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darl-ingfics · 5 days ago

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Come Lean Your Back on Me (Part 2)

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: 95 Line (pneumonia)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen

Word Count: 4,436 | Part 1

CW: hospital (nothing too graphic, but much of this takes place there)

Notes: First and foremost I don't know how oxygen masks work, and there are probably many medical inaccuracies. Second, this was my first real two part-er fic, and I'm so excited to share the conclusion with you. To the anon that sent this ask initially, thank you. This one's been a delight to write.

Seungcheol was barely asleep when he heard his door burst open. He was in the middle of contemplating if the cold medicine he’d taken before bed wasn’t actually the nighttime variety he’d intended to take because he didn’t feel sleepy at all when that stuff usually knocked him out. It also occurred to him that while he didn’t feel sleepy, he was so, so tired. Everything limb felt heavy, every muscle sore. His thoughts were hazy. And yet he just couldn’t fall asleep.

So he was somewhere in the middle of asleep and awake when the door opened, and his leader instincts kicked in on autopilot. He had already switched on the lamp when Mingyu appeared at his bedside.

Squinting against the light, Mingyu looked scared. “Hyung. You need to come. It’s Shua.”

Seungcheol sat up, ignoring the protesting ache in his muscles; autopilot was really working to his advantage right now. “What’s wrong?” He silently thanked the universe that the meds he’d taken were at least dulling his symptoms so that his sickness wasn’t obvious when his dongsaeng needed him.

“He’s really sick.” Well shit. “Seokmin thinks hospital.”

“Hospital?!” Seungcheol threw back his covers and swung himself out of bed, shaking his head to clear a wave of dizziness.

Mingyu nodded. “His temp was 39.6.” Seungcheol froze, staring at Mingyu in shock. The younger man nodded again in earnest. “And he said he couldn’t breathe. He’s coughing real bad.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to nod as he started moving towards the hall again. His hand skimmed against the wall, keeping him steady. But he made sure it was only his fingertips and not a full lean so Mingyu wouldn’t worry more than he already was. He didn’t stop until he reached Joshua’s room, feeling Mingyu on his heels as he rounded the doorframe.

Seokmin was still cradling Joshua in his arms, half standing, half kneeling on the bed. He looked more terrified than Seuncheol had ever seen him as he clutched tightly to Joshua’s body, the elder mumbling incoherently despite looking like he was fast asleep.

“Hyung.” Seokmin’s voice was little more than a sob. “Please. Help me.”

Seungcheol did not like being the one who had to go to the hospital with his members when they were hurt or sick. He hated watching other people poke and prod at his brothers, hated how they ignored their cries of pain or needs for comfort, even though he knew they were just doing their job. He hated seeing his brother so fragile.

But he also refused to be left behind, to be anywhere but by his brothers’ side in their time of need.

Still. It sucked to watch the paramedics carry Joshua’s body from the ambulance as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. It hurt watching the nurses flock around him, hands fluttering between an IV, blood draws, all of it. The worst was the mask, the fucking oxygen mask cause Joshua couldn’t fucking breathe. Cause how had he, Seungcheol, let it get this bad? How had he missed this? Sure, he’d known Joshua was sick; they’d both joked about Jeonghan’s overcommitment to the phrase ‘sharing is caring.’ But it was just a cold. Not… this. The thought ‘why didn’t Joshua say something?’ also crossed his mind, but the answer came just as quick: ‘you haven’t said anything either, so look who’s talking.’

But the absolute worst came after the mask; was having to sit back and watch Joshua come to and have a panic attack because of the confusion of waking up in an unknown space with a plastic dome strapped to his face. Listening to the heart rate monitor shrieking in time with his member’s anxiety. His view of his dear friend suddenly distorted from the nurses flurrying around.

Seungcheol couldn’t sit anymore. He jumped to his friend’s side, grabbed the hand closest to him. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here, just breathe,” the leader soothed in English, his fingers wrapping around Joshua’s hands and pulling them away from the plastic mask. “You need it, sweetheart. You’re sick, and this is making you better, I promise.” When Joshua’s fingers stilled, Seungcheol released his hands, instead pressing back on Joshua’s shoulders, finding very little resistance. “Lay back, that’s it. You need to let your body heal. Don’t fight it.” Joshua whimpered, unable to talk. “I know. It sucks, baby. But I’m right here.”

Joshua nodded, tears running down his cheeks, getting lost in the plastic lining of the oxygen mask. The heart rate monitor slowed to a near steady beat. The nurses gave them a fraction more space.

Seungcheol took Joshua’s hand again. Squeezed it tight. The leader nodded approvingly when he felt a faint squeeze back.

And then, without warning, all the color drained from Seuncheol’s face, and he collapsed to the floor, fingers going slack as they slipped away from Joshua’s hand.

Jeonghan was already splayed across the couch when Chan walked in the next morning. The younger man expected his hyung to be cooped up in his room most of the day, nursing the cold he’d been suffering through the night before. The humidifier seemed to have helped; Chan had heard significantly less ‘sick person’ noise after their exchange. But, looking at Jeonghan now, Chan wasn’t so sure. The older vocalist looked incredibly pale with the exception of a pink flush dusting his cheeks and nose. Even the positioning of his body looked pained; Chan couldn’t fully explain how that was true, but just, something about the pajama pants and old hoodie and the one leg bent with the other straight and the arm thrown across his eyes… Jeonghan looked the epitome of suffering.

As if to qualify Chan’s inner thoughts, Jeonghan groaned, pathetic as anything.

The younger man snorted. “You good there, hyung?”

Jeonghan begrudgingly removed the arm he had thrown across his eyes. “I have forgotten what it is like to smell and taste things.” His voice was thick with disuse and the build up of all the gross the medicine hadn’t cleared yet.

Chan outright chuckled this time, shaking his head. “I would ask how you slept, but it’s clear from the level of drama that it wasn’t well.” Jeonghan attempted to throw a pillow at him, missing terribly. Chan chuckled again. “Did the humidifier help at all?”

“It helped a lot, actually. Thank you,” Jeonghan answered, a genuine smile replacing his petulant scowl. “It helped me breathe through the pain.” He sniffled dramatically for emphasis.

“Then what kept you awake?”

“Everything huuurtsssss,” Jeonghan whined, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Chan pouted sympathetically as he moved to sit on the couch opposite Jeonghan. “Seriously, every part of my body aches.”

“I can only imagine. My whole body hurts too, and I’m not even sick on top of that,” Chan replied, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you try three days of concerts with the cold from hell…”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Three days? Hyung, you’ve been sick for three days?”

Jeonghan nodded, sniffling. “Yeah?”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

A shrug. “Did it matter?”

Chan shrugged this time. “I mean, yeah. The weather’s been so shitty. That had to be terrible for you.”

Jeonghan scoffed, the noise upsetting his sore throat and prompting a cough. “It is what it is. I’m just glad it was me and not someone else.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Well I don’t have anything else to say on the topic. So pick another one, or leave me to my wallowing.”

Chan rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket. Silence spread between them for only a moment before Chan opened the group chat…

“Oh shit.” Jeonghan glanced over in curiosity, getting worried when he saw the way Chan sat forward, staring at his phone. “Have you seen the group chat?”

“No?”

“Shua’s in the hospital.”

Jeonghan sat up faster than either of them thought possible with an unrestrained, “WHAT?!” He instantly regretted shouting so loud, and moving so fast, as he was hit with a coughing fit that wasn’t helped at all by a violent wave of dizziness. Chan stood up, ready to help, but Jeonghan waved him off, swallowing harshly. He motioned for Chan to explain more.

The maknae looked back at his phone, worrying at his lower lip. “I don’t know much. Kyeomie messaged around 2 in the morning that one of the managers was on their way to take Joshua to the hospital. That he’d found him burning up and struggling to breathe. And Seungcheollie was going to go with them.” Chan looked up at Jeonghan, looking young and scared. “Cheollie then messaged later that everything’s fine, they’ve got Shua stable and on an IV for meds and fluids, but tests still haven’t come back to tell us what’s wrong.” Jeonghan didn’t know what to say to comfort him. Especially when he watched the younger man scrutinizing him closer. “Come to think of it, hyung, haven’t you been experiencing the same symptoms?”

Jeonghan shrugged, attempting to act casual. “I can breathe moderately well, thank you…”

“But like…” Chan shook his head, trying to scramble together words. “What if you have the same bug? What if you eventually need to go the…”

“Channie-bug, I promise you, I’m fine.” The cough that followed his statement was an absolute contradiction, but Jeonghan waved it off. “It’s nothing more than a bad cold. I’ve had worse. We all have. And, honestly…” He shook his head, the quirk of his lips revealing inner thoughts he didn’t want to say out loud. “I got Shuji sick in the first place…”

“Hyung…”

Jeonghan held up a hand, unwilling to allow Chan to either badger him about going to the doctor too or assure him Joshua being hospitalized wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t sure which one he actually needed more right now, and wasn’t willing to think about either. “BUT! Just because it is the same bug doesn’t mean shit. Germs hit people differently, ya know? My immune system may be in the trenches right now, but it’s still kicking. Besides, Cheol said Shuji’s stable, yeah? Sometimes all you need are those good hospital meds and you’re good as new.”

