takes a bit of getting used to and I think I just need a break. And I wouldn't want to damage it so... figured it's better with you."

He was better at lying than he gave himself credit for.

"Okay," Shuri accepted his answer and began to detach the bionic arm. "But you let me know if it's uncomfortable or painful anywhere so I can adjust it. Alright?"

"Alright. Thank you."

Finally he was rid of it- that cursed metal weighing down on his soul. Maybe now he could focus on other things. Maybe. It didn't seem likely...

However, as the days drew closer, it did make him slightly - only slightly - less nervous about the trigger word experiment. Now he didn't have a weapon attached to him. Though he reckoned he was the weapon.

No. He wasn't supposed to think like that. He knew Y/N wouldn't want him to. He knew she would say something like, "You aren't what they tried to make you into. You're you and all HYDRA's awfulness can't change the good at your core. My Bucky. You're perfect."

He'd deny to high heavens that he was the farthest thing from perfect. Bucky had no clue how she could say such things. But her conviction never faltered.

Soon enough the day came. The experiment. All he could think about was how she was supposed to be there. He didn't want to do this without her.

But now, he found himself sitting at at a fire on some mountain with one of the Doras. It was dark and it was scary. He was scared.

"It is time," said Ayo.

Nevermind want. He wasn't sure if he could do this without her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I won't let you hurt anyone."

He was still scared. He still didn't trust himself. But, staring into the fire, he thought back to a past conversation.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? ... And I will not let anything happen to you."

Bucky didn't have to trust himself. He just had to trust her. Even if she wasn't here, even if she was on another continent, all he had to do was trust her. When Ayo began reciting the trigger words, that was the one thing thing he held onto. The one thing that kept him afloat.

His trust in her.

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kiame-sama · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do a Yandere Silva where the reader is getting hit on by a butler with a death wish and Silva freaks and it ends with rough sex where reader won’t be able to walk👀🍵

Warnings; lemon, rough behavior, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, mentioned non-con, reader gets threatened, reader has female parts, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), 69, peak into the yandere mind of an assassin,

~~~~~~~~

You sat quietly in your room, relaxing back on the large couch and idly listening to whatever was currently on the TV. It had been a fairly quiet day, but most days were quiet (other than when Silva decides he needs attention). You were rather bored, slightly considered taking a nap or even calling for Silva just for some kind of entertainment.

Just as you were in the middle of deciding what to do, the door slowly began to open. This immediately put you on guard since the only ones who would enter your room tended to fling it open despite how unbelievably heavy the door actually was. You were quick to retrieve your panic button, a distress alert Silva had given you just in precaution for someone getting to your room. It only happened once that some fool decided to kidnap you without anyone knowing until you were already gone, but he made certain it would never happen again.

You fiddled with the small device nervously, watching the door with great anticipation for whoever it was on the other side. You were surprised to see a man you had never met before. He wore a suit identical to that of the butlers that worked in the manor, but all of the butlers should know better than to even come within twenty feet of your room.

"So you're the famous Zoldyck treasure. I can certainly see why."

He looked you up and down, making you feel far more exposed than you actually were. The man was blond and had bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer in the light of your cell. He was fairly tall, though not as tall as Silva, and he had sun-kissed tan skin. The way he looked at you like a piece of meat made your skin start to crawl, so you subtly pressed the button and hoped that this man wouldn't have the time to do anything to you.

"You're quite the big mystery. Most here don't know what's in this room, and It's even one of the most enforced rules; don't go near this room. I can see why you're considered a treasure, a lovely thing like you would attract a lot of attention. But, I don't see why you're kept away from everyone like this. Can you tell me?"

"..."

"It's okay, I don't bite, unless you want me to. You must be such a fragile little thing, being locked up like this for your safety."

"I'm not locked up for my own benefit."

"Oh?"

"I'm here because my husband doesn't like sharing."

This, instead of making the man back off like you thought it would, the man only seemed to become more interested in you due to your words. He began a slow approach towards you, making you retreat until your back was pressed against the wall and he was mere inches away from you. You tried to turn your head away from him, keeping as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing just how Silva will react.

"He doesn't have to know... Isn't it exciting, though? Sneaking around like this."

"No."

"Oh come on, live a little, sweetheart."

"Leave me alone."

"Nah, I don't think I will. In fact, no one even knows I'm here, so no one will come check on you. I could do so many things to your tight little body with the time I have... And no one would even hear you cry for help."

"Stop- Stop it."

"So scared. Good. I like 'em scared. You're gonna be so much f-"

He was suddenly cut off by the door slamming open with enough force to make the walls shake, him turning on his heel to confront whoever just arrived. You were quick to slide past the stunned man as he turned away from you, hurriedly making it to Silva's side and hiding behind him. The man had a look of pure terror on his face, clearly not expecting the terrifying assassin to appear.

You gripped tightly to the back of Silva's shirt, pressing your forehead against his broad back as you hid from the intruder that had threatened you so gleefully. The small glimpse you got of Silva's expression was enough to tell you everything you needed to know. He wasn't just mad, he was furious. Luckily, none of that fury was directed towards you.

Not only were his burning blue eyes filled with pure hate, they seemed to glow in the light of the room with a predatorial glint. He never really seemed to smile anyway, but his expression wasn't his usual scowl, it was akin to the stone-cold expression of a wild animal ready to kill. There was a palpable hate in the air that made it quite clear Silva had no intention to let the man live.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"He threatened me."

A low hum that sounded more like a growl rumbled from his chest, clearly displeased. The man had yet to move from his original spot, frozen in terror at the intimidating visage of your furious husband. Had the situation been different, and had the man not threatened you, you would have felt pity for him, but you felt no pity now.

"Explain."

"Wha-What?"

"Explain just what you are doing in my wife's room."

The man had already been terror stricken, but now all of the color disappeared from his face as he realized just how stupid his decision had been. He had assumed you were just another family member, maybe a sister or daughter. He only began to now realize just how fucked he was. Even though he was a relatively new butler, he knew of Silva's infamous temper and he also knew to never talk about Silva's wife, lest he wish for the most painful death possible.

He had seen Kikyo around, and since Kalluto was always trailing behind, he had assumed that she was Silva's wife and did his damndest to stay away from her and stay out of her path. He had heard stories about what would happen to anyone who took any level of interest in Silva's wife, but he had just figured it was meant as a basic warning about the woman herself. Yet here he was, staring at the most terrifying man he had ever encountered after just having threatened and attempted to force himself onto the very woman he was warned to never speak of.

"Well?"

"I- I didn't- I hadn't- but-"

"You've already exceeded my patience, filth."

"I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't know who she was! I wouldn't have said those things to her if-"

"Said what 'things'?"

"..."

You pulled away to look up at your towering husband, seeing him glance over his shoulder at you, his eyes far more gentle and loving. The glance was a clear prompt to speak, and you'd rather not push Silva's buttons at that moment, given his unyielding rage about to overflow.

"He threatened to rape me and said no one would hear me scream."

There was a sudden change in the entire room the moment you finished your sentence. It was a crushingly heavy pressure that seeped into every corner like a rolling miasma, consuming everything. The pressure quickly lifted from you, allowing you to breathe though it was clear the intruder did not receive the same kindness as he choked and dropped to his knees.

If you thought Silva was mad before, he was as tame as a kitten in comparison to the rage that now consumed him. You were well aware of Silva's knowledge in ways to kill a man, but it seemed more like he was interested in a slow drawn out slaughter. He never once looked away from the terrified man, even as he spoke in a gentle tone to you.

"(Y/n), go wait in our room. Don't come out until I tell you to."

"Alright..."

Quickly scrambling to the room you two shared, you caught a glimpse at Silva's expression and felt your heart drop into your stomach. Even though you knew he was not angry with you at all, that look alone sent fear running down your spine and into your very being. You closed the door and sat on your bed, hearing a sudden shrill voice begin screaming.

It wasn't hard for you to guess the kind of mood Silva would be in once he was done dealing with the man. There was no doubt in your mind he was going to be rough as well, knowing how he got when jealous. You also knew he would be jealous as all hell due to the man being in your room. It may not have been your fault and the man may be dead, but with Silva, jealousy didn't fade away.

There were few things you could do at that point to soften Silva's mood, and honestly him being rough wasn't that bad (so long as he doesn't break your bones). Given how terrifying just a glance at him was, you figured you'd do something that should brighten his mood and help soothe his jealousy a bit. You dug through your clothes picking out your white and blue lingerie- Silva's favorite for obvious reasons- and waited on the bed.

The screams had yet to stop, though they certainly took on a more gurgling tone the longer it went. You shivered slightly, wondering just what Silva was doing to the man, since he was an expert at torturing people. Though he has hurt you in the past- most being accidental- you know just how strong he is and just how deeply his few emotions impact him. Looking from the outside, he feels nothing, but with you he is extremely expressive in everything he does.

You lay back on the bed, thinking about how much you truly impacted him and how much your wellness meant to him. Hell, the man would move heaven itself if you wanted him to. He was the dominant partner, but he was also a slave to your every emotion.

While you let yourself get lost in thought, you slowly slipped off to sleep with Silva's pillow cuddled in your arms.

Movement on the bed drew you out of your peaceful slumber, letting out an upset whine at being woken. You were slightly disoriented from your sudden awakening and blearily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As your brain began to fully wake as well, you realized that Silva was right above you, his large hands on either side of your head.

There was a faint feeling of surprise as you noticed not a speck of blood on the giant man. You figured he would have been soaked in the blood of that idiot butler, but not a single fleck of red marred his flawless skin.

"Trying to cheer me up?"

There was the slightest of smiles pulling at his lips as his eyes slowly dragged over your barely covered figure, letting out a low hum of pleasure and licking his lips slowly. He seemed almost too calm at that moment, but you knew the beast that dwells within would easily come forth once he began.

"It certainly does help..."

"I thought it would be nice to surprise you... but I guess I fell asleep before you came back."

"You are a wonderful creature, (y/n), did you know that?"

"Well, there has to be some reason you keep me around."

"Sassy thing."

His tone was teasing, but you knew he wouldn't be teasing you for very long, not with the way his sharp blue eyes roamed your body. He sat up, now letting his hands roam your soft body and squeezing every few seconds. No matter what mark may be on you- be it a scar, a birthmark, a mole, didn't matter- he adored you and held such reverence for you. Even when you gain or lose weight, you are a Goddess in his eyes, and he made sure to treat his Goddess well.

"Mmm, you do know how to rile me up."

"Lots of practice."

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes narrow in bliss from your gentle touch. When you suddenly tightened your grip and tugged on his long hair, that calm expression changed in an instant. He was now less of a man than he was a beast, moving you suddenly so your legs rest on his shoulders, your back against the pillows.

He didn't say a single word as he gripped the lacy panties you wore between his teeth, pulling back in one smooth motion and ripping the delicate fabric with ease. You were about to whine at the destruction of his favorite set but you didn't even manage to get a single word out before he buried his head between your thighs, tongue easily sliding through your soft folds. He didn't bother with being slow in working you up, he just slid his tongue as deeply into you as he could to slurp up your juices.

The noises coming from him were obscene as he sucked on your soft pussy, low moans vibrating against you as he gripped your legs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly and tilting your head back with breathy moans. He held your hips still, making it so you were unable to do anything other than writhe in the pleasure he gave you.

It was clear that him holding you still was more of a dominance thing to reassure himself and soothe his burning jealousy more than it was to show his dominance over you. He was using your presence and your sweet moans as his own validation of being your one and only. Reminding himself- and in some ways, you- that you were still his and he had no intention of sharing you in any way.

You truly have only had honest social interaction with three people on a consistent basis and your five children on the odd occasion for more than twenty years. If that didn't give you a good visualization of how deep his jealousy runs, then it would be the contempt he has for his own children. As far as he was concerned, you only truly needed him in your life and no one else would have the chance or ability to get between the two of you.

He was much like a religious zealot with how fiercely he coveted you and everything about you. His tongue was as deep in you as possible while his large thumb rubbed your clit, blue eyes closed in bliss as if he truly received deep pleasure from taking care of you and pleasuring you like a wild animal did its mate. You were his everything, and he wanted your everything desperately enough he had you kidnapped only days after meeting you, already in deep obsession and fanatical adoration for you.

Continuing with endless stamina, he brought you up to mindless pleasure and kept you there, every whining cry you made only served to fuel his desire and increase blood-flow to his achingly hard cock. In typical Silva fashion, he completely ignored his own needs to not only ensure your pleasure, but to test himself to see how long he could listen to you moan before snapping and giving in to the starving beast within him. He was quite the dominant masochist when it came down to it, always adoring every scratch and mark you make on his fair skin but also making sure he was the one on top and in control.

With a loud sucking sound, he pulled away from your soaked pussy, licking his lips with hazy bliss filled eyes never leaving your shaking form. He was completely lost in his desire to possess all of you, and he gently trailed his warm hands up your soft front until he lightly gripped your chin, holding your mouth open. You were faintly worried about what he planned on doing while in such a blissed out state, yelping when he moved you down the bed with both hands before moving so his muscular legs were on either side of your head.

He slid his large cock slowly into your mouth, your jaw stretching a bit further to accommodate the rock-hard length. A deep moan rose up from his chest as he thrusted his hips a few times before returning to digging his tongue into your slick heat. He did the majority of the work to pleasure you both, ensuring to keep himself from making you deep throat him just yet. You reached up to rest your hands on his hips for your own sake should he unintentionally begin to choke you, but to Silva the contact of your gentle hands on his pale skin was overwhelmingly intense.

He was extremely touch starved when it came to you due to his distant and cold upbringing despite how much physical contact he actually had with you on a regular basis. Just another reason for him to be obsessed with the touch of your skin and the feel of your body against his. Each small brush of your hand anywhere on his body sent intense sensations running through his very being. To feel not a hint of affection during the critical developmental beginning years of his life left him distant and made him believe all outside touch would bring only pain.

Of course, when he met you, his entire world changed drastically. Your touch was gentle and brought no pain with it, only the sweet sensation of honest care and empathy. He had to have you, and only you. Only your touch brought him such calming pleasure and consuming affection. Even as he bucked his hips into your warm mouth, he was past cloud 9 in absolute bliss, sinking his tongue into your extremely wet pussy and almost desperately trying to bring you the same level of pleasure that he felt even when simply in your presence.

That's what he always tried to do.

He felt so much from and for you that he couldn't help but attempt to reciprocate that pleasure any chance he got. His addiction to your touch was likely why you two were still so sexually active even after decades together, that and Silva used that intimate connection to soothe his own mind consuming anxiety. It was why he became so irritable whenever he is away from your side for more than 24 hours. His mind drowns him in anxiety with every outcome of you being attacked while he is away.

It would destroy him to know something hurt you or you were unwell in some way while he was gone. He would feel like he failed you as your husband and that he failed you as your protector. He refused to fail. The cost would be too great.