“I guess…”

“Channie.” The younger man looked up, surprised by the serious tone in his hyung’s voice. As unwell as he looked, Jeonghan’s stare was one of the most comforting things Chan could remember seeing in a long time. “I swear to you that I feel okay at this moment. I will let you, or someone else if you aren’t here, know that second that changes, if it changes. Okay?”

Chan nodded, his hyung’s resolve reassuring him. “Okay.”

But the voice of worry inside him didn’t completely disappear.

When Seungcheol came to, he was confused. He heard unfamiliar voices. There was a beeping sounding from somewhere close by. The lights were harsher than the ones at the dorm or the studio. Harsher than stage lights, really. Maybe that had to do with the white walls and floors and ceilings…

There were hands pulling at him. He felt distant from his own body, as if he were simply a child’s toy. He allowed his body to be manipulated by the hands, trusting them fully.

The hands pushed and pulled into a seated position. Since when was he lying down?

The hands attempted to pull him to his feet. His legs crumpled. The hands caught him. Kept him up.

It felt nice to be supported by the hands.

Then everything went dark again.

Joshua watched the nurses scrape Seungcheol up from the floor. His hand, the one Seungcheol had only just been holding, was still reaching towards his leader, his friend, his brother. Joshua felt helpless, unable to speak or move or do anything but watch as his Cheollie was dragged out of the room. Away from him.

Joshua was crying, trying to be quiet about it. Cheollie needed the doctor’s attention now.

Still, one of the nurses had stayed with him, and she frowned. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. He’s in the best place possible to faint, yeah?” Joshua looked up at her, eyes so round and misty and scared and confused and… the nurse had never fully gotten used to seeing that look on her patients. It still broke her heart. But it also reminded her why she’d pursued this job in the first place. “I promise you, your friend is in good hands. I need you to focus on you right now. The best thing you can do for him is allow your own body to heal, okay? And I’m here to help you do that. Sound good?”

Joshua nodded.

The nurse smiled. “Great. Now, I can either tell you what’s happening or not. Sometimes people don’t want to know. Do you want me to explain what’s going on?” Joshua nodded. “We’re still waiting on some tests, but you have an advanced upper repository infection. Likely pneumonia. Your breathing was really unstable when you arrived, and that’s why we need you to wear that mask for at least fifteen more minutes. Then we’ll be able to judge how best to treat you. Does that make sense?” Joshua nodded again, but the nurse saw that his eyes had once again welled up with tears. She clicked her tongue, grabbing his hand gently, rubbing her thumb over his skin. She felt Joshua give her a tiny squeeze back. “How can I help?” She mimed removing the mask so he could talk.

Joshua’s other hand was shaking as he lifted the oxygen mask and whispered, “I want my mom.”

The nurses felt her heart constrict with sympathy “I can call her? Ask her to come visit?”

Joshua shook his head, his face screwing up as he let the mask fall back into place. “I can’t…”

“His mom lives in the United States.” The nurse jumped as Joshua’s manager appeared next to her. Of course he was still here; she’d forgotten about him while focused on her patient. But she nodded in understanding.

The manager moved to Joshua’s other side, running a soothing hand through his hair. “I know it’s so hard to not have your mom close right now, bud. How about we Facetime her in a few hours?” Joshua nodded, but the tears didn’t stop. The manager smiled warmly, still working his fingers through Joshua’s hair. The nurse couldn’t help but smile too.

“So let me get this straight.” Soonyoung clasped his hands together, pointing them somewhat accusingly at Jeonghan. “You, Seuncheol, and Joshua all got sick before the concert and didn’t tell anyone. You performed all three days. Now, both Cheollie and Shua were admitted to the hospital due to complications from that illness, and you think you don’t need to go too?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Soonyoung threw his hands up in defeat, looking to Wonwoo for back up. The rapper shrugged. “Why not, hyung?” To be fair, Wonwoo was hardly awake and had just walked in for a cup of coffee when he’d been dragged into the living room by Soonyoung and Chan.

Jeonghan shrugged again. “I’m just built different.” The hacking cough that followed his statement did nothing to inspire confidence.

“He’s been doing that all morning. All night too,” Chan added helpfully (or unhelpfully from Jeonghan’s perspective.)

Wonwoo blinked as both Soonyoung and Chan looked at him expectantly, (obviously, Soonyoung had tried his bit and it hadn’t worked.) The taller man shrugged. “If hyung doesn’t want to go to the hospital, we can’t force him to.” Soonyoung scoffed in frustration, spinning on his heels and out of the room. Chan simply pouted at Wonwoo, obviously attempting to change his mind.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” Jeonghan said.

“Why’s he your favorite?” Seungkwan asked as he joined the group.

Chan crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “Because hyung’s being a stubborn jerk.” Seungkwan’s eyes slid to Jeonghan. From the way his brow furrowed, Jeonghan realized Chan and Soonyoung had just found their next ally.

“What, do I look that good?” the elder vocalist joked. Seungkwan straight up frowned at the sound of his voice. Jeonghan sighed. Today was going to be a long day… unless he just… gave into their suggestions…

But Jeonghan knew he couldn’t do that. Sure, Soonyoung and Chan and Seungkwan were currently frustrated with him. That was just a disguise for their worry, though, their fear. it was unsettling to have not one, but two of their hyungs already down for the count. And in such a scary way too; hospital was never a word anyone wanted to hear. So Jeonghan had to stay strong. He couldn’t deny being sick, that ship had sailed, but he knew he wasn’t hospital-level sick. And his members, his younger brothers, needed to know he was okay.

So Jeonghan would be okay.

The second time Seungcheol came to, he was incredibly confused. He still had no idea where he was. The lights were still too harsh to be the ones in the dorms. The bed beneath him and the blankets tucked over him certainly weren’t his own. Wait. When had he laid down in a bed? When had he fallen asleep? When…? Where…? Why…?

“Don’t think too hard.”

Seungcheol turned his head to the side to see Jeonghan curled up in a chair next to his bed. The vice leader was wearing hospital-issued pajamas, the shirt sleeves sticking out of a sweatshirt Seungcheol recognized as Wonwoo’s. He was also wearing fuzzy socks that were obviously Hoshi’s, given their black and orange striped pattern.

“What… the fuck?” Seungcheol managed to whisper. His voice was raspy, caught on a lump in his throat that made him cough.

Jeonghan snorted. “Hey, watch your language. This is a hospital.”

“Hospital?”

Jeonghan nodded. “You and a manager brought Shuji here in the wee hours of the morning. You insisted on staying with him after he was admitted. You passed out pretty soon after that. Turns out the stress of seeing Shua sent your temperature through the roof.”

Seungcheol blinked slowly, his brain struggling to retain all of that information. He swallowed, wincing. “How do you know all that?” “I don’t.” Jeonghan shrugged, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “But it seems likely enough, right?”

“He’s right.” Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s attention snapped to the door where Joshua was leaning against the frame. He was pulling an IV pole with him as he entered, but it didn’t slow him at all as he moved immediately to the bed, climbing in next to Seungcheol, curling up against his friend’s side. “You did pass out. Just for a second, but it really freaked us all out.”

Seungcheol paused, settling his arms around Joshua, appreciating the feeling of having his friend so close. A memory tugged at his mind: Joshua with the oxygen mask. Joshua looked better than that memory; he didn’t look quite so weak and helpless, a little more like himself. Definitely still pale, still unwell, but more Joshua.

“Why are we all in the hospital?” Seungcheol asked, blinking blearily between his friends.

“Pneumonia,” Joshua answered, resting his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder. Seungcheol’s eyes widened comically. His heart monitor picked up speed. He looked to Jeonghan for confirmation. The vocalist nodded sadly.

The leader turned back to Joshua. “You’re kidding.” Joshua shook his head. Seungcheol’s head fell back against his pillow, incredulous. “I thought that… isn’t that only when you get, like, water in your lungs?”

“That’s one way, yeah, but it’s also just the worse form of a cold,” Jeonghan said. “Which, I will admit, I gave you both. So, sorry about that.”

“No, you can’t take the blame like that,” Joshua replied, shaking his head against Seungcheol’s chest, either unable or unwilling to life his head. “We all chose to perform despite feeling icky.”

“Icky?” Jeonghan smirked.

Joshua waved a hand, hitting him virtually. “You got a better word for it?”

Jeonghan laughed, the sound bubbling into a particularly phlegmy cough. He shook his head, rubbing at his chest. “Nah, you’re exactly right.”

“Wait, how come you aren’t IV’d or anything?” Seungcheol asked suddenly, lifting his head up to fully confirm the statement’s truth.

Jeonghan shrugged. “My body’s just better. I’m just here for fun.”

“Liar,” Joshua snapped.

“Fine! I pulled a muscle coughing earlier and Channie cried so I agreed to come here.”

“Channie saw your muscle pull?” Seungcheol asked in amazement.

“No.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “You can’t actually the muscle pull, dummy. Channie saw me double over in pain after a coughing fit, and wouldn’t stop crying until I let them bring me here.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened dramatically. “You traumatized Channie?!”