You, on the other hand, happened to be lost in the feelings of pleasure running through your veins, to the point you didn't honestly notice much other than the warm cock in your mouth and the hot tongue on your pussy. Every moan you made only made that large length twitch and throb, feeling the slide of your tongue against his flesh as you let your fingers slide over his hips. It was clear he enjoyed it as he let out deep moans and growls of pleasure, holding himself back as long as possible.

Just when you felt the pulse of his heartbeat flutter, he pulled away from you, leaving you confused and slightly dazed. He was watching you try to collect your thoughts, proud he made you so delirious with pleasure that you needed time to return to awareness. His movements were slow and methodical as he positioned himself between your legs, raising your hips up so he could slide through your soft folds.

"Look at me, (y/n)."

His deep voice drew your scattered attention, staring up into his intense blue eyes in an almost questioning way. There was a moment of silence as he stared at you in adoration, not looking away from you as he slowly slid his firm length into you, watching the way you gasped and writhed on the bed. He gave you only a moment to adjust to his size once more before he began to thrust into your welcoming body, drowning in the tight embrace of your warm insides.

You moved up and down on the bed with each rough thrust, clawing at the sheets beneath you. Silva pound into you with such intensity you could barely draw in a breath before it was being forced back out with another rough thrust. He leaned over your writhing and mewling form to start pressing open mouthed kissed against your neck, biting down a few times to hear you yelp and whine. You wrapped your arms around him and let your nails bite down on his fair skin, shivering from his rumbling moan directly against you ear.

As you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed, you reached up to his hair and gripped on the long locks, tugging hard enough to remove his lips from your neck. You had to stop tugging on his hair and just cling to him as his thrusts became rougher, pressing one of his hands against your soft stomach and feeling the way he moved inside of you. The increased sensation of his large cock rubbing against your tight walls practically made you scream in delight, your pleasure overwhelming and consuming you as your orgasm flooded your body.

"So tight..! You are mine. You will always be mine. I'll never let you go. I'll never let you forget."

You barely registered his crooning words due to your overstimulated nerves sizzling in your brain. He adored the hazy look in your eyes as you were consumed by the pleasure he provided you. That sweet expression on your lovely face was enough to push him over the edge, his hot cum painting your soft insides with every intense pulse.

When he finally pulled out of you, you were still trying to catch your breath and clung to his body with all of the remaining energy you had. The low humming chuckle that came from him was a soft and soothing rumble that was quite like the purr of some feral beast. You curled close to his warm body, snuggling down into his grasp as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mine."

#Yandere silva #Yandere silva x reader #Yandere x reader #Silva Zoldyck #hxh silva #daddy silva

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personasintro · 4 years ago

Text

the boss | jhs

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; In the middle of important business meeting, Hoseok spreads his mouth free and it almost costs you one of the greatest business deals. You've to remind Hoseok who's the boss.

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: boss!reader, fluff, smut, little bit of angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: strong language, dom!hoseok, bratty!reader, ass play, oral sex [female & male receiving], fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, edging, multiple orgasms, spanking, impregnation kink, creampie, penetrative sex, choking, little bit of dirty talk, jealous hoseok, reader provokes him, he rips her panties, nipple play, overstimulation, biting, throat fucking

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 11.4k

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

“How could you do that?!” you exclaim through clenched teeth as soon as you hear the door of your office slam.

You’re pretty aware that if you raise your voice, all employees could perfectly hear you scolding none other than Jung Hoseok. A perfect employee with doing amazing job every day, until today.

He possibly ruined the business deal you’re a head of and let’s say it this way, once your boss finds out he lost a perfect opportunity to earn tons of money by Chung investing some money into your business, you’re done for. Well, maybe it’s not that dramatic but he certainly won’t be happy with you. All thanks to Hoseok who couldn’t remained to be professional for another hour.

The meeting went great. Chung listened to your every word with so much intensity, seeing rather interested what the company could offer him. You had him. Not until it was turn to the rest of your colleagues slash employees to explain the project further. That was until it was Hoseok’s turn to speak. Throughout the meeting, you could see him looking strangely serious, even if he always tends to have that professional look when he’s focused and working. But this time he looked different, almost angry and annoyed.

Now that you look at it, he really was trying to remain professional and explained all the points he made on his laptop. That was until Choi barely paid attention to him, which probably irritated Hoseok even more. It was disrespectful of Choi to turn with an obvious bored expression as he asked; “Come again?”

But then something snapped in Hoseok, his eyes turned almost dark underneath the bright lightening of the meeting room.

“Maybe you should listen to us, rather then eyeing our boss’ ass.”

A round of gasps that resounded around the table made you do the same thing, your mouth falling open when you realized that you’re the boss. Hoseok was talking about you and how Choi couldn’t keep his eyes off you. But it’s the word ‘ass’ that should never been said in that room, especially when one of the most important CEOs is sitting there and it’s aimed towards him.

But even then, it didn’t stop. Not even when Choi shook that look of shock and embarrassment for being called out in front of fifteen people, including you sitting at the top of the huge table.

“Excuse me?” he asked as he tried to remain calm, not wanting people in the room to see him caught off guard.

And you clenched your teeth, daring Hoseok to say something while your eyes shot him daggers which he ignored so easily.

He surely wouldn’t be so stupid to talk back. You thought.

“You heard me. Shouldn’t you be more professional? Aren’t you old--“

“Jung,” you barked, cutting him off at the exact point when your brain caught onto what he was about to say.

Choi is older than you, in his early forties to be exact.

��In the office. Now.” you stood up, your chair screeching against the marble floor but you could care less about that, or the fact everyone watched you with big eyes and opened mouths.

And here you are.

Hoseok seems unbothered, carelessly tucking the hem of his shirt around his elbow. Silver watch sparkle around his wrist and you’re momentarily distracted by the veins that are popping underneath his skin.

“What? Stop him from ogling you like you’re the greatest meat?” he asks, an attitude laced in his voice as he frowns.

Ignoring the fact he called you the greatest meat, you roll your eyes. “He’s a very important business partner. Do you realize what you’ve just done? You probably cost us one of the biggest deals we could ever had!” you exclaim, not having the strength to keep your voice down anymore.

Just the thought of it makes your blood boil. You can imagine yourself sitting in the CEO’s office, being scolded by him while you’re trying your best not to cry.

Maybe in that moment, Hoseok didn’t realize what could possibly happen if he opens his mouth.

“Who the fuck cares about a business deal?! He ogled you like a fucking pervert he is! He doesn’t care about our business deal!” he exclaims back, leaving you speechless that he just raised his voice at you.

“Language.” you scold him, causing him to snort in return before he chuckles.

Is that what really bothers you right now?

“He doesn’t care about us or this business deal.” he tells you again, keeping his voice down this time.

“All we need is the money!” you snap frustratedly, ready to choke this man to death. He’s so fucking stubborn. “Look, I know you’re coming from a good place. But you can’t talk to him like that, not when he’s about to sign a new contract and gets us the money we need.”

“Who says I can’t talk to him that way? That’s what he gets for eyeing your ass and licking his lips. Fucking pervert. I don’t care who he is.”

“But I do, Hoseok. We need this business deal. It comes before our personal life.” you inform him, causing him to frown once again.

“No it doesn’t,” he argues back, leaving you mentally groaning. “I don’t care where we are. He doesn’t get to eye you like that.”

Your heart swells at his words, knowing he’s being protective and incredibly hot while he’s doing it, but your job is more important right now. You had him, but Hoseok ruined it with his big mouth.

“He can, I wouldn’t even touch him with a stick.” you tell him, scrunching your nose in disgust.

“Oh really? If I remember correctly, you were smiling widely when he greeted you with a kiss.” he points out, raising his brow at you while he has that look on his face. The one where he’s angry, annoyed and brave at the same time.

“Kiss on the cheek!” you exclaim, “I was trying to be nice. Kim relies on me, he told me to do this business deal and I almost had him. But you probably ruined it.”

You don’t mean to sound so angry, because you know Hoseok meant well. He still does. But he has to realize he has to put a line between you and job as soon as you cross those wide door of the company.

“So, you were aware of him eyeing you... is that right?” he asks lowly, something switching in his eyes.

Sometimes that makes you feel nervous, rather than angry.

“Yes,” you sigh, “I’m not stupid.” you grumble, seeing him scratching his chin before he lets out a dark chuckle.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Your eyes widen and you stare at him with a utter shock. “Excuse me?” you frown, your voice angry but he barely seems to be affected by that. “I’m your boss, Jung.” you remind him, but he only chuckles again.

However, there’s no amusement in it.

“Yeah, I’m aware. But I won’t let him disrespect you like that.” he snaps, wondering how the hell you’re so cool with it. It seems like this is bigger deal for him, than it is to you.

“Hobi,” you speak softly, walking closer to him.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way to him, appreciating how close he is once you can smell his manly and fresh cologne. His own eyes soften, especially once your hands sprawl against his chest.

“I appreciate you standing up for me, but you don’t have to do that. Not right now. This is really important for the company, he didn’t touch me or anything close to it. This is what I meant by saying that we won’t work like this,” you tell him, watching him scowl as he takes a step back from you. You quickly go to explain yourself. “What I mean by that is, that we need to draw the line here. I don’t regret doing this with you, but you know how scared I was at the beginning. God knows what boss will think once he finds out.”

He knows that. He knows it all, yet all he can see is Choi’s eyes on your body. If he could, he would punch his old face. Maybe he could go back and do it. He doesn’t realize he said it outloud, not until you exclaim his name and frown at him, annoyed that he barely listens to your words.

“Stop it,” you scold him, “We should go back and you should apologize to him. Maybe we can still save the deal.”

“Fuck no.” Hoseok frowns again, disagreeing with you right away as you gape at him.

“I’m your boss, Hoseok. I’m telling you to go back there and apologize. Put your man pride aside and start acting professional.” you order him, knowing very well he doesn't like every word you just said.

“No,” he tells you firmly, your mouth opening once again in shock. “I’m not gonna do any of that.” he disagrees, crossing arms over his chest to prove his point.

“I’ll fire you.” you threaten, but the man remains unbothered at your sudden threat, although it surprises him.

You were never this serious over some business deal. But then again, this is for the first time something like this have happened.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he scoffs, but his eyes search for the right answer.

“I’ll, if you won’t listen to me.” You don’t budge, crossing arms over your chest like he did.

But he frees his arms, letting them drop to his sides as he stares into your eyes. “Then fire me. I don’t care.” he spits, turning around as he walks out of your office with a loud thud.

You flinch at the sound, your eyes watering because all you can think of, is his back and the way he’s leaving without another single word.

To say he’s pissed is clear. He made sure you know that.

Going back to the meeting room was quite embarrassing, considering everyone stared at you while they kept their mouth shut. You were the center of attention and they probably wondered where Hoseok went, because he certainly didn’t come back with you. He stormed out of your office and went God knows where. As much as you wanted to look for him, wondering if he left, you had a business to save. That’s what you had to do anyway, set the personal life aside and be professional.

Choi looked at you as soon as you went back to your place, but this time he set his eyes to the device in front of him. No matter what Hoseok told him, it helped and he stopped having that hungry look. Maybe he thought he was sleek with it and nobody noticed, but now that he was called out for it, he stopped.

It was just another painful reminder that Hoseok did that, he made sure you’re respected and not eyed from an older man just because you’re a woman.

But you apologized for Hoseok’s behavior, faking sincerity, knowing that if Hoseok could hear you apologizing on his behalf, he’d go feral. You had to do it and save what could be saved, even if it means lying.

Someone important like Choi wouldn’t admit his mistake or apologize for his behavior, you weren’t expecting that. And you had so little confidence that the deal could be saved, but whatever Hoseok did, it slapped Choi across his face and he realized what he did was wrong. Or it embarrassed him to the point, he agreed to the deal while he kept his eyes to himself and ended it without handshake or any physical contact.

It ended successfully. And you hope the same thing will happen with Hoseok.

When you park your car in front of the apartment building, the sky is already set dark while bright stars are sparkled across it. You can see his silver BMW parked couple of parking spots away from your car, meaning he’s home.

Of course, he is. Where else would he be? Your consciousness sassily remarks.

Making your way inside, you use the spare keys he gave you couple of months ago. This place brings nostalgia, no matter how many times you’ve been here, and it could be considered your second home. It reminds you this building, Hoseok’s apartment to be specific, has become a number one place for your secret rendezvous. Or it used to be back in the day, when you were too scared to go public and when it all began. Your secret relationship could cost you both your job, especially you since you’re the boss and you’re supposed to be the one who’s professional.

You can see Kim, the CEO, firing you for the lack of professionalism especially on your part. But you can also see him scolding Hoseok, firing him as well and somehow, that makes your heart pinch even more. Hoseok is one of the greatest employees, he barely fucks up. He’s one of the most reliable employees in the company, losing him would be the biggest mistake. And you certainly don’t want him to loose his job, and definitely not when it’d be because of you.

When you put his security password in, the front door click open and you push them, stepping into the comfort of his home. The familiar smell of it comforts your tensed nerves, hearing a little bit of rustling in the living room. Taking off your heals, you follow the sound knowing that’s where Hoseok is. And you find him.

He’s sitting on the yellowish chair, a glass of what seems like a bourbon in his hand. It makes your breath hitch, knowing he barely drinks and if he does, he really needs a drink to relax. You’re not stupid, of course it has something to do with what happened today.

Even when he sees you stepping into the light in his living room, he barely reacts and doesn’t seem too surprised to see you there. Instead, he looks away and takes a sip with a clenched jaw.

“Where did you go?” you ask him, your voice soft and filling the tension and silence in the room.

You watch him swallow the alcohol content, before he sets it down onto the small comforter next to him. It clicks and you almost jump from the intense sound, even though he's done it normally.

“Home.” he answers, voice cold and eyes lacking of the usual light he has in them.

He’s still wearing his work clothes, black slacks straining against his muscular thighs even more in the sitting position. The usual white shirt is unbuttoned more than usual, exposing his collarbones and little bit of buffed out chest. Even the black tie is loosened up, but still wrapped around his neck.

“With no notice? You can’t just storm out and go home, Hoseok.” you scold him, growing even more irritated when he smiles. He fucking smiles without even looking at you, fingers framing the rim of the glass.

“My deepest apologies.” he says, snorting right after as he finds it rather amusing.

It makes your blood boil all over again, wondering what the hell happened to him to act this way. He never had the audacity to storm out of his work, disrespecting you like this.

“You’re acting like an asshole, you know that?” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him as he finally looks at you, and frowns. “You disrespected me by leaving. Everyone noticed you were gone while I had to clean up the mess you caused. So don’t you dare being sarcastic and making fun of this situation because God help me, I’ll--“

“You’ll what? Fire me?” he cuts you off, raising his voice as he abruptly stands up. It takes him two steps to be standing in front of you, giving you a perfect opportunity to see his dark and angered eyes. “Do it. I dare you.” he says lowly, causing your mouth to hang open before he suddenly turns around and leaves the room.

You shiver, not expecting him to act this way. You surely knew he’d be angry, but you weren’t expecting him being like this. And it angers you even more.

So you follow him to the bathroom, glaring at him as he starts taking off his clothes, one piece after piece, letting you watch him until he’s fully naked. He’s turned with his back to you, and you don’t let your eyes drop to his ass, knowing you’d be distracted. He steps into the shower, turning it on while not glancing back at you, not even once. Walking closer, you lean against the shower door he didn’t close, and let out a deep sigh.

“I’m your boss, Hoseok. You can’t disrespect me like this because we--“ another sigh coming out of you, “If this wasn’t happening between us, you wouldn’t dare to do what you did today. I’m not talking about opening your mouth at Choi, but the fact you left without saying anything. And you didn’t even listen to me when I asked you to apologize. You don’t respect me as your boss, this is what I feared when we--“

“Well, you’re my girlfriend before you’re my boss.” he remarks, voice echoing and blending with the water hitting the tiles and his body.

“But I’m your boss when we’re working.” you remark back, knowing he knows you’re right.

You both settled on it, swearing you won’t be messing around when you’re working. No hidden touches, kisses or stares, so no one could tell that the two of you’ve been dating for months.

He ignores you, washing his body with one of his shower gels, one of your own sitting right next to his. Looking at your nails, you’re trying to kill some time since he’s successfully ignoring you and for a moment, you think about joining him. But as soon as you get the idea, he stops the water and steps out of the shower. Droplets of water trickles down his naked body, but it’s soon hidden from your eyes as he reaches for one of the towels and starts drying his body.

“So, you’re just gonna ignore me. Is that it?” you press, groaning when he turns his back to you and drops the towel carelessly onto the floor.

In other times, you’d scold him for doing it when the towel is wet and needs to get dry before it starts to stink of mildew.

Hoseok ignores you once again, making his way into his bedroom as he rummages through his clothes. Deciding you’ve had enough, just as he’s about to pull out one of his shirts, you smack the cabinet shut. He clenches his jaw, glaring at you but you only cross arms over your chest and raise a brow at you.

“I’m talking to you.” you point out, leaning against his dresser so he can’t open it again. You don’t care that he’s naked.

“I’m aware.” he grits through his clenched teeth, annoyed by your interruption and obvious scolding that you’re planning.

He doesn’t need this. He’s not a kid who needs to be scolded over something he’d do thousands of times to protect you. Maybe it’s not that serious to you, you’ve always worked hard and he knows how this deal means to you. But he won’t let it slide when he’s in the room, seeing thirteen years older man disgustingly eyeing you. Fuck, he wishes he’d punch his face right there.

“Y’know what? If you’re gonna act like this, they you should take a break. I’ll tell Kim that you’re sick or something. Get your act together or I’m gonna fire you, for real.” you spit, tired of this conversation and his attitude since it’s not going anywhere.

You’re just wasting your time here, knowing he won’t budge. Appearing strong right now, you know as soon as you’ll get home you’ll most likely open the bottle of wine while you’ll drink away your sorrow and anger at the same time. You’re both stubborn, but you can admit if you’re wrong. But you’re not this time, you’ve got your opinion on this and Hoseok has his own. There’s no other way how to solve this without fighting and you really don’t want that. As much as Hoseok pissed you off and his attitude was wrong, especially the way he treats you right now, you know once the both of you will cool down, everything’s going to be back to normal. It might take a few days, maybe even weeks, but you’d rather not think about that right now.

You don’t wait for his reaction, one look at his face and you might regret your words. You know you’re tough, but it’s your job to be his and other forty employees under you, their boss.

However, it seems like Hoseok doesn’t agree with you and he won’t let you get away, not when he sees the anger. He might be stubborn, but the last thing he wants for you to be upset over his attitude. Which doesn’t make any sense because he’d still do the same thing with Choi, maybe even punch his face this time. But it’s his anger and stubbornness that makes him want to ignore you and not to listen to your endless scolding.

So, he grabs your forearm and stops you before you can take another step from him. His grip isn’t tight or painful, just enough to keep you in place in case you’d walk away again. He stares at you, dark orbs dancing across your face and you wonder what is he thinking, judging the darkened look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare to walk away from me.” Is all he says, although he sounds less angry than before and more worried by you leaving him.

“What, like you did to me?” you scoff, eyes daring him to act. And he does.

Quickly, he grabs your cheeks causing your lips to pucker as he keeps staring into your eyes. “That smart and bratty mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day.” he growls, eyes dropping to your lips before they’re back on your eyes.

Your body shivers as lust evokes inside of you, lightening out of nowhere at the sight of him manhandling you. Dating him for a few months, nine months to be exact, you know he’d never grabbed you out of nowhere, out of pure anger. He never touched you that way, never hurt you and was rough without your contest. And you know he’s getting turned on by your and his anger as well. He lets you go, your cheeks slightly hurting but you love it. He sees the way your eyes mimic his, darkening a familiar shade of dark while they sparkle with interest and lust.

“Well, that smart and bratty mouth got you out of trouble today.” you point out smartly, knowing it’ll provoke him even more.

The double meaning behind your words make him groan, even though he knows you’d never do what he just thought about. Just the image of you using your mouth the way he wants you to right now, is driving him insane and burns with jealousy. He’s angry. Angry because he can’t shout in front of his colleagues that you’re his. He can’t scream at Namjoon for making comments about how beautiful you look, or him saying that they’ve the hottest boss. Even when he agrees with him, because you’re the most beautiful and hottest woman he's ever laid his eyes on, he doesn’t like hearing other man saying it. Certainly, if Namjoon knew he’d never speak about you like that, even though he never said something disrespectful. Namjoon is a nice guy who can appreciate beautiful women, it just sucks you’re one of them.

Hoseok growls, growing tired of how you’re testing him and the cocky little smirk you’re trying to hide from him when you got the reaction you wanted. He grabs you by the back of your neck, pushing your body in the direction of his bed. As soon as the back of your knees meet the edge of his mattress, you stumble and you’re ready to fall down onto his bed, he still holds you tighter by the back of your neck while your arms instinctively grab his forearms.

“Turn around,” he orders, voice loud and clear as you gulp in response.

And you listen, scolding yourself for doing it so easily, but it’s too late for that. You’re turning around, eyes met with the grey wall instead while you feel his hands on the zipper of your pencil dress. Your whole body jerks when he opens it furiously, almost ripping the expensive material before your back is exposed to him. He hums, most probably at your white lingerie that he hasn’t seen yet. Let’s say, you had other plans tonight and different image of celebrating a successful deal. It involved Hoseok and nice dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.

His hand touches your back, the nails slowly grazing your skin as he presses into your skin, making you whimper. You can feel yourself getting wet by each second and move he makes. It’s incredible how responsive you’re to him, one of his favorite things about you, like he told you before. The low amused chuckle is the prove of it, and you think he’s going to be painfully slow with you, making sure you feel the frustration he felt. Surprisingly, he doesn’t waste time and pulls down your dress harshly, causing you to stumble but his strong arms and body that’s behind you, steadies you. And you smile at that. No matter how angry or dominant he appears to be, he’s always having your back.

But the smile doesn’t last long when he turns around and you’re met with his angry eyes again. The flames in them makes your stomach bubble with anticipation and you feel your juices flooding past your folds, wetting your underwear. With one single poke to your shoulders, he’s sending you to his mattress as he watches you yelp in shock, laying in front of him. He stares at you, eyeing the lacy bralette that you’re wearing matching your white panties that wraps around your curves. Fuck, it’s almost sheer and if he tried harder, he could probably see your pussy. He almost wants to ask if that’s a new lingerie, but he knows the answer to that anyway.

“Sit up,” he orders you, looking down at you like you’re the dirtiest person he ever looked at.

It should hurt your confidence, but it doesn’t. It makes you filthy and you love it. And you listen to him, slowly sitting up as you keep looking up at him. He’s so close to you, you can feel the warmth coming out of his body and the delicious smell of his shower gel makes you dizzy. He knows you love the manly smell he always holds. You let your eyes drop down, knowing very well what’s in front of you, and you almost salivate at the sight of his length. He’s not fully hard yet, but he’s getting there.

“You know what to do.” Is all he says, head nodding towards his big cock. It’s not the biggest in the world, but just the right size to make you whimper anytime he enters you. He’s definitely bigger than average and you almost choke at the simple thought of having him in your mouth.

There were so many times that you wish you could taste him in your office, locking your door just in case, but you kept those thoughts to yourself. You know it never ends well whenever someone starts fucking around. It’d be just a matter of time before someone caught onto your hidden relationship. You’re not protecting just yourself, but Hoseok as well. As much as he wanted to be vocal about the two of you, you won’t let him get into trouble because of it. You’re aware that he’s more than willing to do so, but you can’t let him ruin a good job. It’d take him months to find something even remotely good like his current job is. He’d never get paid so well, like he’s getting right now.

Your mouth curls into the slyest smirk, and your eyes flicker up to his before you say; “Do you?”

He groans grabbing the back of your head as he pulls you closer, dangerously close to his hardening length while you dryly swallow. “Don’t test me, love.” he warns you, your insides bubbling with excitement.

So, you don’t test him. For now.

Grabbing his length, you ignore the way your core clenches at the feeling of his velvety hardening skin, you earn a soft groan from him in response. You give it a few tugs before you spit into your hand, coating it with your saliva before you cover his length in it. You don’t look at him, but you can feel his burning gaze as he watches you doing something so dirty. No one would guessed that the firm and stern young boss could be so filthy, yet innocent and obedient. Pumping him, you let your thumb slide over his tip every now and then, knowing how much he loves when you do that. You’re stopped when he grabs his dick, the other hand tilting your chin as he caresses your bottom lip. He traces it with his thumb, appreciating the soft and plump flesh before he brings your head even closer to him. He’s harsh, yet caresses your head in silent praise. In seconds, you feel his tip against your lips and the precum that’s drooling out of his tip.

“Put it in your mouth,” he orders. If he notices your mouth salivating, he doesn’t mock you for it and you swallow, before taking him into your mouth.

Your mouth stretches around his head, savoring the taste of him causing you to moan. You can hear the low chuckle coming from the back of his throat, but you’re not embarrassed about it. You know he loves it. You suck his head, twirling your tongue around it before you pull out to swallow just for you to dive back, taking more of him. With each pump and suck you make, you barely hear any sounds coming from him, but that’s just how it is when it comes to Hoseok. He’s really strong when it comes to being vocal in bed and whenever you get the littlest moan or groan, you get all proud of yourself for making him do that.

“Not so smart anymore, huh?” he mocks you, causing your eyes to flick up as you glare at him. But the sight only makes him amused, his cock in your mouth while you’re trying to give him the biggest glare.

So fucking cute, he thinks before he stops you from sucking him. “Now be a good girl and take it.” he tells you, tilting your head slightly up as he instructs you to open your mouth.

Your core clenches, knowing very well what’s about to happen. You hold your breath, hearing your heart beating in your eardrums so loud that you can barely hear the littlest sighs he gives you, while he nestles his hardened length in your mouth. When he’s all in, you try your hardest not to choke at the feeling of him being in your throat. Automatically, you wrap your mouth around him before he sets a quick pace, not waiting for you to adjust some more. With each thrust he delivers to your throat, it makes you shut your eyes while you press your thighs together. His balls smack against your chin, the sound is so forbidden and dirty that it makes you clench around nothing. Oh fuck, you wish you could feel some relief.

Saliva coats your mouth, drooling down his length and balls while he fucks your throat. He delivers a brutal and further thrust, causing you to choke while you’re trying to pull away from him. But he’s not having it, not allowing you to rest as he keeps fucking your throat. Your nails dig into his naked thighs, letting him do whatever he wants. He’s close, you can feel him throbbing in your mouth and it’d take him a few more minutes before he’d cum down your throat. And you wonder if he’ll do that, using you to make himself cum and then leaving you high and dry. But he has never done that. No matter how brutal and dominant he seems, he really puts your pleasure first and even if he didn’t notice your clenched thighs, he wouldn’t allow himself to do this. It’s not the first time he’s fucking your throat, but it doesn’t happen as often as someone would think.

He pulls away, watching saliva connecting his cock and your mouth before you wipe it away with the back of your hand, with chest heaving for some air. He doesn’t let you rest for a minute, grabbing your cheeks once again as he puckers your lips. “You might be my boss in the company, but don’t forget who’s the boss behind these door.” he says lowly, making sure his every word is audible and clear.