“Why are you acting like I’m a criminal?”

“Because you committed CRIMES! You made Channie CRY!” The yelling made him cough, but Seungcheol deemed it worth it.

“Not on purpose!”

“I’m mad you don’t have an IV,” Seungcheol said matter-of-factly.

“And the truth comes out…”

“He’s not as cool as us,” Joshua said, snuggling closer to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Actually, I AM cooler than both of you. They didn’t give me an IV cause I’m not cooking as high as you two…”

“Cooking?!” Seungcheol interrupted.

“Wait, we have to cook? Isn’t that…” Joshua squinted between the two. “Didn’t you two got banned from…”

Jeonghan waved his hand, cutting them both off. “Bad metaphor, bad metaphor. My fever’s lower and I’m not in danger of dehydrating. Thus, no IV. While you two jokers are more touch and go. I got a medication drip when they brought me in, but the nurse took it out when it was done, and she said they’ll probably do another one later. But I guess I’m just not as high maintenance as you guys.” Seungcheol scoffed, muttering something about how that just wasn’t true. Jeonghan smirked. “They didn’t need to put me on oxygen either.”

“Shut uuuuuuppp. It was only for a little bit…” Joshua whined, closing his eyes as if remembering a terrible ordeal.

Seungcheol turned to him. “That’s what the mask was for?” Joshua whined again, a weak hand hitting Seungcheol’s arm. “I’m not mad at you! I really had no idea.”

“There’s no way you didn’t know that,” Jeonghan replied. “Younghwan-nim said you kept muttering about the ‘damn oxygen mask.’”

Seungcheol blinked. “Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t swear in hospitals.”

Joshua laughed, gently smacking the leader’s chest. Jeonghan laughed too. Seungcheol giggled with them.

Their joy was interrupted by the sound of a terse ‘ahem’ from the doorway. All three members looked up like criminals caught in the act. One of their managers, Younghwan, the first to arrive and now only one left at the hospital with them, was standing with a look of expectation, not quite disappointed but also not quite pleasant either.

“You guys can’t do anything alone, can you?” he asked. Despite using the joke commonly associated with the 95’s, his tone wasn’t light at all. Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua all remained silent, staring, like little kids waiting for punishment after stealing snacks before dinner. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, meeting each boy’s eyes with a look so sincerely hurt, they couldn’t even fathom lying.

“I’m the leader. What would it look like if…” Seungcheol cut himself off, shaking his head. “I thought I could push through for the sake of my team.”

The attention shifted to Jeonghan. “I genuinely thought it was just a cold. Something smaller that didn’t need to even be addressed cause there were bigger issues at hand.”

Joshua’s turn. “Same as Jeonghan. What’s a sore throat compared to a twisted ankle?”

Younghwan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, aware how judgmental that looked but unable to help it. “I hear you guys, I do. But… just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re invincible, yeah? You can be sick just like everyone else. You wouldn’t let Chan or Seokmin or Jihoon perform while sick, would you?”

“Not if I could help it,” Seungcheol answered while Jeonghan and Joshua shook their heads.

“Then you have to hold yourselves to the same standards. At least tell me, yeah?” All three members nodded. Younghwan nodded too. “Okay, good talk. You know, it really sucks to have to scold you when you’re literally in the hospital, right? Why do you have to make my job harder?”

Jeonghan smiled at the teasing tone creeping into their manager’s voice. “Go big or go home, right?”

All three were, thankfully, released from the hospital within the next 48 hours, mostly out of an abundance of caution. Sure, the damn oxygen mask had made a reappearance, but this time Joshua was at least coherent enough to put it on himself, and stayed awake and semi-active in Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s conversation while it was on. Sure, Seungcheol had woken up screaming from fever-induced night terrors twice, but this time he had Jeonghan and Joshua to sooth him out of it. Sure, the real pain of a pulled abdominal muscle reared its ugly head after the fact, but Jeonghan didn’t feel the need to hide his true suffering, allowing himself to be fussed over by his friends and the medical professionals. It wasn’t fun by any means, but being together in the hospital made everything feel less… icky.

Upon returning home, they had strict orders to rest until they’d been completely fever free for at least another 48 hours, and a medication schedule that had quite literally broken Hansol’s brain when they’d tried explaining it to him (to be fair, Hansol had made the mistake of asking after rehearsal when his brain was already fried.) Sure, their members were panicky and overbearing, smothering them in cuddles and their own personal healing remedies, hardly letting them lift a finger because ‘the doctor said you have to rest.’ Sure, it was almost laughable seeing them freeze over a smallest cough or having to ask permission to get up simply go to the bathroom.

But it was all love. Mingyu called each their families to confirm their favorite comfort foods, double checking he had the recipes right. Soonyoung had insisted on them wearing his fuzzy socks (despite Minghao’s protests that this was really just a campaign for the horanghae agenda.) Seokmin peeked into each of his hyung’s rooms every night, just to make sure they were breathing.

They would see to it that their hyungs could never hide their suffering from them like that again. And Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua were determined to prove them right.

#seventeen sickfic #seventeen sick #kpop sickfic #kpop sick #sickie s.coups #sickie jeonghan #sickie joshua #caretaker seventeen #svt sickfic #svt sick #darlingfics

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

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In My Dreams Tonight

for @chaotic-bard who asked me for some fluff!

have a soulmates that dream about each other au featuring both a modern au and the canon universe!

brought to you by “Dreams Tonite” by Alvvays

---

“You’re nothing but trouble, bard,” the tall man glared from atop his horse. He always seemed to be glaring or glowering or huffing, the man in Jaskier’s dreams. The familiar stranger wore his long white hair pulled halfway back and he had golden eyes, the pupils of which were slit up the center like a cat’s. His name, Jaskier had learned after the third straight week of seeing him every night, was Geralt of Rivia. A Witcher, apparently, whose job it was to hunt down monsters.

“Ah, but what a lovely piece of trouble I am!” Jaskier replies. And he’s rather sassy himself in these dreams. Far more clever and ready to fight than he is when he’s awake. “You would miss me if I left, wouldn’t you, Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

The stranger hums a lot. He glares and he hums. Jaskier’s heart stutters frightfully in his chest whenever the man smiles, though. The sight is rare. Geralt has smiled perhaps three times in the past two months.

“Where are we going today?”

“Werewolf outside of town. You’re staying at the inn, where I know you can’t get into… nevermind. You can get into trouble anywhere.”

There’s a lightly teasing tone to the stranger’s voice that Jaskier hasn’t really heard before. He likes it. He craves more of it. He tosses and turns in his sleep, his skin damp with sweat. The dream goes on.

“Geralt, please,” he whines, “I can’t write ballads about monsters I haven’t seen! Or fights I did not attend! That’s lying to my audience, Geralt, and I simply won’t do it. I must go with you.”

“Drop it, Jaskier,” the man snarls. Jaskier feels sad. Incredibly sad.

Rejected?

“Gera-”

“I said drop it, bard.”

Jaskier wakes up feeling a little heartbroken and he yearns to be held. His pillow holds the fading scents of leather and wood-smoke. The sight of a pine sapling at the dog park makes him tear up.

He starts to wear the color yellow out of nowhere and his taste in jewelry switches from gold to silver.

When his best friend asks him about the recent changes, he cannot answer.

---

Geralt pours himself a mug of tea and shakes his hair out of his face. He’s been having odd dreams lately, things that feel familiar but manage to stay just out of his conscious grasp. Someone important is waiting for him. Someone he love and cares about and needs.

Geralt doesn’t really buy into the concept of soulmates, but he does understand instinct. He knows to trust his gut. He knows to listen and start paying attention when the same haunting blue eyes creep into his dreams every night for six months, plaguing him in the waking hours by refusing to give up their owners’ identity.

He wipes a hand down his face and sighs loudly into the otherwise empty studio apartment. “Fuck me, I gotta figure this shit out. I gotta talk to Yen.”

Talking to himself has always helped him calm down. He does it again, just to hear his own low voice scraping through the silence.

“I gotta see what’s going on with my head. These dreams are… getting to be a bit much, even for me.”

He nods to no one in particular and goes to text his best friend and coworker.

---

Jaskier hops off the bus and carries his guitar case down to the coffee shop on the corner. Finally, he’s managed to get a gig that wasn’t through the university.

He sets up his stuff in the tiny alcove the shop treats as a stage and watches as a few customers stroll around near the counter, waiting for their drinks or reading through the menu, hovering just far away enough from the line to keep others from growing confused.

He loves people watching.

Once everything is ready to go and the light outside the window has dimmed a bit, indicating early evening has finally arrived, he pulls his guitar onto his lap and strums through a few quick chords.

“Rode here on the bus,

Now you're one of us.

It was magic hour,

Counting motorbikes on the turnpike;

One of Eisenhower's.”

“Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who starts a fire just to let it go out?”

He watches a particularly handsome man with broad shoulders and a vintage denim jacket approach the counter. Jaskier adds a haunting, well-practiced lilt to his voice as he goes into the chorus, hoping to get his attention:

“If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight?

If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight, tonight?”

An equally beautiful woman with long, curly black hair approaches the denim-clad angel and whisks him towards a table nearby. She settles with her back to Jaskier, leaving him with a decent view of the man’s sharp, lightly stubbled jaw, glittering eyes, and severe white ponytail. He’s gorgeous.

He’s also uncomfortably familiar.

Jaskier continues to perform, trying to identify his attractive mystery man the whole time and failing miserably.

---

“He’s everywhere, Yen. I feel like I could identify him by scent if I got close enough. I can’t remember his name, though. Or the color of his hair. I don’t know his face, only his eyes. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Have you talked to Dr. deStael about it?”

“Yeah, but she said this kind of thing is normal. Recurring dreams often help us sort out our trauma or something like that. I don’t know. I don’t feel traumatized by this guy I feel… protective of him. Maybe even like I love him?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Shut up for a minute, this live music actually slaps and I want to listen to it. Then we can discuss your weird possessive tendencies towards your dream boyfriend.”

Geralt takes a slow sip of his coffee and glances up at the singer off to their left, perched on a barstool with his guitar held carefully on his lap. His voice is soft but somehow bright. Geralt finds himself utterly entranced.

“On the weird guitar;

Said you'd go to work

In the waking hour.

In fluorescent light,

Antisocialites watch a wilting flower.”

“Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who builds a wall just to let it fall down?”

The lyrics are strange and hold a dream-like quality to them. They draw a picture in Geralt’s head, something dark and heavy and oddly hollow. He has another sip of coffee and tries to ignore the feeling of panic welling up inside him. He glances at Yennefer to see if she’s picked up on his mood, but her violet eyes are focused on the singer and his nimble fingers as he continues to play and sing.

When he glances up towards their table and their eyes meet, Geralt loses the ability to breathe.

That shade of cornflower blue was…

Couldn’t be…

Had to be…

The gorgeous, feathery tenor continues to fill the air, whirling pleasant notes past his ears and deep into his subconscious. Geralt knows that voice. He’s heard this man laugh and sing and cry and scream a thousand different times. Through a handful of different lives. Geralt knows that face, those hands, those strong legs and long arms and blue fucking eyes. He’s held this singer in his arms every night for centuries, feeling his breathing as they both drift off to sleep.

He has protected this man and been protected by him in return. He has kissed and been kissed, caressed and been caressed. The two men sitting across from each other in the coffee shop physically embody an endless cycle of love. It has been bound up in the souls of two no-longer strangers. Geralt knows that he knows this man.

He knows Jaskier.

Petal pink lips continue to form soft words and slender hands keep plucking at vibrating guitar strings:

“Don't sit by the phone for me,

Wait at home for me, all alone for me.

Your face was supposed to be

Hanging over me, like a rosary.”

Geralt stands suddenly, startling Yennefer but not the performer, even though he’s clearly just as shocked as Geralt about this recent development.

Their mutual realization.

“So morose for me,

Seeing ghosts of me,

Writing oaths to me,

Is it so naïve to wonder…”

Geralt crosses the room to the edge of the stage in three quick strides. Yennefer is close behind him, her latte just as abandoned as his coffee at their table. She grabs her friend’s arm as if to stop him from doing something violent, but when he doesn’t struggle against her grip she lets it go again easily.

“Geralt?” the musician asks.

“Jaskier?” Geralt replies. The guitar is placed quickly to the side and a pair of incredibly familiar arms are thrown around the taller man’s neck. Geralt hugs back just as firmly, his arms flung low around the brunette’s waist. Geralt knows that this is Jaskier’s favorite way to be embraced; he doesn’t know how he’s aware of that fact, but it comes to the front of his mind clear as day.

“Holy shit,” Jaskier breathes, leaning back to stare Geralt in the face. One of his string-calloused fingers traces down over Geralt’s eyelid and cheek and he cocks his head to the side. “No scar?”

“No,” Geralt shakes his head. “Not this lifetime, I guess.”

“Were we? Are we- are we, you know...?”

“Yeah,” Yen beams, adding her two cents from the sidelines. “I think so. Congrats, boys. This is one of those one in a million chances and you’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what?” Geralt asks. Jaskier tosses his head back and laughs. His happiness rings out through the cafe like a struck bell and Geralt’s heart stutters frantically. He really does love this man already. Wholeheartedly and without fear. “What have we done, Yen?”

“As obtuse now as you were then,” Jaskier chides affectionately. “Soulmates, my love. We’ve been bound by the red string of fate and ta-da! Here we are. Again, apparently.”

“Yes, okay,” Geralt breathes, nosing his way along Jaskier’s jaw with giddy determination. He presses a quick and wholly welcome kiss to the bard’s lips. “That makes sense.”

“Do you... do you want me again? This time around?” Jaskier asks, fingers fiddling with one of the ties on Geralt’s hoodie. A pair of chapped lips press against his again and he sighs into it, melting against his no-longer-Witcher.

“Yes. And the next one, as well.”

#bouncey's sappy hours #geraskier #geraskier fluff #yen #yennefer #yenerference kinda #getting together #soulmate au #prophetic dreams #geraskier soulmate au #geraskier soulmates #shared dreams #modern au #geraskier modern au #kissing #first kiss #magically getting together #prompt fill

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chuckbass-love · 4 years ago

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can i request a super smutty one shot of chris evans and hes obsessed with doing anal and it's the filthiest hottest thing ever ??? i love ur work btw :))

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for the request and i really apologise for the delay. I’ve been working on a couple other things and obviously Christmas time has been hectic too. However, it’s here now and i hope you love it. Also thank you reading my work, your support means a whole lot and i really appreciate you🥰

A/N: Not written smut in a while so please give feedback as i’m anxious and worried that this is shit. Also, part 5 for Only Love Can Hurt Like This will be out soon. So strap yourselves in for that.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, FILTH, anal fingering, anal intercourse, oral (f, receiving), vaginal fingering and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,054

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @myimaginesworld go check them out❤️

New Obsession

If you were to tell the truth about how you felt a week ago, then it would be that anal made you nervous. Well, not anymore.

You’ve been with Chris for around a year now, which to many wouldn’t seem like a long time but to the two of you, it feels like a lifetime.

He had a way of automatically putting you at ease with everything. Especially in the bedroom or whenever it came to opening up emotionally and even now, that’s still the case.

He treats you like a queen.

Last week whilst the pair of you were lounging around his Massachusetts home with Dodger nestled in between your legs as you lay in between Chris’s legs. He randomly asked you some rather explicit questions.

Ones mostly about your ass and what you’d let him do to it. It started off with him asking about eating your ass, playing with it and then eventually he asked if you’d ever have anal sex with him,

The mere thought had your puckered hole clenching and your tight cunt slowly starting to drip with your honey like arousal. Yeah sure, you were terrified but you’d always been curious and wanted to explore new territory with him.

You love him and you trust him with your life so you agreed to try.

And after a nice romantic meal, a lot of wine on your part, beer on his. You ended up kissing on the couch. It started off very slow until he stood up with you in his arms, carrying you to the master bedroom. The journey there was spent with his large hand splaying across your soft globes, squeezing them aggressively like he just couldn’t wait to have his filthy way with you.

That night was certainly crazy to say the least. You were a little sore after which only led to Chris kissing you on your delicate hole a couple times and running you a bubble bath.

He’s the king of after care with you. Always checking in with you before, during and after to see if you enjoyed it. The last thing he’d ever want is for you to be in pain or danger.

Since that night though, you’ve been doing it whenever you can. It’s like an addiction. The feel of his huge cock pushing into your forbidden and tight hole is something you can never even begin to explain. It just feels incredible. Plus your little cunt gets extremely excited at all of the attention. Chris tends to rub at your bundle of nerves or even dip his fingers into your honey pot, 3 at once. He says he never wants your pussy to be left untouched.

But like you’ve said. It’s like an addiction to you both. In fact, he’s crazy for it.

The grunts that leave his mouth always have you keening for him to go deeper and deeper inside of you. Every inch of him.

Tonight is no exception.

You had a lovely day at his parent’s house. Lisa cooked a gorgeous lunch and all of Chris’ siblings visited with their kids and partners.

You and Scott spent the entire day laughing and joking about the many times you scared Chris. It’s like a running joke in this family plus Chris hates being scared. He calls himself the master of scaring people so when the tables are turned he gets this huge need to get them back.

Whenever Chris is horny or desperate for you, he has his ways of letting you know without actually saying the words.

For example.

You were helping Lisa with some of the last minute prep for lunch by taking stuff out of the oven and placing it onto dishes to then put on the table.

Chris was sat at the kitchen island, sipping on a beer. Well, he was practically gulping it down. You were in the kitchen also.

Lisa asked if you could take the quiche out of the oven and leave it on the cooling rack. Chris’s eyes followed your ass as you bent over. Something you had anticipated to happen since he’s an ass man and your ass in particular drives him insane.

You turned around to place it on the cooling rack and that’s when you saw his flushed cheeks. His eyes full of hunger and lust. Animalistic even.

Before you left to go to his parent’s house, he was begging for you to ride him quickly.

“It’ll only be a quick one, just wanna feel that ass around my cock again”

His whining was more than tempting and now, since you rejected his offer, he was so close to taking you upstairs into his old childhood room to ram into you.