He lets you go, your tongue instantly wetting your lips and you can’t take your eyes off him. He’s so fucking beautiful, even when he has those flames in his eyes and the firm line between his eyebrows as he glares at you.

“Lay down,” he barks suddenly, your body jerking at the sudden command and his eyes soften for a solid second, before he glares at you again.

Laying down slowly, he almost whines at the sight of you being so delicate with every move you make. You’re not jumping straight into action, showing him how much you want to feel his hands on you or anything he can give you, you’re careful and slow like a little lamb. He almost wants to laugh at his thoughts, but it’s enough to make his length twitch as he takes your lingerie into sight. Your legs are bent at the edge of bed, spreaded by Hoseok’s arms before he kneels in front of you.

He starts prepping kisses from your calves up to your knees, paying attention to your left leg as he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He’s making sure you see him, and his dark brown eyes that glare at you despite of his soft and delicate touch. That’s until he comes up to your inner thigh, biting the soft flesh making you whimper. He’s punishing you for today, from letting Choi kiss your cheek and watch something that’s his, to threatening to fire him. You know he won’t let that slide so easily, but you love every second of what he’s doing right now.

He slowly moves up, head right between your legs, you can feel his breath fanning your covered heat where you anticipate his touch the most. But that wouldn’t be fun, no. That would be too easy, to just give you pleasure you’re searching and waiting for. He hovers over you like a snake, watching you like you’re his prey before his mouth hovers over yours. The need to kiss him, feel those soft pillows of his in the shape of heart, is so strong that you automatically lift your head to meet them. But he dodges your attempt to kiss him by simply lifting his head more. Whining, he stares at you with neutral eyes, almost as if he’s saying ‘this is your fault’. His mouth ghosts over your neck, licking the skin before he moves to your chest. He adores the soft white lace that contrasts with your skin tone, making you look like an angel. Too bad that you’re the complete opposite. Hooking his fingers under the white material, he tugs it down all quick and harsh, causing you to yelp as the material scratches against your skin. He frees your breast, smirking when your nipple is already puckered and screaming for attention. He does the same thing with the other, letting your bralette rest underneath your breasts without taking it off. First, he starts licking the bud, twirling his tongue over it until it reddens. When he’s satisfied with how it looks, especially when he sees you curving your back to meet his lips even more, he does the same thing with the other breast.

He’s about to ruin you. You know that, his mouth is painfully slow and intense, he knows how impatient you’re getting when your pelvic bone meets his firm stomach. He holds your hips down, sending you another set of glare almost as if he’s warning you. All you can do is enjoy that and be thankful for everything he’s offering you. And you do, you let him lick and suck your nipples until they’re sensitive, not paying attention of him being so dangerously slow. When he sees that, seeing how you’re enjoying yourself instead of whining and arching your back for him, he grows frustrated. When you least expect it, he bites onto your nipple while he pinches the other between his fingers, causing you to yelp.

He pulls away, letting go off your nipples with a loud smack of his mouth before he sends you a glare. “Stop enjoying yourself. This is supposed to be a punishment.” he slaps your breast, causing you to yelp again before you giggle.

Fuck, the sound of your giggle makes him go all soft and when he sees you smiling at him from such submissive position, he wants nothing but to kiss you.

He raises his brow, diving his head to the other breast to do the same thing and you quickly protest, but he’s quicker and already biting the nipple. You cry out from the pain, but it goes away quickly and you’re left with euphoric feeling of lust. He sees you breathing in and out, savoring the feeling from what had just happened before he goes back to his knees. He stretches your legs apart even more, bending them at the edge of his bed as he takes a good sniff of your arousal. You know he can smell it, fuck if you just sat down you could probably smell yourself as well. He flickers his eyes to yours, and they say it all. He knows. The corner of his mouth twitches but he doesn’t allow himself to break his current state, and he presses his face between your legs instead. His nose pokes your clit, causing you to bite your lip as he licks you through the fabric. Moaning, you arch your back all over again, too eager to feel his mouth on you. Deep down, you know he’s not going to give in so easily. Maybe eventually, but nothing’s easy when it comes to Hoseok.

“Please,” you whimper pathetically, toes curling in a desperation.

“Hm, not so bossy anymore, huh?” He has the audacity to mock you, even laughing at you while you’re close to loosing it all.

“Jung.” you bark at him, using that one nickname he hates whenever it leaves your mouth. It’s just a reminder of work and your situation, knowing you call him that in work.

And he doesn’t like it, no he hates it and decides to deliver you a proper slap to your left thigh as you gasp at him. You could’ve guessed this was about to happen, but your mind is clouded with no one else than Jung Hoseok.

“Okay, Daddy.” you joke, knowing he hates that too and when he sees you cackling at him, he growls and gives you another slap. This one is much more intense and it makes you shut up right away.

It started as a simple conversation over red wine including sex talk, which slowly lead to a inside joke. Hoseok’s face that was scrunched in a weird grimace when the whole ‘Daddy’ kink came up is still clear in your mind, and you like to tease him about it from time to time. Maybe, right now isn’t the right time to do that, but you couldn’t help it. You’re a little minx, you like teasing him when he’s so worked up. You love getting on his nerves because you can, because he allows you until he punishes you for it.

You shiver when you feel his hands tracing the hem of your panties, humming softly to himself before he tears it off you. By that, you mean literally ripping the fabric, until two pieces of clothing ends up in his hands and he grins at you in a pure triumph. All you see is red, not believing what he just did.

“Hoseok!” you exclaim, plopping yourself onto elbows to scowl at him. “Those were new and expensive!”

It’s cliché, but it’s true. They really were on the more expensive side, and if it weren’t for your boyfriend and his love for seeing you wearing lingerie, you wouldn’t buy it. You’d probably stick to your H&M ones without doubt, not caring if your bra and panties match.

“That’s what you get by acting like a brat,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders like it’s no big deal. “Now shut up if you want me to taste you.”

Pursing your lips, you really want to talk back at him and give him a piece of your mind for ruining such an expensive lingerie that was meant for his eyes, not for him to rip it in seconds. But you just want to feel his mouth against your heat, where you need him the most, so you decide to shut up for now. He rewards you, kissing your clit before gives it a little nibble causing you to hiss, both in pain and pleasure.

“Oh, fuck.” you moan out, head thrown back as you arch for him. Grinding against his mouth, he slaps the top of your thigh with a disapproving hum causing you to whine. As long as you want him to keep going, you need to keep your mouth shut just like he asked.

Leaning slightly back, he stares at your heat and you watch his eyes darken at the current state of your pink pussy. He sees the juices glistening your lower lips as it tricks out of your tight hole down your ass. Biting his lower lip, he releases it as he parts your folds and stares at you with hungered eyes. Automatically, it makes you clench and he sees it right away, noticing your need. He lets go, making himself more comfortable before he finally fulfills your wish and licks a long stripe, catching your arousal onto his tongue. He swallows it, tasting it on his buds as he lets out an appreciative groan. Deciding he’s not having enough, he goes back to licking you but this time makes sure he sucks your clit every now and then. Your whole body shivers and as soon as he enters his tongue into your tight hole, you’re a moaning mess. He makes you see stars, which is nothing new but still feels like it, you could never get enough of this man. With tongue inside of you and thumb circling your clit, you feel yourself so close to cumming. When your hand goes into Hoseok’s brown locks and tugs onto his roots, he knows it’s just a matter of time before you let go. And he wants to feel you tightening around him, clenching repeatedly as cum gushes out of you and he can taste you some more.

Too bad you were acting like a bitch today.

Of course, he knows where you were coming from and realizes how important your job is to you. Mostly, he’s angry and irritated by the fact he can’t hold your hands or kiss you in front of his colleagues, even though it’d be inappropriate in a place work. But he’s not going to lie, he was quite surprised by you threatening to fire him. He knows you wouldn’t do that, you want him to have this job and that’s why you insist on keeping your relationship a secret. And he agrees, because it means Kim would fire the both of you or he’d change your position but not for the better, obviously. And you’ve worked so hard to get where you’re right now, he wouldn’t allow it. And he knows keeping you as a secret is the most intelligent thing to do.

Just as your toes curl and right leg starts to shake, he knows you’re about to cum in seconds and just as he feels you tightening around his muscle, he pulls away with a smirk. You whine, looking at him with a question in your eyes. But once you see the familiar smirk of cockiness decorating his glowing face, you know he did it on purpose.

That fucker.

He stands up, length slapping against his stomach before he turns you around with his strong arms. You giggle, but it dies down when he puts you on all four and slaps your ass. It jiggles from the slap and goes to grab his length as he gives himself a few pumps.

Before you can look back, wondering what he’s doing, he’s already diving back and eating you out again. With your forehead pressed against the mattress, you gasp a soft moans into his sheets that smell like him. Fuck, your clit is already so sensitive and the orgasm that’s approaching is so freaking close. It makes you clench the sheets between your hands as you grind against his mouth, whimpering his name over and over again.

“I’m cumming,” you whine, tears pricking your eyes but before you can finally get the last push you need to let go, he’s pulling away again. “No!” you whimper, sobbing into his sheets.

You feel him hovering over you, his naked chest pressed against your back while his hardened cock brushes against your ass, his mouth hovers over your ear. He doesn’t touch you, nor kisses you into the hair like he usually does. He’s punishing you probably more than he thinks he does. All you can feel is his hot breath fanning one side of your face.

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” he chuckles, not waiting for any response before he’s pulling himself off you just to go back.

However, this time he caresses your ass before he takes off your bralette. Luckily, he doesn’t rip it like he did to your panties and throws it somewhere on the floor. He spreads your ass cheeks, thumb grazing your puckered hole as you flinch.

“What--“

“Hush,” he shushes you, licking your puckered hole that makes you gasp in utter shock. It feels so fucking good, his tongue circling your puckered hole is enough to make you clench around nothing. “What do you want, boss?” he asks, mockingly saying the little nickname with a little venom in his voice.

And you want to talk back, mocking him back by saying; “Aren’t you the boss right now?”

But you don’t.

“Your fingers.”

“My fingers?” he laughs while saying it, shaking his head that you can’t see right now. “Aren’t you little greedy?”

“Please, Hobi. I need you, I’m sorry.” you almost sob, voice cracking and for a moment, you feel him tense behind you. He wonders if he crossed any lines because he never heard you sob in bed. No matter how brutal and dominant he was, you never were in this state. But then he sees your tight hole clenching and unclenching and he audibly sighs in relief.

“But are you really?” he decides do ask, his voice shifting while you nod furiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” you whine, wiggling your ass in the air that makes him chuckle.

“So needy,” he comments and before you can curse at him, he licks your puckered hole again but this time enters your pussy with two fingers.

You gasp, not expecting that while your walls stretch around his two digits. He sets the pace slow this time, and you like to think he’s done it to let you adjust to the sudden stretch. The feeling of his fingers is indescribable, they brush against your sensitive walls so deliciously that you almost cry out loud. However, the slow and intense pace he set doesn’t stay for too long and he starts to pull out just to slam his fingers right back, into the wetness and warmth of your clenched walls. With tongue still circling around your ass, the combination of both — his fingers and tongue — drives you insane. Your legs tremble and you feel like you could burst any second. Praying he’d let you finish is all you can hope for, but as if he could read your mind, he stops when your moans intensify in the form of approaching orgasm.

“I can’t,” you whimper, laying down on your back while he lets you. Two dark orbs stare at you with curiosity and maybe hidden worry, at the sight of your disheveled hair and naked trembling body. “Why are you so mean?” you ask him, pouting at him and his attempt of edging you.

“Am I the one who’s mean?” he asks back, raising a brow at you while he hovers over you. His hot breath fans your face and you close your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t kiss you even if you tried to. “Open your eyes, love.” he tells you softly, causing you to do what he asked.

His eyes dance all over your face, primarily focusing on your eyes, although you see the sudden drop at your lips. Almost as if he shook himself out of the little trance, he looks back at you with softness.

“That’s how you made me feel today,” he informs you, hand reaching for your cheek before he gives it a few strokes. “You drive me crazy, so fucking crazy that all I could think about it bending you over that huge desk of yours and fuck you. Fuck you, so Choi could hear your moans, but most importantly, It’d be my name he hears.”

Your body shivers, his chest brushing against your perked nipples and if you weren’t so aroused, you’d probably feel embarrassed by your current vulnerability. However, you know there’s no need to ever feel embarrassed, not in front of Hoseok at least. He always made sure of that.

Maybe it’s the visual thought of what he just told you that makes your inside clench with fire, the one only Hoseok can light up. The fantasy is forbidden and a huge no for the both of you, but that’s what it has to be. Fantasy. You know it makes Hoseok annoyed as well, not that he doesn’t get to fuck you over your work desk. This is not a movie and people often get caught in reality doing that. It’s a work place, not a place to have dirty office sex. What makes him so annoyed that you’ve to keep your relationship hidden, even though you both know it’s the best option.

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” you speak, voice light and gentle despite of your current positions. You can feel his hard length pressed against your stomach and even if it sets another flame inside of you, you stay still.

Hoseok frowns in confusion, wondering what do you mean by that. Smiling up at him, you open your mouth before he’s going to wake up with couple of wrinkles from all that frowning.

“He kept his distance and barely looked me in the eye. No matter how unprofessional of you was saying such thing straight into his face, it worked.” You don’t fail to give him that look of a raised brow, which he returns with another glare.

Your hands slowly move to his back, finally touching his hot and soft skin while he doesn’t even budge. He watches you, letting you caressing his exposed back and no matter what he’s thinking right now, you keep being quiet. He leans down, lips pressing against your neck before he moves to the spot between your shoulder and neck. You don’t think much about it, appreciating how his lips feel on your neck, even though you’d rather feel them pressed against yours. Considering what he just did to your butt hole, you’re not so sure of that anymore. What you don’t expect, is the sharp pain that pierces to your skin and it lets you gasp into the air. He fucking bit you.