But instead. Lunch was served and he didn’t have the time.

Hours had passed until eventually it was time to go. Lisa gave you some of the leftover quiche since Chris enjoyed it so much and the two of you got into the car with you in the driving seat this time.

“You’re such a fuckin tease baby” he slurred

“And why’s that?” you asked, feigning innocence as you started driving. With his house not being far from his parent’s house, the journey was only around 10 minutes, not even that.

He never responded to you, just smirked as he sat back in his seat.

The moment you got home however, he was all over you like a rash. You shut the front door and locked it just before he pushed you into it.

Your cheek squished against the cold door.

“Chris” you squealed, he didn’t respond though.

You felt his body lower until you were pretty sure he was on his knees, lifting your sundress up and hooking his thick digits into your soaked panties. He yanked them down and tapped your legs for you to step out of them.

“There they are. God i’ve missed this pretty little asshole and oh my, look at this soaked cunt. All for me, huh baby?” you knew that he was well aware of the kind of effect he had on you and your body but he still liked confirmation from your mouth.

“Yes, daddy. It’s all for you. Please”

Whenever you’re around Chris and about to have sex, you find yourself turning into this pathetic woman who is literally his whore. You crave his touch. You crave the feel of his cock ploughing into you so hard that you forget your own name and he loves how hungry you get.

He stood up then, his eyes dancing over your body, the only thing wrong with the view was that you had clothes on. He soon changed that, stripping you completely before getting back down onto his knees.

Which is how you got here.

Your one leg is over his shoulder and your fingers are tangled up in his hair that was once styled.

“Fuck. Daddy. Yes. Just. Like. That” your breathing is heavy and your heart is beating rapidly. His fingers working wonders inside of you whilst his mouth is sucking on your clit.

You’re on the cusp of yet another mind blowing orgasm from just his fingers and mouth alone. He’s already had you messing all over his fingers once but clearly once wasn’t enough if he’s trying to draw another from you.

He’s always been greedy like that.

“Come on baby, i know you got another one in you, give it to me” his fingers start to curl ever so slightly, pressing at that spot inside a couple more times before you’re falling.

Your cum sliding down his digits beautifully. Just the way he likes.

Before you even have the chance to speak, he’s spinning you back around and spreading your ass cheeks to reveal his new obsession.

Seconds later his tongue is pressed against it, circling too.

You shiver at the sensation, your back arches and your hands rest either side of the door frame. In hopes that it’ll steady you.

“There she is, my little whore”

You bite down on your bottom lip as your eyes roll to the back of your head. There’s no point in trying to hold back the moans anymore and with one final lick to your eager hole you let out a loud pornographic style moan.

With Chris, it’s always hard to hold back and he knows that. There’s been so many times when he’s tested you, fucking you in public areas. But the worst one was when you were in his L.A home.

Lisa came to visit at the very beginning of your relationship. You went for some nice lunch and then dinner which was courtesy of your excellent cooking.

Chris put her up for the weekend and boy did he choose that night to initiate some pretty filthy sex.

You were lying on your stomach and trying to sleep when you felt his hands wondering. Then all of a sudden he’s spitting on his cock for lube, stroking it a couple times before sliding into your pussy with ease. All thanks to your permanent need for him.

The way he fucked you that night was most certainly sinful to say the least. His room being next door to the guest room where his mother was sleeping. You’re surprised she didn’t say something the next day. Chris had to keep pushing your head into the pillow to muffle your pleasure filled screams.

“So eager for my cock i see but not so fast baby. Gotta get you ready first” the raspiness of his voice makes everything ten times hotter and you can quite literally feel him inside of you without it being a reality.

He stands up and his finger starts to circle before he slowly pushes it in, taking his time to prepare you for another one of his thick digits.

They glide across the walls inside.

One more is added and another until your ass is stretched out nicely.

He continues to work you over, scissoring his fingers too. Despite doing it a lot already, preparation is key with anal.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Please, i need it” you mewl

He lowers his head so that his mouth is just by your ear and his breath fans your skin “yeah, need it huh? Need daddy’s cock deep inside this tight ass of yours?”

You nod your head aggressively, you couldn’t look more keen if you tried.

“How bad you need it baby, tell me. Tell daddy like a good girl” he whispers, his cologne filling your nose and intoxicating you more than ever as his hand reaches in front to rub at your sensitive clit.

“Please, daddy. I need your cock in my ass. I need it so much”

Before you got with Chris, dirty talk wasn’t necessarily something you even thought about during sex but he introduced you to that world. And what a world it is. It seemed as though, the more you did it, the dirtier you got.

Nicknames were thrown around, more kinks were even explored and you became the pinnacle of a mans dream. Woman in the streets, freak in the sheets.

Such a princess to the public. But for Chris. You’re a whore. Only for him though.

“Beg for it baby” he insists, his fingers press down harder as he rubbing pace quickens.

You can feel the tip of his huge size poking at your hole. Just a push and it’ll be forcing it’s way inside of you, stretching you out even more than his fingers did and filling you up in the best way.

“Daddy, give it to me. Stuff my ass full of your cock please. I need it”

“Such a good girl, my good girl. S’fucking tight baby” the pair of you hiss as he begins to push into you, tearing that sweet ass open.

He’s always loved how tight your ass is and if he had it his way, his cock would remain seated inside of you all day every day. Where it belongs. With your peachy ass cheeks adding to the incredible view.

Every time he fucks you from behind, he spoils you with spanking after spanking, not letting up until your ass is sore and it stings to touch. Luckily, you love it, always begging for more.

And tonight is no different.

His hands rest on both globes, rubbing and kneading before eventually lifting off and smacking back down, earning a gasp from your mouth.

With every inch, he gets closer and closer to bottoming out until before you know it, he’s seated deep inside of your ass.

His fingers find your pussy immediately, sliding inside with no time to waste and then it starts. His thrusting. Slow at first of course.

Gradually getting faster and faster.

“Feel me deep in that fuckin ass huh? My little cock whore. Love getting fucked in this ass baby?” the pure filth leaving his mouth has your clit throbbing under his thumb.

“Answer daddy when he speaks to you” he mutters, spanking your ass and gripping your face with one hand and forcing you to turn your head a bit more so that you’re looking at him “sorry daddy” you pout, face flushed just like his was earlier at lunch.

“And?”

“Feels so good with your cock fucking my ass like that, i need it deeper” you cry out, waiting for his pace to change. His hips snap against your skin as he presses you back into the door with his hand tangled in your hair.

He pulls on it harshly causing you to wince in pain. It all adds to the earth shattering pleasure though, you love when he gets like this.

Ever since you first tried anal last week, he’s turned into this animal. He wants to fuck your ass mercilessly whenever he can. Whenever it’s possible and it’s times like these when he’s glad his house is away from others. He can fuck you as hard and as rough as he likes and your moans won’t be heard by anyone. Absolute bliss.

“That’s it baby, take daddy’s cock like the whore you are. Take it deep” he draws the last word out, his breathing hitches and so does yours as you choke on a moan.

“Take. It”

One smack to your ass cheeks.

“My filthy anal loving whore”

Two smacks to your ass cheeks.

“I always secretly knew you’d love this and i was right. Such a dirty little girl for her daddy, aren’t you?” His fingering pace picks up, ramming into you with such vigor as his cock slows down into hard and rough thrusts.

“Let me hear those sweet noises baby, don’t hide them from me. Sing it for daddy, let me know how good i make you feel”

Your back arches and your face lifts off of the door, head falling back to rest on his chest “please, i’m gonna cum, don’t stop i need it” your desperate whimpers are enough to have him ploughing into your ass harder and faster, his grunts, growls and cursing lets you know how close he is to his own earth shattering orgasm.

“Is daddy’s little girl gonna cum too, huh? Gonna cum with daddy, all over my fingers baby as i spill my cum into your ass again. Like last time?”

“Yes daddy, please, i need it. Give me your cum”

“Such a beg, god you feel so fucking good. Can feel that cunt clenching round my fingers. Cumming baby? Huh, gonna cream all over my fingers like the whore you are?”

All you can muster is a pathetic nod and a whine. You’re so close now.

And just like that, with a couple more thrusts in both holes. You clamp down on his cock and fingers, your clit pulsating again as you cum with a shaky sob of his name.

And of course with your pleasure, his is spurred on. You can feel him twitch and spasm inside as he chokes your name out too. Spilling his hot seed into your ass.

“So fucking good” his heart is beating, you feel it as you lay your head on his chest.

“My good girl, taking it like a pro. I’ll never grow tired of that”

He slowly pulls out, making his way to the bathroom and taking your hand so that you can follow him.

Once there, you get this sudden wave of confidence.

“I already miss your cock inside of me” he runs a wash cloth underneath the hot tap for a couple seconds, before using it to clean himself up. He starts running a bath too but you don’t want one.

You want him.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it again after our bath then won’t we?” he wraps his hand around your wrist, tugging you close so that you’re flush against him.

“What if i don’t want a bath?”

He raises his eyebrows at you in question.

“You want me to fuck your ass again?”

Now that he’s saying it out loud, you feel a tinge of embarrassment.

“Come here and sit on this fucking cock then baby, daddy would hate to disappoint you”

So you do exactly that, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

“You’re only fuelling the flame baby”

“I don’t know what you mean” your innocence shining through as you turn your head to look at him through your batting eyelashes.

“This ass of yours, you know what it does to me, having my cock buried inside of it. It’s my new obsession” he starts, caressing your cheek before gliding his hand across your body “now. Show daddy how you bounce on his cock”

It would be your pleasure.

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

I hope this was great and that you all love it!!! Honest feedback pls...💜

I’ve not written smut in a hot minute so if it’s shit i understand.

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferouss @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @rockyrogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo

LMK if you want to be added to my tag list!

#chris evans #chris evans smut #cevans #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x female reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #reader inserts #smut #request

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jediknightobiwan · 4 years ago

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Boba smut, you say?

Could I get some dad bod Boba love post-Mandalorian season 2, if you've finished the new episode? Because our man definitely deserves some love after that shit. I personally headcannon him as being dominant AF, with lots of pet names, and a tendency to be a little rougher. Maybe some post-battle fucking to wind down in Slave I.

Thanks!

OFC We love Dad Bods here I will NOT tolerate Temura hate like at all. We don’t expect women to stay the same all their lives and we shouldn’t expect the same of men.

In talks with @emilykjh we decided that Boba decidedly, is a brat tamer so I’m definitely going along the dominant caregiver route with him.

Also tbh and probably shockingly I haven’t watched the new season all the way through AT ALL it was emotionally too much for me when it started so now I can binge it whenever 😅 I just learn things through gifs cause I don’t mind spoilers! So things may be very Vague when it comes to plot or I’ll just go with what I’ve gathered happens after the last episode. But let’s do some Older Boba stuff yes, everyone who understood the significance of Boba’s appearance better say thank you Mr. Temuera for your service.

Boba Fett x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Caregiver/Little BDSM relationship, Daddy Kink, Age Gap (cmon he’s in his 50’s), slight drool kink, slight degradation, slight choking

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

[[READ MORE]]

Your ears perk up at the sound of heavy bootsteps on their way and you quickly rush to clean up your little area. Ever since Boba had taken his throne and conquered most of the underworld you and him and Fennec who you adored had made a nice little home for yourselves. What Boba teasingly called your nest was a corner of his throne room that you (and Fennec) had padded and stuffed with pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, one very long and squishy pillow and a very very large cushion you called your tuffet. It was cute little safe space you sat, read and napped in when you wanted a little alone time.

It was usually a kind of organized chaos but lately you had let it get a bit wild and before Boba had left earlier he’d told you to have it cleaned up by the time he was back, and like a true Little who usually forgot orders once they were given and wasn’t reminded you had become distracted with other things. Which is why now you were slightly sweating under your soft robe as you scrambled to set everything in its proper place so he would never know you��d-

The steps had stopped echoing. You suddenly realized besides the slick of fabric between your fingers and your little pants that the room had actually been quiet for a minute or so. You swallowed a little hard but continued your work, spreading out soft blanket on your tuffet and then tucking it underneath. Finally, you smoothed your front and turned with a smile ready for your lover.

“Daddy! You’re home! See I uhm..I did my one chore today!” You were beaming, a little sweat on your brow and your voice was sweet and welcoming. In return Boba tilted his helmeted head at you in such a way that you knew what was he was saying without him needing to voice it.

Really? Did you? Is what that look said and you fidgeted slightly, lower lip jutting out every so softly.

Well-it still counts! Doesn’t it?? Your look said and after another moment of silence you hear a sigh come from him and he finally comes toward you with a gloved hand extended to cup your face.

“I suppose I’ll let it slide today,” he says, thumb gliding over your lower lip as his eyes bore into you from behind the visor. “I’m too tired to properly punish you for waiting until the last second anyway.”

The words were slightly worrying but if something was really wrong he would’ve told you, so you brushed it off and kissed his thumb gently.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promise, reaching to cup his helmet in your hands and then bringing your foreheads together in a keldabe kiss. He hums deep in his throat, his way of saying that you’d better.

“What can I do tonight? A hot bath? A massage?” You gasped and jumped a little, grinning. “Both??”

Boba chuckles and removes his helmet, the smile still on his handsome scarred face. “How about just a massage pet? My old muscles could use it.”

“Ah you’re not old cyare.”

You giggle at his eyebrow raise and pat his cheeks then push gently on his chest plate to back him into the hallway and towards his bedroom. Once inside the large yet fairly bare room you begin the slow and intimate process of removing his armor for him. It was something you’d been doing for awhile now, ever since you’d settled into your roles. He did so much...it was one sweet thing you could do for him back.

The tension was practically melting out of your love’s shoulders as the beskar came off. Your arms had long since adjusted to the armor’s weight over the months of this sweet ritual and the warmth of Boba’s soft eyes as he watched you easily carry his prized possessions never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the galaxy. Your skin felt fully flushed by the time he was sitting on the bed and you’d removed his boots for him.

“My sweet little Dove...,” Boba murmurs, reaching out his now ungloved hands for your hips and bringing you closer, his face now level with your chest. You smile he nuzzles against your soft skin and hum happily, arms sliding into position around his broad shoulders without a second thought.

Dove. How you loved your pet name from him. You were his sweet thing, his Little, his pure (he insisted you were pure compared to him and you’d given up trying to convince him otherwise) darling treasure. Your soft lips pressed kisses to his head and you murmured, “My Daddy...,” to which you could feel his smile against your skin just stoking flames inside you.

You remained entertwined for awhile longer, both just caressing each other sweetly and basking in the loving bubble you created each time you were together. And then you remembered what you were supposed to be doing and gasped, pulling away to look down at Boba.

“Your massage!”

Boba blinks at you in confusion for a second and then laughs, keeping a tight grip on your hips even as you go to pull away and get the oil. He gently grips your chin -effectively stopping your struggling-and brings your lips to his. You sigh softly into the kiss and simply melt like wax beneath a flame into his arms-apt considering it immediately stoked the soft fire that had begun to burn in your belly the moment you saw him into a good sized blaze.

A whine escapes your lips even as Boba depeens the kiss and pulls you onto his lap fully with your crotches rubbing together sinfully.

“Don’t laugh at me Daddy,” you whine, kissing his broad nose and then going back to his mouth. Your arms slide down around his waist and you squeeze, taking petty pleasure in the way his breath escapes him when you do. “It’s mean!”

Your Caregiver seems to, funnily enough, care, very little about your plight since as you whine he just hums and runs his big hands down to your ass and squeezes none too gently. He grins devilishly as you jump and kisses you again, lingering longer this time and swiping his tongue over your lips before he pulls away.

“So what if it is? You like it when I’m mean Dove baby...you know you can’t lie to me.” Boba jerks you closer to him and ruts his hips upwards against you, causing you to whine loudly as want shoots through your core painfully.

“Yeah baby that’s what I thought....you like it when I’m mean. Big bad mean Daddy...ain’t that right?” The older man swats at your ass when you don’t answer, your brain becoming mushy already from the feel of his body beneath your hands and his impressive cock only growing harder and longer against the apex of your thighs. “I asked you a direct question little Dove. You know I don’t like it when you don’t answer.”

After shaking your head to clear it just a little and your hands balling up his undershirt to hang on for dear life you manage a nod with your mouth open just a tad, unnoticed by you but very noticed by your lover. His eyes drop to your lips and he growls slightly, strong hands kneading at the soft flesh of your ass before he delivers two hard, stinging pops to your backside.

“Speak, cyar’ika, speak when Daddy tells you to.”

Maker you are just gone for him. You swallow the water that had gathered in your mouth at the rough handling and say clearly, full of need that that’s right, Daddy is a big bad man...your big bad man...and you even elaborate on how you love him so for it. Wetting your lips you rock against him as he basks in your obedience and drinking in his soft moan like wine, your lips rubbing against his.

“Let me massage you Daddy...I said I would...cmon. Please? Let me help?” The groan Boba emits tells you that he’s thinking of something else now, something with him on top but before he can open his mouth to give an order your bratty, slightly manipulative side comes out and you use your saccharine please Daddy do this for me or I’ll be oh so sad voice to plead to him.

“Oh please Daddy? Let me make you feel better. You said yourself you’re tired! You need a rest, just a brief one and then...” You untie your robe and let it fall, your whole body bare to him now, causing the erection between you to pulse. Your fingertips graze his throat as you tilt his face up towards yours and bite his lower lip teasingly. “You can massage my insides with that big cock of yours~ How’s that sound?”

Judging by the growl in his throat and chest- Boba likes the idea very much, and you have to fight to keep the smirk off your face. Drawing on some confidence just to tease him more you get off his lap and order him to strip and lay on the soft king sized bed the two of you shared. You could see his brown eyes narrow, debating on whether or not to just grab you and throw you on the bed and mount you like a fucking animal, but when he stood something popped in his shoulder audibly...and he stripped without a word.

The control you had over your face slipped and your grin shined out in full force as your older boyfriend complied to your demands. Really he was just a big softy with as much love to give as he had muscles and cute love handles. While he disrobed you found the bottle of massage oil he’d brought you back from one of his excursions that had multiple uses when came to making things easier, and fluffed the pillow in the middle of the bed that he always used. Your bed was so nice and so soft with lots of room for the two of you and yet Boba always slept in the middle, arms right around you and you near the edge facing the bathroom.