Not hard enough to actually tear the delicate and thin layer of your skin, but just enough to make it hurt. It’s long forgotten when your body shivers with lust, reminding you of your intimate position.

“Mine,” he murmurs against your skin before he gives it a few smooches. “I won’t let anyone have you.”

His words are not possessive, you know Hoseok isn’t like that. Yes, he gets jealous and you’re sure it has to do something with your secret relationship between boss and employee. But his words are nothing but gentle and loving. He knows you’re not his property or anything close to it. But he likes to think you’re it for him. Nine months of secret dates that escalated to dates and having sex almost every night, which ended with the two of you dating. It still feels fresh, yet it’s familiar and it’s everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

“Good,” you murmur, hugging him closer to you and caging his body with your legs. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He smiles, you feel those heart shapes lips stretch against your skin and it’s enough to make you do the same thing. His hands goes down between your bodies as he adjust himself, before you feel his tip against your entrance. He looks at you, recognizing that lower lip biting and sparkles in your eyes as a green light and when you urge him with your heels digging into his lower back, he chuckles and slowly enters you. Both moaning, your foreheads meet while he starts to fill you up with his incredibly hard and amazing length. When he bottoms out, you gasp at the stretch mixed with pleasure and pain, and you curve your back for him. Giving you a few seconds to adjust, he slowly pulls out before he thrusts in with much more strength and intensity. He pulls away, his length still nestled inside of you, before he pushes your legs against your chest. The new position causes him to get even deeper and you gasp at the new feeling. He smirks before he sets a brutal pace and starts fucking you, your head spinning at the pleasure he’s able to give you. What seemed like a romantic and loving moment is turned into another dominant fucking ass bomb sex. You can feel your arousal prickling down your ass, staining his nice smelling sheets and you feel almost sorry that he’ll have to wash them as soon as you’re done.

Your orgasm was denied so much that you can barely take him, the animalistic pace makes you see stars and your walls clench so tightly around him that you can feel every little vein on his cock. With a few brushed against your sensitive spot and him hitting all the right places that makes it feel like he’s in your stomach, you’re cumming without notice. Repeatedly clenching and unclenching around him, your whole body shudders as he groans at the tight feeling. When you’re done, he stops and slowly pulls out, letting your legs drop and rest.

“Did you just cum?” he asks, eyes widened in bewilderment like he hasn’t been edging you for hours. Okay, maybe it hasn’t been hours, but it surely felt like it.

Rolling your eyes at him, you’re met with a single raise of his brow that makes you sigh. “Of course, I did. I was about to cum for the last twenty minutes and maybe I’d cum sooner if it weren’t for the little stunt you pulled.” you remark sassily, not noticing the fact he’s still hard and nowhere done with you.

All you can focus on is your own breathing and the way your body finally relaxed. And your mind might be clouded with a little annoyed towards him for stopping your orgasm before it could even happen. You wish you’d pay more attention to your surroundings and none other than Hoseok, because the sudden twitch of his eyebrow means nothing but danger. In one swift movement your whole body is turned around, stomach hitting the mattress as you yelp in surprise.

“What the hell--“

“Quiet,” Slap.

Your ass aches from the sudden slap, your mouth falling open as you gasp in shock.

“You think we’re done?” he growls, grabbing the sides of your ass before he’s pulling you up. With your ass in the air, he delivers another slap to your other cheek with the same sting.

“I can’t--Hobi--“

“Don’t Hobi me,” he barks, spanking you again making you cry out. “I think you forgot something, Y/N.”

You shiver at the sound of your name leaving his lips. Looking back at him and finding him just behind you, he leans down once again while he licks his lower lips.

“I’m the boss here.” he smirks and before you can even open your mouth, he’s slapping you again.

Throwing your head back into the mattress you gasp, feeling him stroking the red and sensitive flesh. You almost purr at his hands caressing your ass in soft circles. Maybe he’s done it to help ease the pain, or maybe it’s just the part of distraction before he enters you in all go. Your sensitive walls clench around him, your whole core burning with overstimulation but you don’t stop him. You let him enter you by relaxing your muscles and taking him in. Your muscles ache from tiredness but you don’t let that stop you. The overstimulation is uncomfortable, leaving you whimpering into Hoseok’s sheets with sweat dripping down your back. You’re sure your hair must be coated in sweat, but that’s the least of your worries right now. There’s no space to focus on anything else, other than Hoseok’s length driving in and out of you with no mercy. His hands are settled on your hips, making sure you don’t loose balance that your weak knees barely have. He grips you tightly, almost like he fears you’re going to leave. Soon enough, the shots of pleasure shoots right into your core and the low whimpering turns into moaning Hoseok’s name over and over again.

“You’re wonderful,” he groans behind you, letting his voice mix with the sound of your and his skin meeting each other and your moans. The praise makes you proud and confident, pursing your ass at him how much you can. “So fucking stubborn,” he growls, slapping your ass with his right hand while the other one stays clasped around your hip. “But I love you so fucking much.” he almost whimpers, like it’s the dirtiest secret he has ever told.

“I love you.” you gasp into the sheets, your sensitive walls pulsating around him while his length starts to throb inside you. He’s close.

“Maybe I should fuck a baby into you, so Choi and everyone else would know you're mine.” he growls, your heart almost jumping out of your chest from his words. He has never said something like that, it's the first time you hear him saying something about baby and you in the same sentence. But the image of you carrying his child makes you shiver with excitement.

“Yes!” you gasp, not believing you'd just be absolutely fine with it if it happened. Which shouldn't and you both rely on the birth control you're taking every day. But still, the thought of Hoseok fucking baby into you is explicit and absolutely incredible.

His hand slowly wraps around your neck, leaving your breath hitching as he gives you a few testing squeezes. Once he hears you letting out a low moan, he knows you’re okay with it. While he focuses on his thrusts, picking up his pace, he squeezes your neck as cuts some of the oxygen. Your eyes roll back, jolts of pleasure shooting straight through you. The second time of tonight, you’re cumming around him with a huge gasp and moan. This orgasm isn’t as long as the first one was, but it’s much more intense.

A few seconds later, Hoseok’s thrusts halt and his length starts twitching before he’s cumming inside of you, letting himself plugged around your walls while he coats them. It's warm and the feeling of his cum inside of you makes you feel so full. He gives couple of lazy thrusts before he’s pulling his and your body down to bed. He pulls you closer, his chest pressed against your back while he pulls out. Feeling his cum dropping down, you both don’t care about the possibility of making even more mess. How can you care when he kisses your temple and cuddles to you even more.

You’re both sweaty, and you both stink of sweat and sex, but none of you move. Staying like this for a few minutes in a complete silence with Hoseok’s occasional kisses to your cheek and shoulder, he hums in appreciate as he cuddles to you even more. He’s crushing you with his strong hold against your delicate body, but you don’t tell him anything.

“Fire me.” he says, causing you to tense around his arms immediately.

What the hell is he talking about?

“What?” you chuckle, getting out of his hold to turn around and face him. At first, you think he must be joking. But when you see his face and how serious he looks, you know it’s not just another one of his jokes.

“I’m serious,” he tells you, “Fire me.”

“Hobi, I was joking.” you clarify, fearing he took your words way too seriously. Yes, you were angry but both of you knew you were just bluffing and speaking out of anger. You’d never fire him.

“I know you were, love,” he assures you, placing another sweet kiss to your forehead. He takes your hand, fidgeting with your fingers while you stare at him with doe and big eyes. “But I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I know that’s what we settled on because our job, but if that’s what keeps me away from kissing you or at least talking to you about your day without suspiciously looking over my back, I don’t want it. I don’t want that.”

Hoseok’s words and voice are sincere and honest, not sad like you’d guessed if he ever talked about something like this.

“But you love your job.” you point out, not being able to imagine Hoseok doing something different. Even if it was a similar job, he belongs to Kim Enterprise.

“But I love you more.” he argues immediately, pulling your hand to his mouth as he kisses your knuckles.

“I won’t fire you. Ever.” you tell him sternly, not liking the idea. You know where he’s coming from, but you won’t allow him to drop his job because of you.

“Then I’ll leave. I’ll see Kim on Monday.”

“Hoseok, no!” you exclaim, sitting up as his hands slide off you by your sudden movements. He sighs, turning himself on his back while he stares at the ceiling and lets out the deepest sigh. “I won’t let you do that. We’ll figure out something. I’ll talk to Kim and tell him what happened--“

“No, he’ll fire you or drop you out of your position.” he disagrees right away.

But you can’t seem to be angry, not when he stares at you with those soft brown eyes full of adoration and love.

“Look at us,” you chuckle, his brows shooting up. “We’re both willing to make some sacrifices but won’t let the other do the same thing.”

At that, he lets out a small chuckle but he gives you a soft smile. “Yeah, is that how love feels like?” he asks with a little laugh.

“I’m not sure, but it could definitely be described like it,” you laugh, shaking your head at your conversation. “But don’t worry. I’ll tell him we love each other and no matter how he’s going to react, we’ll figure it out.” you tell him, reaching for his hair as you brush your fingers through it.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, doubt laced in his voice and eyes.

“Of course,” you tell him, “I love you. I think it’s time to stop hiding. It was unprofessional of us to get together. I don’t think it’d matter that much if we were colleagues. But since I’m your boss, people might think I went easy on you or something. And I’m ready for those kind of words.” you shrug.

People in the company will talk, it’s going to be one of the biggest gossips and you won’t avoid weird stares of curiosity and disapproval. But you don’t care. Hoseok is worth it.

“I know that, that’s why I’m scared for you to do this.” Hoseok admits.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m a big girl, I’ll manage.”

“I know that too, I just don’t want anyone to hurt you.” he says.

“They won’t hurt me.” you assure him, heart swelling at his thoughtfulness.

“That’s how it is for me, y’know, I love you and I’m willing to do anything to stop hiding. You’re the it for me, Y/N. It’s quite scary because I’ve never felt about anyone this way. But I can imagine you being mine, like properly mine. I can see us living together and getting married, fuck, I can imagine us having kids.” he gasps at his own words, realization setting on his face while you laugh at his expression.

His words filling your heart with more love and adoration. “We’ve known each other for nine months and here you are, mentioning marriage and kids.” you joke, watching him as he sits down.

“We’ve known each other for two years. We’ve been dating for nine months.” he corrects you, almost sounds as if he’s scolding you for not saying the correct time and that makes you laugh again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Jung. I meant two years.” you roll your eyes, leaning to him to finally kiss him but he dodges your kiss and pulls away.

Frowning, he chuckles at you and pokes your nose. “I’ve licked your asshole. Do you really want me to kiss you?” he asks, snorting when he sees your horrific expression.

“Way to ruin the moment.” you murmur, causing him to laugh as he stands up. He starts to stretching his muscles, moaning at the feeling as he reaches for his clothes.

“I’m gonna run us a bath, you good?” he asks, eyes flickering between your legs and the mess there.

“Bath sounds good and yeah, I’ll manage.” you smile.

“You need help?” he asks you, not bothering to put on his clothes but he still picks up your own.

“No, thanks. But you could help me by brushing your teeth and then kiss me. I missed your kisses today.” you pout, causing him to laugh but he has that look of proudness.

“Oh, poor baby. I’ll do that. You should get that pretty ass out of bed and join me in a few minutes.” he tells you, sending you a kiss when you nod.

Watching his naked perky ass, he walks out of the bedroom and goes to run the bath for the both of you. A few seconds later and you hear him turning on the water while you’re still sitting on his bed, and ruined sheets, with an idiotic smile adoring your lips.

If it weren’t for Hoseok’s big mouth and Choi’s inappropriate staring, you wouldn’t probably talk about your relationship going public. At least not anytime soon. You knew you’d eventually, and as much as you knew how much Hoseok loves you, you weren’t just sure if you’re at that stage. It turns out you are and you couldn’t be happier. So not wasting any more time, you stand up with a wobbly legs and ache between them. You join your boyfriend, finding him standing naked in front of the sink while spitting out water, smirking at you before he finally kisses you.

Fuck, you’re so whipped for this man. You might be his boss, maybe not for long, but he’s definitely the boss when it comes to your sex life. And your heart.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope au #jung hoseok au #bts x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop au #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok scenario #jhope smut #jhope x reader #bts hoseok #bts jhope #kpop scenarios

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the-last-kenobi · 4 years ago

Note

I adore your qui gon and obi wan stuff so can we get a number 8 on the prompt list with obi wan and qui gon?

Absolutely!! I’m so glad you chose that one; I’ve loved every single prompt I’ve gotten but this one breaks the mold a little.

I hope this lives up to your expectations!

From this various prompts list.

When Qui-Gon Jinn set foot on the planet of Melida/Daan for the second time, he had a fixed set of expectations.

He expected to find the same war-torn, shattered homes and abused soil, the same decimated populations, the same stench of death. He expected to find the underground hideouts where the children hid from the wrath of their parents, and where the Melida plotted against the Daan and the Daan against the Melida. He expected to find a bruised and shame-faced former Jedi Padawan, ready to humble himself before the Council.

He expected to have to offer both comfort and stern reprimand to this child who, as much of a delight as he had once been, no longer deserved to be his apprentice.

And he did find some of that.

He also found fields of green grass, and abandoned fields of half-plucked vegetation and fruits.

A memorial garden.

A row of corpses covered neatly in cloths, lining the road, respectfully untouched.

Faded posters announcing committees and treaties and open elections, speeches and remembrance services.

A mural on a stone wall, somewhere between impressionist and abstract, of a line of children and adults, the children in the center. Towards the very middle, almost exactly so, was the image of a young boy with pale russet locks hanging an inch loose, and Qui-Gon paused, observing warily as if the image might come to life and attack him.

But it was only an image, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a wayward child.

And none of this is was going as anticipated.

The Jedi Master tried to recall what Yoda had told him before chivvying him out the door, but in truth he had not processed much of it aside from Obi-Wan’s name and the understanding that he had asked to be retrieved from Melida/Daan.

Why?

Clearly things had changed, immensely — and yet, in the background, the continued sound of bombs going off and weapons firing, and not a living being in sight.