But you didn’t mind, you thought as you watched him lay down on his stomach with his head cradled by the now fluffy pillow and his tan body stretched out of the dark sheets. However he wanted to sleep-even if he sometimes squeezed too hard during a dream-was fine with you, as long as you were together.

‘Not gonna stand around all afternoon lookin’ at my ass are you?” You blinked and focused on Boba who was now smirking at you.

“Pbbbbt,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “No of course not! But if I was, who could blame me? It is a wonderful sight.” You climbed onto the bed as he chuckled. Knowing it would be uncomfortable for him and his still hard cock if you sat on his hips, you opted to sit more on his juicy ass instead. He hummed at the weight of you and relaxed into the pillow.

“Well if you think so it must be true,” he mumbles, “you are almost always right little Dove.”

“I am always right,” you corrected, dribbling the ever warm oil onto his broad back. He purred, and you knew it was because of the oil, but you liked to think it was because of you so you smirked. “That’s what I thought~”

You went to work then on his sore muscles, flexing your own to work the knots out with your skilled hands. Boba let his noises out freely as you worked; grunting, groaning, moaning and even at times whimpering with your palms smoothing over every inch of him you could reach.

The sun had sunk a bit by the time you were done and Boba rolled onto his back so you could finally straddle his hips. The evidence of your arousal from massaging him and his cute little noises was pressed against his balls. Your hands were on his chest and he was smoothing his own up your back slowly, sending shivers up your spine.

“My Dove...,” Boba starts on a soft sigh, his hands pulling down now to your hips to begin a gentle rocking. His cock was hardening again between the two of you and your own arousal was growing each second. “You love such a man like me? Old, a bit chubby, scarred?”

A soft sigh escaped you at the rocking, finally just a little bit of the release you had been craving since his return. You looked deeply, lovingly into Boba’s beautiful eyes. To you he was the most beautiful man in the galaxy, no matter how much he complained about his aching joints or how he was too old for you.

“Oh silly Daddy...” You sighed, taking the bottle of oil one more time and drizzling just a little on his perfect cock before taking it in your hand. His eyes darken as he watches you tilt your hips and line thick head of him up with your hole, his large hands gripping your hips tightly with anticipation. Taking the head of his cock you slap it against your hole before popping it inside and sinking down so slowly you knew his hands were going to leave bruises from gripping you so tight.

Once he was fully seated inside you you rotated your hips and opened your eyes just enough to give him a heady look. “As if I was destined for anyone else...”

You managed a wink before succumbing fully to your want for your lover, the fire he’d been stoking now turning into a raging storm with his thickness stretching you out perfectly. You both reached for each other at the same time and your mouths collided hotly as you bounced on him at an already quick pace. No time to adjust fully, fuck, Maker it just felt so good to be impaled on him again that you were frantic and starving for it. Teeth clashed, fingernails marks were definitely being left in sensitive areas and after just a minute or so you pulled away from the messy kissing to angle yourself better and slam onto Boba.

Your head was thrown back beautifully as you screamed your devotion to him, to his perfect fucking cock that was literally making you drool even while you were split open by it. Boba growled seeing the slick moisture on your lips and he sat up, yanking you close with a strong hand on the back of your neck. His hips met a bounce of yours and you cried out-only to have the noise muffled by a big thumb in your mouth. His other arm was right around you waist, keeping you on him but unmoving.

“That’s my sweet baby...suck on Daddy’s thumb...yeah just like that-fuck.” Even cockdrunk you knew how to work your lover up, sucking on his thumb dutifully and as enthusiastically as you did your favorite appendage of his. You even took his one hand in both your smaller ones to bring the digit further inside and you could swear Boba pulsed so hard inside you you thought he’d finished for a second.

He pushed down on your tongue hard and dragged your jaw with him, and much to your initial chagrin and then immediate arousal, let a long stream of drool pool out and fall where you were connected with him. You moaned at the filth of it and at the complete submissive state you were in. Literally, you were in the palm of Boba Fett’s hand.

Boba groaned and smirked at you, looking at the wet spot and then back at you. “Such a good pet aren’t you? I love it when you get me soaked little one~”

Maker you felt like exploding right then! But he wasn’t done with you, oh no. He pulled his thumb from your obscenely wet mouth, sucked your salvia from it and then rolled, pulling out of you with a wet echoing sound. He easily manhandled you with your hips popped up and grabbed your pillow to bury your face in. He slid back home with no resistance and you moaned freely, your eyes rolling back and your lower lip getting caught between your teeth.

“Mmmmm my sweet little pet...such a good slut for me aren’t you? Always so needy...so ready for Daddy to come home and take care of you...” As he spoke he’d started thrusting into you, gaining in speed. “Fuck...baby, I love you so fucking much, so, fucking, much!”

Now he was straight pummeling you. Your voice was going to be nonexistent when he was through with you if this kept up, your nails digging into your pillow so hard your knuckles were white and you could do nothing but spread your legs wider for him like the slut he’d called you. You were Boba Fett’s personal slut, his little Dove and his soulmate-nothing in the galaxy could be better than this.

As he neared his end he made sure to drag the fat head of his cock along those special spots inside you he knew so well while his mouth bit and sucked on the external spots until your toes curled so tightly he joked that they may never uncurl, the smug bastard. His lips found your neck again in a sweet spot as he bent over you, slamming so deep inside you could taste his precum on your tongue.

“Cum for me baby,” he murmurs, callused thumbs flicking over your nipples before one palm encloses over your throat and squeezes the sides deliciously. “Cum for Daddy little one.”

It was no question, no suggestion, it was a demand. And like the good Little you could be when you wanted, you obeyed. One last scream was ripped from your throat as you were pushed off that ledge into white hot pleasure so perfect it enveloped your whole body. Boba held you as you became tense and then limp, his own release coming not far after yours (not surprising given how hard your insides had been squeezing him) and as always overfilling you in a way you could only describe as obscenely delicious.

“Good job little Dove. I’m so proud.” Came a voice from above and behind you. You knew it was Boba, you knew yet somehow a little voice in your head thought it was the Maker talking to you. Your lips quirked in a little smile as exhausted gasps left your now limp body, only held up by Boba’s hands and his cock that was still pumping cum into you. You felt lips along your neck so lovingly and you sighed contentedly.

“I love you...” you whispered, beginning to fall asleep with him still cradled inside you.

He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your ear, rubbing your back soothingly before very slowly sliding out of you.

“I love you too baby...go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

It would be hours before you woke, cleaned up and tightly nestled into Boba’s arms as always with the two of you so close it was like you had been born that way. And when you did you squeezed his middle tightly enough for him to softly grunt and then settled back with him, feeling for all the galaxy like you were the luckiest person alive because no one could love you like Boba Fett. And you couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

@emilykjh @sailorsquadgoals @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @ohdeargodnotyouagain @ihaveashield @ezraslittlebirdie @labyrinth-runner @asaucecoveredsomething @thisainttheway @anakinswhore @sleepwithacommunist

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba Fett x you #boba fett x reader #gender neutral reader #Star Wars #star wars fanfic #my fanfic

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

Text

with you [chapter 7]

Summary: Clementine pops the question, Louis has nightmares, Violet can’t let go of the past, Mitch doesn’t know how to handle gross feelings, Ruby’s a goddamn sweetheart, Willy doesn’t ever remember to knock, Aasim can’t dance, and James is here, too.

Nothing like a wedding to bring this family together.

Note: Apparently one o’clock in the morning is when my brain wants to write and actually do stuff now. Hooray.

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7

Read on: AO3

---

The window's open.

Louis slips in and out of darkness, stuck between a dreamless calm and a waking reality. Cool air drifts in through the cracked window, brushing against the bare skin of his arm. A grumble bubbles up his throat as he pulls the blanket closer to his chin.

It's not the morning chill or the golden glow flowing in through the parted curtains that wakes him up, though.

A gentle hand shakes his shoulder.

A familiar presence looms over-- he can feel it even in his drowsy state.

Nothing dangerous, of course. Otherwise, he'd be bolting out of bed in a blind search for Chairles.

He rolls over onto his side, eyes too heavy to open.

"Louis?"

The hand grasps his shoulder again, this time shaking a little harder. His grogginess worsens. It’s as if someone poured wet cement into his bones. He reaches out over the empty spot next to him in search of Clementine’s warmth, inhaling the morning air and letting it out with a groan.

The hand shakes him again, harder this time, so he grabs and holds it.

"U-uh-"

Louis buries his face in his pillow, his voice coming out muffled, groggy, "Darling, come back to bed."

"Louis!"

His nose smashes against the mattress.

"Ow! Hey!"

He's ready to complain about such a rude awakening until he realizes whose hand he's still holding.

The room is awkwardly silent until Louis mumbles, "You're not Clementine."

"No," Aasim pulls free and hits Louis with the pillow, "no, I'm not."