Qui-Gon continued deeper into the core of the civilization, skirting the worst of the ruins but avoiding the main road in a passing effort to go unnoticed.

It did not last long.

“Master Jedi!” a voice hissed out suddenly, and Qui-Gon turned sharply to see a young man — maybe nineteen, at most — peering at him around the corner of the nearest building, pressed close to the wall. He gestured shortly and vanished.

Qui-Gon took a moment to cast out his senses. The Force bore no distinct warning, so he crossed the road quickly and ducked around the corner.

The young man was waiting for him. Up close it was clear that he was younger than he had appeared, perhaps seventeen, just emerging from the gangly limbs stage, and he was coated in dirt and grime — some of it oddly strategic, smeared across his cheekbones and the crown of his forehead, darkening and muting them. Dark hazel eyes considered Qui-Gon suspiciously.

“You were expecting me,” Qui-Gon stated.

The boy nodded. “I was. Obi-Wan said you would be arriving today, maybe tomorrow.”

A strange jolt ran through Qui-Gon. He had not said Obi-Wan’s name aloud himself, not since that day almost eight months before, and while he had heard other Jedi mention it, it was off-putting to hear this total stranger use it. So familiarly. Like he knew Kenobi well. Qui-Gon brushed the thoughts aside like so many cobwebs and spoke again: “Well, here I am. Where next?”

He did not say, ‘Where is Obi-Wan?’

For some reason, it would have felt like a confession.

The boy pressed his lips into a flat line, as if the Jedi had failed some sort of test. “…I’ll show you. Stick close to me and don’t do anything reckless. Stealth is our best ally right now. Only ally, really.”

Qui-Gon wondered what he was, then, since he was certainly not included in this mysterious “we.”

It was slightly insulting, and sharply painful, to be lectured on strategic maneuvers by what amounted to a child soldier.

Nevertheless, Qui-Gon followed him.

They wound their way through the settlement, bypassing craters where homes had stood and also far more intact buildings, still crisp and clean and bearing that unmistakable scent of newness.

These, more than any of the others, were painted with images of children and adults standing together, plastered with announcements, and more than one — many — almost all — featuring that flame-haired youth. More often than not he was framed closely by two others. Another boy, this one slightly taller and leaner with dark hair. And a girl, a little smaller, with bold waves and startling green eyes.

The boy with the dirty face turned his head to look at each of them, though he did not slow.

After what felt like a very long time, Qui-Gon found himself entering what seemed to be a cellar. It was dark and musty, but before he could question it, his guide went to a section of the wall and pushed, popping open a panel that sank away and slid to one side.

“This way,” he said unnecessarily.

In they went. It was a tunnel, low and long, and Qui-Gon had to stoop halfway just to move. The boy, several inches shorter, had less trouble.

A few minutes of breathless, blind stumbling later, and they reached a reinforced door.

The boy knocked slowly, then quickly; stopped, and then knocked rapidly again. “It’s me!” he called through the crevice. “He’s here.”

There was a grinding sound, and then the door swung open to reveal bright light. The boy slipped through without hesitation, but the Jedi Master was more wary, blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light before slowly entering the room, still bowed low from the tunnel.

When he rose, he was looking directly into the eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy had changed, and yet was exactly the same.

There was no other way to describe it.

He had certainly shot up an inch or so in height. His Jedi tunics were gone; he was wearing a stained white tunic of much poorer cloth and simpler cut, over a pair of patched brown trousers and sturdy boots. His robe was still the one he had worn when he had first arrived all those months ago, but he had sewn the sleeves so that they did not dangle over his wrists or hang wide and loose; instead they were drawn closer, but not so tight that they impeded his movement.

His hair seemed more coppery red than before as it hung loose and untidy, coming to slightly ragged ends halfway between his jawline and his shoulders. Some of the baby fat had melted away, driven off no doubt by stress and hunger and emotion, and his cheekbones stood out a little too much.

But it was his eyes that struck Qui-Gon.

They seemed exactly the same.

Pale blue-green, wide and friendly and innocent, sweet as they had been on the day they met.

Unbearably naive.

Those eyes flickered with shock for a moment, and then the boy stepped forward and offered out his hand. “Master Jinn,” he said.

Qui-Gon blinked. Perhaps if he waited a moment, Obi-Wan would remember that Jedi bowed? But the boy merely stared at him with his hand extended, and so Qui-Gon grasped it and shook briefly before letting go.

The boy did not seem particularly bothered. He turned to the rest of the room. “You’re all ready?”

“Yes,” came a chorus of voices.

Freed from the strangeness of Obi-Wan and his gaze, Qui-Gon looked around. There were several others present — all humans, all young, all grimy. Maybe a dozen or so in number. The room he was in was spacious, a little low-ceilinged and plain. It had the air of a bunker, with bright lights that aggravated the eyes and dull walls and functional furniture. Most notably, the enormous table in the center.

It was spread with maps, fliers, announcement posters, detailed blueprints for buildings and machinery, tidy sketches outlining strategies and countermeasures. Qui-Gon’s keen eyes caught words like ‘anti-terrorism,’ ‘knowledge is courage,’ ‘long-range missile launcher,’ and ‘riot activity.’ And, half-concealed under a map of Melida/Daan’s entire surface, a flat holo of three people. Obi-Wan. The dark-haired boy. The girl with green eyes.

“Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan’s voice broke into his observations.

They were all watching him with various degrees of mistrust.

Qui-Gon straightened his spine, and then forced himself to relax a little, trying to radiate comfort and honesty. Even without force sensitivity, they would be eased somewhat.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he assured them.

Kenobi exchanged a quick look with the boy who had guided him here, and the youth shrugged. “He was quick enough and he listened to what I said, but he’s like most adults. Thinking more in his head than paying attention, didn’t even ask my name.”

Qui-Gon started. He hadn’t, had he?

“I—” he began, but the youth cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

“You didn’t ask,” he said. “I’m not sharing now. I’m sure you’ll hear it eventually.”

Obi-Wan nodded as if this were perfectly reasonable. “Master Jinn, are you prepared to take all thirteen of us back to Coruscant?”

“What?” Qui-Gon demanded. He glanced around at the others, who looked even less impressed than before. He felt so unexpectedly out of his depth. What was this place? “I — no, I’m returning you to the Jedi, to the care of the High Council.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said placidly. “You’re not. I’m sure Master Yoda had his reasons for sending you—” the slightest emphasis on the word ‘you’—“but you are here to escort myself and the other twelve to the Core to appear before the Senate. That’s why you were assigned such a large ship. We’re going to make an appeal on behalf of Meldan.”

“Meldan?” Qui-Gon echoed.

“Our planet,” one of the others, a curly-haired, fierce-eyed woman of about twenty-two said. “Obi, are you sure about this? This isn’t at all what you said we could expect.”

“Master Jinn is an exception to many rules,” Obi-Wan told her; as he turned his head to look in her direction, he briefly seemed to change, the tension in his shoulders easing and his face alight with mischief. Then it was gone. He turned back to Qui-Gon, and beneath the veneer of professionalism could be glimpsed a strange aura of… something Qui-Gon couldn’t determine or define.

Their eyes met again, and silence fell for a moment.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan decided. “Yes, this will work. If any Jedi will help ensure you catch the attention of the Senate, it would be Master Jinn. Master Yoda also told me that Master Adi Gallia will be your official patron, which is good; she spends most of her time handling the political side of Jedi affairs.”

“Then we should go now,” said a small boy of no more than nine. “Let’s go!”

“Not just yet, Jocco,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, turning a gentle smile on the child. “We’re not quite ready. We’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Right,” Jocco said, nodding. “Okay.”

Obi-Wan smiled again. “All right, everyone. We have meals to eat and supplies to pack, so let’s keep together and keep organized. Sarai,” he nodded at the curly-haired woman, “and my friend,” a nod to the bitter-eyed nameless guide, “please bring Master Jinn up to speed. Master Jinn,” he added, glancing up from where the smallest children were flocking to his side and clinging to his hands, “I will see you in an hour.”

He left, surrounded by children both far younger and several years older than him, like adoring chicks following their mother, or maybe more like an honor guard. The contrast was both ludicrous and oddly touching.

“You listen to him,” Qui-Gon commented to his tight-lipped companions. “Even though he no longer carries the authority of a Jedi.”

“I haven’t seen any Jedi authority yet,” snapped back his unnamed guide. “Just three Jedi who came, two who left, and one who stayed.”

“It was not our mission to stay,” Qui-Gon replied calmly, tucking his hands inside his sleeves. “Though I can see what compelled him to.”

“Oh, can you?” said Sarai. She folded her arms tightly and assessed him, her lip curling. “I don’t think you see much past the end of your own nose.”

“Petty insults will get us nowhere,” he replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of said nose. “And it won’t help you when you speak for your people before the Senate.”

“Me?” an amused smile curled her lips. She looked as if all her suspicions had just been confirmed. “I won’t be speaking, not primarily anyways. I don’t have any governmental authority behind me, I’m just a secondary representative.”

“Same here,” said the young man.

“Governmental authority…? Then who is your speaker?” Qui-Gon asked, slightly bewildered.

“Are you blind?” said the young man. “Obi-Wan is the leader. Since the other two were assassinated, Obi-Wan is our only head of government.”

The next time Qui-Gon laid eyes on his former apprentice, it was mere minutes before their agreed departure time.

The children — Melida, Daan, none of them older than sixteen, aside from former Melida Sarai and former Daan who still refused to share his name — were all gathered next to a large reinforced bay door next to a small fleet of speeders.

Obi-Wan had one arm draped around the shoulders of a ten-year-old boy, murmuring instructions to him, and carrying the little toddler girl on his hip. She was playing with his hair contentedly, unbothered by the preparations going on around her.

If it had been strange to see Obi-Wan before, with his air of sameness-yet-differentness, it was doubly so now.

Knowing what he now knew.

Knowing that Obi-Wan Kenobi had accomplished what he had set out to do and reunited the Melida and the Daan with the help of a few middle-aged adults from both sides and the constant aid of his two companions, Cerasi and Nield. Knowing that he had been fairly elected alongside Cerasi and Nield as the Triumvers — the three Heads of State — of the newly named Meldan.

Knowing that they had been in the midst of Reconstruction both physical and emotional when a radical had betrayed them, murdering innocents gathered for discussions. How Cerasi had been murdered in her bed. How Nield had begun drumming up a military force, only to be assassinated — by a friend of the peace or a foe, who could say? How Obi-Wan had seen all his allies either killed or turn away, and had gathered all he could and retreated below ground, holding tight to his ideals and the legislative power that now backed him.

Knowing how he had continued to sow the seeds of freedom and diplomacy even as the people left above ground resorted again to violence. How he had nurtured genuine friendships among his people, even after having been betrayed.

And here he stood, not even fifteen, making children laugh and reassuring people older than him as he attempted to carry them to freedom and hope.

A government of war-veteran children, led by a former Jedi Padawan.

Qui-Gon watched as everyone was paired up, older teens with younger children, two to a speeder, until at last there was only one vehicle left and only himself and Kenobi still standing.

“I’m afraid I’ll be piloting,” the boy told him. “I’m familiar with the route.”

Qui-Gon swallowed away a bitter taste and merely nodded.

Obi-Wan swung himself up behind the controls, and Qui-Gon moved to sit behind him, and despite everything, despite knowing Obi-Wan’s history over the past eight months, despite being determined not to regard him as his Padawan ever again, it still felt wrong to sit behind. To let the child lead. To let the child sit behind the controls where any decent sniper would aim.

“Stick close and keep low!” Obi-Wan called out.

“Love you Obi!” the same tiny girl cried out from somewhere behind them on another speeder.

Qui-Gon didn’t know what he expected, if he expected anything at all in this strange parallel universe he had wandered into. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan turning his head to grin at the girl and calling back, “Love you too, Cler!” still surprised him.

And then they were off.

The children were clearly well trained, experienced. They seemed to know this back route by heart, undeterred by the semi-light of dusk, and keeping behind outcroppings of rock and trees as much as possible.

Obi-Wan glanced around periodically to check on the others, and every so often one of the others from the back of the parade would speed up to match his pace and give him the all-clear before falling back again.

The breathlessness of the moment settled somewhere in Qui-Gon’s chest. If he could put aside the emotional toll it was taking to sit behind his former student and see him not as a Jedi but as a war-tried planetary ruler, it was easier to be caught up in the rush. The fate of thousands depended on this race for freedom.

The former Jedi Master and Padawan maintained their lead, a slight gap between them and the others.

This served them all well when a blaster bolt came out of nowhere and struck Obi-Wan in his right shoulder, missing his chest only because he sensed it at the last second and twisted away.

There were screams from the smaller children; the older children reacted immediately, scattering their small fleet and engaging their weapons.

“There!” Qui-Gon cried, pointing to a ridge on their right where glimpses of people moving could be seen. His other hand was holding Obi-Wan upright.

“Are you all right to keep piloting?” he shouted.

“For a little while! Hold on, I have a plan!” Obi-Wan shouted back.

“Is it a good plan?”

“Hard to tell until I’ve done it!”

For a second it felt like it had been a year ago, or even better, both of them on the edge of adrenaline and serenity, grinning.

Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and deflected two more blaster shots, calling out warnings to the others within earshot.

A speeder went down.

A girl and boy were thrown several meters, crushing in the dust, clinging to one another as they rolled to a stop. On another speeder, Sarai yelled “Here!” and pulled up alongside Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, while Jocco stood up from behind her and leapt.

Qui-Gon’s heart shot to his throat.

But as he extended a hand and caught the child with the Force, Obi-Wan was already doing the same thing, drawing Jocco safely onto their speeder. Sarai, meanwhile, swung her speeder back around and parked it in front of the fallen one, shielding the injured two from view. She stood up on the seat and raised a blaster in each hand, lips twisted in a snarl. “Over here you bastards!” she screamed. “Like shooting at children? Give it your best shot!”

“She’s insane,” said Qui-Gon.

“She’s my second in command!” Obi-Wan laughed. “Now get ready! You’re taking the wheel!”

“What?”

Qui-Gon turned his head just in time to see Obi-Wan launch himself off of the moving speeder with reckless grace, executing a Force-augmented leap to land neatly on the ridge. “Kenobi! What are you doing?” Qui-Gon bellowed.

The boy didn’t respond. He had a blaster in his good hand and dropped out of view, directly onto the heads of the people concealed behind the rocks. There were yells; red light flared as weapons went off in rapid succession. Sarai took advantage of the distraction and urged the other two onto her speeder. “Go!” she said.

As soon as they were off, one of the other speeders erupted from the tree-line and swooped in front of her, slowing down enough to allow her to jump aboard behind two smaller children. “Good job kiddos,” Qui-Gon heard her say. Then she looked up at him. “Come on, we have to go!”

“But—Obi-Wan—” he said helplessly.

As he did, Obi-Wan reappeared at the crest of the ridge, a smoking hole in his trouser leg and a bloody furrow over one eye. He looked directly at Qui-Gon and mouthed, ‘Go! Take the others and run, now!’

Then he was gone again.

A pained look crossed Sarai’s face, but she glanced at Jocco sitting on his lap and smoothed it away at once. “He knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Now come on!”

They sped off, trailing dust and a broken wreck, following in the wake of the other speeders far ahead of them.

In the distance, the ship gleamed in the low light, a beacon for them to follow.

The others were waiting for them when they arrived, arranged defensively around the ship, protecting their only mode of transportation. The nameless boy was standing front and center, an adapted blaster rifle in his arms, looking ready to kill anyone who got too near. Jocco ran straight to him.

Sarai helped the other two down and began loading everyone onto the ship, which opened at Qui-Gon’s command.

He and the boy with the rifle waited.

And waited.

The sun set in earnest, and darkness fell.

And still they waited.

“Can you make your appeal to the Senate without him?” Qui-Gon said suddenly.

The young man whipped his head around to look at him. “What?”

“Can you make your appeal without Obi-Wan?”

He sneered. “In his absence, legal responsibility falls to Sarai and me. But it’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not.” Qui-Gon agreed.

There was a brief silence.

“Can you pilot this starship?”

“What?”

Qui-Gon did not repeat himself this time, and the young man’s eyes widened, his grip on his rifle slackening. “You… you want to stay. You want to stay and search for him.”

“You need to leave,” said Qui-Gon quietly. “Can you pilot this starship?”

“My name’s Radan,” the young man said brusquely, extending a grimy hand. “And yeah, between me and Kieln we can figure it out pretty quickly.”

“Good,” said Qui-Gon shaking his hand firmly. “As soon as you exit your first hyperspace jump, contact Master Yoda, it’s all programmed into the system. Tell him what happened.”

He looked again to the shadowed horizon, to the dark smudge several kilometers distant that was the stone ridge where he had last seen Obi-Wan.

“Tell him,” he paused. “…Tell him I am going to stay with my Padawan.”

Radan paused halfway up the ramp, turning to look back, a look of concern crossing his young face. “Even if he’s never going back to the Jedi?” he asked.

Qui-Gon hesitated.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? Obi-Wan is capable of making his own decisions.”

Qui-Gon turned back towards the horizon, towards Obi-Wan.

“But I will not leave him again.”

#ugh this boy #someone hug him he’s hurting #sir please your life is in mortal peril sit down #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #master & padawan #jedi apprentice #melida/daan #padawan obi wan #my writing #star wars #star wars fic #tw injury #tw blood #tw reference to child death

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pirate-au · 3 years ago

Text

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 5)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: TW for Remus being Remus, threats of violence

thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for editing! Check out their spinoff @actorau it's going to be so cool

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6

The throne room was quiet, the guards stationed around the golden walls silent and motionless, the air just as heavy as it had been since news of the missing Prince had made it to the King.

Janus’s eyes were on the blue skies outside glass stained windows, the guards around him staring straight ahead, backs straight, unmoving for hours.

He leaned against the back of the throne with a sigh. The golden throne was grand and elegant, but also old and uncomfortable. It was honestly more for show than for furniture, and his back always protested the hours upon hours he spent in the throne room. He was always staring at the door, waiting for the same boring pointless people to come in with their same boring pointless demands.

It had been a bit more frantic since Virgil had disappeared along with his advisor, but with over a week of no new leads, no way to track down the missing Prince, things had settled back into routine, just coupled with a rising sense of uncertainty and dread.

Janus could barely even remember the last time he’d had a proper conversation with Virgil. They saw each other in meetings, Virgil quiet and nervous, out of place in a room full of adult royals, but that was about it.

He’d stopped by to congratulate the young Prince on achieving adulthood on his 18th birthday, as well as to praise Patton for his success, but that had been almost a year ago now, and they’d barely said a word to each other since.

Janus had never bothered to get to know the boy- too many bad memories, too much responsibility on top of the crown that had been thrust upon him after the death of the Queen.

He’d been given the throne to the kingdom he was never meant to rule, expected to ignore his own grief and confusion in favor of piecing things back together. He couldn’t raise a child on top of that.

Virgil had his mother’s mismatched eyes. Janus still couldn’t bring himself to look at the Prince without a simple glance being accompanied by waves of unwanted memories.

Patton had raised him well in place of any real family, and Janus had paid him enough to support the young advisor for decades.

And now both Virgil and Patton were gone, vanished without a trace in the middle of the night, and Janus didn’t know what to do.

Virgil was the only heir, set to be King in less than a year’s time now. The boy was a wreck. Anxious, timid, unprepared, and unsociable. So Janus had managed to push back the crowning until he was twenty, rather than eighteen like originally planned.

Patton had done his best, but he and Janus both knew that boy wasn’t fit to be King. Not yet, at least. Probably not for a long while.

But there was nothing Janus could do about that. He was never meant to be King, he was simply a placeholder until the late Queen’s son came of age.

He'd been able to keep Virgil from being crowned as an unprepared teenager like Janus had been, but he couldn't keep the crown off his head forever.

But now the late Queen’s son was gone, and Janus was still on the throne, his back still protesting the long, uneventful hours.

He’d been King for nearly a decade. He’d built his kingdom, built a reputation, placed his spies, made sure he had eyes and ears on every corner. The people knew him, respected him (more out of fear than anything, he suspected). The King was always the first to hear anything.

And yet there hadn’t been a word about the missing Prince. Nobody was sure when he left, if he was still in the city, if he’d left on a ship or was just hiding right under their noses. Nobody knew if he’d left willingly or if someone had stolen him.

It had been over a week, and still nothing.

Janus was pulled from his thoughts when the double doors at the end of the hall swung open without any warning or announcement, loud heels clicking against the floor, the guards startling to attention.

“Hell of a place you got here,” the intruder called, weaving around the two guards stationed at the door, expertly avoiding their grasps. “Did you decorate in puke yellow on purpose?”

Janus leaned forward, watching with his one good eye as the man pushed his way into the throne room, grinning as he surveyed the area, avoiding the apparently incompetent guards.

Janus raised a hand, stopping the rest of his men from rushing forward, weapons raised. The day had been never ending and dull, he might as well see how this played out.

Janus kept his eye on the intruder, eyebrow raised. “And who might you be?”

“That’s not important right now,” the man said, finally spinning around to face the throne. “What is important is… holy shit. What happened to your face? It looks like it was on fire and someone tried to put it out with a fork! Like, in a good way. It works.”

He sounded almost awestruck, staring shamelessly at the marred side of Janus’s face, and for the first time in years the King felt uneasy up on his throne, tensing under the gaze.

Nobody looked at his scar. It was common courtesy to pretend it wasn’t there, an unspoken agreement among the people.

“Tell me who you are and what you want before I have you arrested.”

The man gave a dramatic, woeful sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have a kid, yeah? Short, big mop of black hair, crown prince and heir to the throne of Naither?”

That piqued Janus’s interest much more than the bizarre show the nameless man seemed intent on putting on. “My nephew is the heir, and the city is aware there is a reward for his return. If you have information you should have scheduled an appointment.”

“Appointments aren’t really my thing,” he said, looking up with a bright, crooked grin, one hand moving up to brush over his mustache. “The point is, I know where your kid is.”

“Wonderful,” Janus said. “Where?”

The man merely shrugged. “That depends. How much are you paying?”

He kept his voice disinterested and bored, picking at chipped, painted nails. Well, two could play that game.

Janus leaned back in the throne and examined his gloves, black and gold rings glittering in what little sunlight managed to filter in. He saw the man’s gaze fall on the jewels, his eyes brightening hungrily. “I’m sure we could get you a handsome reward for helping to bring the Prince home. If your information is authentic.”

“Well I’m not offering information,” he said, tilting his head to look at Janus. “I’m offering to collect him myself. There are very few people you could trust with the job, you know. You can’t just pick up any rando’ off the streets.”

“I have plenty of people who are more than capable of bringing the heir back home. You’re expecting me to entrust his return to a stranger?”

The man shrugged again. “I won’t share the information with just anyone.”

“You’ll share the information if there’s a knife to your throat.”

The man actually grinned at that, brown eyes brightening dangerously. There was a scar across the left side of his face, that eye a bit glossy, parallel to Janus’s own injury. “Any fool willing to attack the ship he’s on will die. I can guarantee that. Except myself, of course!”

“Is that so?” Janus drawled. “Care to explain why?”

Remus hummed, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, smug grin only growing. “You’ve not heard of the Calypso? She’s mighty notorious, especially about these parts. And I’d simply not let anyone near her. There’s precious cargo on that ship, you know.”

Janus had heard of the ship, but only vaguely. He tended to ignore rumors of pirates, busying himself with more important things than following those stories. Especially when such stories didn’t often involve the land he was ruling.

Well, he couldn’t exactly ignore the pirates when they were kidnapping the kingdom’s only heir, could he?

“How do I know you’re right about Virgil being aboard?”

“Why, I have written proof from the Captain, of course!” The man bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, leaning forward. “He’s been on board for… nearly two weeks now? They’ll stop in Gladena in about a day's time, and from there be off to Deigh. You can check any record you please, the first mate is absolutely meticulous about it all.”

Janus drummed his fingers along the throne, studying the intruder carefully. He should have this man arrested for daring to barge into the throne room, whether he was telling the truth or not.

He could send someone he trusted after Virgil, but… the Prince and his advisor would be on the lookout for someone they recognized. And despite himself, Janus was achingly curious. "And how long would it take you to get my heir back to me?"

“Well, considering it took the Captain two weeks to get to Gladena,” the man mused, dropping his arms to fold his hands behind his back, swaying slightly. “I could cut them off at Deigh and be back in less than two months.”

It wasn’t… ideal. The kingdom needed it’s Prince back as soon as possible, especially when he was so close to taking the throne. Janus couldn’t keep the fear and uncertainty at bay forever.

But Deigh was a decent way away. Assuming this man would actually do what he said he would, two months was the best they could hope for. It wasn’t a bad offer.

“Very well,” Janus relented with a heavy sigh. “Every day over two months you’re gone, I reduce your pay. I expect Virgil to be returned unharmed.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re no fun.”

“And I’ll need your name,” Janus said. “I’d like to know who I’m trusting my nephew’s safe return with.”

The man brightened, toothy grin spreading across his face as he put a hand to his chest and bent forward in a mock bow.

“Remus of Lucoria. At your service, your majesty.”

Janus sighed, and some of the guards at the foot of the throne shifted anxiously, no doubt waiting for the order to attack.

As it turned out, there was one pirate Janus couldn’t ignore the rumors about. No one could, with how they seemed to spread with viscosity like no other.

“Ah,” Janus said. He wondered briefly how Remus had managed to dock without word getting to the King, making a mental note to fire his head naval officer. “Wonderful.”

“There we go.” Remus straightened, his grin never faltering. “Now you know who you’re dealing with.”

“And now I trust you to deliver Virgil safely even less.”

“Oh come off it,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I’m incompetent.”

“You do have a reputation,” Janus pointed out. “And I’d like my nephew back. Not his corpse.”

“I’m ruthless, not stupid. He’ll be alive.”

“He needs to be unharmed.”

“Unharmed is… such a big request these days,” Remus said, turning back to examining his nails. “Should I kiss his booboo if he gets a splinter?”

Janus set his jaw, staring down at Remus from his vantage point up on the throne. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had talked back to him like this, especially in his own throne room. “You should deliver the Crown Prince without injuring him. He’s royalty.”

“Yes, and as am I,” Remus said. “He’s not special.”

“You’re not royalty anymore.”

Remus rolled his eyes once again, turning back to Janus with a smile. “It’s a mindset.”

“Of course it is,” Janus drawled, leaning forward in his throne. “Royalty is power. If I wanted you dead today, your head would be at my feet in seconds.”

Remus laughed then, the sound short and humorless. “I had no problem getting in here, did I? If I wanted you dead today, you would be.”

“Not if you wanted to escape with your life,” Janus said. “But you’re welcome to try.”

“I did say if, sweetheart. I’m not here for that today.”

“Good,” Janus said, keeping his voice cold and sharp. “I still need the Prince back in one piece.”

“Yeah yeah,” Remus agreed, waving him off. “I heard you.”

“Completely unharmed, Remus.”

“Yes,” Remus growled. “I heard you. I’ll kiss all his booboos.”

“Good,” the King said again. “And I trust you’re aware of the reward for Virgil��s return?”

“Oh, I am,” Remus said. “And it’s not enough. I want 3,000. To start.”

Janus scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “To start, huh?”

“I’ve got to be compensated for my time, don’t I?”

“Sure,” Janus agreed. “But I’ll remind you I do have an army at my disposal. I don’t need you for one job. You’ve given me all the information I need to send my own men.”

“The Calypso’s Captain won’t let him go so easily,” Remus said. “And much less to anyone but me. So either I go get him, or he makes it to Deigh and is never heard from again. Your choice.” He said with another infuriating shrug.

There were countless eyes on Janus, the guards watching and waiting, ready to move at the King’s word. Remus was smiling, smug and knowing, and Janus took a steadying, resigned breath.

“Fine,” Janus relented. “I’ll give you 1,500 before you depart, and 1,500 when you return with Virgil.”

“Plus the pre-existing reward.”

The King sighed. He’d pay just about anything to get Remus out of his castle. “Fine. 3,000 on top of the reward.”

Remus smiled again, giving one more fake, flashy bow before sending the King a wink Janus would have anyone else killed for.

He started towards the double doors before pausing and turning back to the King. “How ‘bout a kiss, too?”

“Get out of my throne room.”

Remus cackled, striding past the bewildered guards and pushing past the double doors, the clicking of his heels echoing against the walls. He disappeared and the doors closed behind him, leaving Janus perched on his throne in silence like nothing had even happened.

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