Louis snatches the pillow back, fluffing and tucking it under his head with a heavy sigh. "How long have you been watching me sleep?" he yawns. "I didn't take you for the creeper type."

"I wasn't watching you sleep," Aasim rolls his eyes. "I came to wake you up. We're going hunting."

"Hunting?"

Well, that’s the first he's heard of this.

He and Aasim usually go hunting every few days, and they just went the day before. Louis props himself on his elbows to peer up at him with a dull expression. Another yawn builds in his throat.

"You must have your days mixed up," he says. "Mitch and Willy go today. We're not supposed to go ‘til tomorrow, so we can all go back to bed now. Goodnight."

"No, it’s our turn," Aasim says quickly. "We gotta go now. James was out there earlier and he saw a deer."

A...

A what?

"A deer?" Louis perks a brow. "Sure it wasn't just a big possum? Or a walker on all fours? Maybe even a bunch of bunnies standing on each other's shoulders?"

"He's pretty damn sure it was a deer," Aasim insists, spreading the window curtains farther apart. More light floods in, causing Louis to wince as his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. He yanks the blanket fully over his head, curling up.

"He's already out there tracking it,” Aasim grabs Louis’ coat from off the desk chair and tosses it to him, “so we gotta move fast if we want any chance of hunting it. We also have to check the traps and make sure the fishing shack is still secure."

"A deer?" Louis presses again from beneath the blanket. "Like, a real deer? Like Bambi?”

“Bambi was a cartoon.”

Aasim jerks the blanket off, dropping it to the floor far from Louis’s reach.

“You know what I mean,” Louis sighs, squinting back up at him. “We've never seen a deer out there, like, ever. Not even at the beginning."

"Well, James just saw one, so... Get up and get ready. We're leaving soon.”

Aasim scratches at his chin, turning to gaze about the room, searching for something.

Louis swings his legs over the side of the bed and stretches out his arms, groaning in satisfaction as the muscles loosen.

“How soon is ‘soon’?”

“As soon as you put your boots on.”

Louis lets out an exaggerated groan.

This definitely isn’t what he had planned for this morning.

He planned on waking up to Clementine sleeping peacefully beside him, happier and more content than she was last night.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen her so physically upset.

He knows Clementine well enough by now. He knows that she still holds in most of those awful feelings. Whenever something upsets her, or even after she has a nightmare of her own, her face defaults to a stoic expression. Whether she does it out of habit, or because she doesn’t want him or anyone else to worry, or some concoction of both, he’s not entirely sure.

She has enough room within her to bottle it up. She has the strength to hold it in.

Hee wishes he was more like that.

Sometimes, he felt he was bursting at the seams.

And there she always was, trying to sew him back together.

Seeing her like that… shit, it’s one of the most hopeless feelings when all you can do is hold someone without the power to heal their pain.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I talked to Violet…”

Violet.

Shit, what could’ve possibly brought that on?

He hadn’t asked, even though he wanted to. God, he really wanted to. He’s so desperate to know... why now? Did it just happen, or has it been weighing heavier in her mind again? What was it about? Why didn’t she tell him?

He didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was, though, so he left it alone. She would tell him when she was ready.

And, Violet…

He can’t imagine how she must be feeling right now.

He watches Aasim as he paces over to AJ’s desk, stopping to look over the several drawings hanging on the wall.

Louis really doesn’t want to go hunting.

He already had his morning planned out.

First, he’d wake up and kiss Clementine before her watch. Or, if she already left, go find her and then kiss her.

It’s sort of a rule he has. While Louis was never one for strict rules or planning, he does have certain things that have to be done. Kissing Clementine every day is one of those rules.

Okay, maybe it’s not considered a rule, per se.

But, he made sure to kiss her every morning, and whenever one of them left to go hunting or scavenging or on watch without the other, and every night before bed. It didn’t have to be a crazy, passionate kiss. Sometimes, just a little peck on the cheek was enough.

It made him feel better, even if he knows it’s his subconscious telling him, “Kiss her! It might be your last chance! Death is always watching you, Louis!”

A lovely thought, as usual.

After he kissed her, he’d ask her if she was feeling any better, or if she wanted to talk about it. Whether she would or not, he didn’t know.

Next, he’d grab two plates of breakfast and head over to Violet’s room. If she answered, they’d eat together. If she didn’t answer or let him in, she’d at least have food waiting for her. Then, he’d find Tenn to keep an eye on her, make sure she ate.

However, it seems that Aasim’s determined to foil those plans all in the name of some deer James supposedly saw.

Seriously, a deer?

Louis tries to rub the drowsiness from his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. Aasim might as well have said, “Hey! Leprechauns are frolicking in the woods! Quick! Let’s go get their gold!”

Well, okay, maybe a deer is more plausible than a leprechaun.

But, still.

When Aasim notices Louis’s lack of movement and vacant stare, he crosses his arms and shoots him a stern look.

“Now, dude.”

Louis scratches the back of his neck as he hangs his head. “Do you really need me to go?” he asks. “I mean, it’s not like we need three people tracking a deer that may or may not be a figment of James’ imagination.”

“It’s not a figment of his imagination,” Aasim insists. “Will you just put your boots on? We’re wasting daylight.”

“You’re awfully pushy this morning.”

“No, I just-” Aasim stops, looking away. "I want that deer, okay?"

Louis studies him for a moment as he pulls on his jacket, trying to understand the stress prominent in his features.

"Dude, if you're so worried about the deer, just go without me-"

"No! No, you- I-uh, " Aasim presses his mouth into a thin line. His eyes dart around at the floor. He wears a taut expression that Louis recognizes. It's one that Aasim usually has when he's jotting down the day's events and he can't figure out how to word something.

Louis gets off the bed, hands on his hips and head cocked curiously.

"You okay?"

"You have to come with me," Aasim says slowly. He scratches at his scruffy chin and looks towards to door, saying, “We need three people to carry it back when we get it.”

“I doubt it. Two people’s enough.”

“No, three people are needed to safely carry it.”

“James’ strong. Honestly, the dude could probably drag it back here himself. You don’t need me there.”

Then, Aasim blurts out, "I-I don't want to be alone with James.”

Louis almost laughs.

"What?"

"Uh-” Aasim stutters, “Yeah, he makes me nervous, okay? You guys are friends. If you go, he'll have someone to talk to and I won't have to worry about him."

“Are you serious? I thought you two got along. You talk to him every time he’s here. Hell, don’t you always eat together, too?”

“That- that doesn’t mean anything. Will you just put your damn boots on, already?” Aasim finds his boots on the floor and kicks them towards him. “Why do you always have to be so damn difficult? Just once, can you do what I ask with no questions asked?”

Louis opens his mouth to speak, but then promptly shuts it.

Something’s weird.

Aasim’s being weird.

He never argues this much. Usually, by now he would’ve thrown his hands up, stomped out and left him behind, grumbling about what a pain in the ass he is.

But, there Aasim stood, moving about the room impatiently, still waiting for him.

Louis slips on his boots, keeping an eye on the other boy, and begins slowly lacing them up.

Aasim picks up the small venus fly trap on the desk and pokes it, causing it to steadily close its mouth. He’s so forcefully fixated on the plant that Louis is convinced something’s up.

Louis has known him for a long time, and he knows that Aasim avoids eye contact and becomes defensive due to three things: when someone brings up the delta, when he’s lying about something, or when someone confronts him about his crush on-

Louis’ mouth falls agape.

Oh.

“He makes you nervous, huh?” Louis asks, hopping to his feet.

Aasim almost drops the plant, but luckily, he catches it. “Yeah, so what?”

“Why?”

“Uh?”

“Why does he make you nervous?” Louis repeats, drawing out each word. “I mean, aside from the whole wearing another dude’s face and hanging out with his walker friends.”

Aasim’s lips part as though he’s ready to speak, but it seems he’s stuck. He moves his hands about as if somehow that’ll help him articulate the words he’s looking for. In the end, he gives an agitated sigh and heads towards the exit, saying, “Just drop it and let’s go.”

However, Louis is quick to stride ahead and shut the door, pressing his back against it and raising his brow suggestively at him.

“Not so fast!”

“Dude, really?”

Louis smirks.

“I see you, Aasim.”

“What?” Aasim scowls. “Get out of the way. Clem’s gonna be pissed we haven’t left yet.”

Louis grins brightly. He ignores Aasim’s protests, reaching out to grasp his shoulder, saying, “It’s finally happened. Our poor Aasim, the fool forever trapped within the realms of unrequited love-”

“Uh, what?”

“-has finally moved on from dear, sweet Ruby-”

“No-”

“-and onto the ever so mysterious-”

“No, no-”

“-handsome James!”

“Oh my god…” Aasim rubs his eyes, fingers curling over his face in irritation. “Oh my god, you’re so stupid.”

“Ah, James,” Louis disregards the insult, continuing, “Gotta say, I did not see that one coming. Never thought I’d see the day you give up on sweet Ruby. She’ll be devastated. Oh Ruby, don’t know what you got until it’s gone. ”

“I don’t have a crush on James, you idiot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I never had a crush on Ruby.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t-didn’t!”

“Uh-huh.”

Aasim inhales sharply through his nose. “I swear, it’s like you strive to piss me off!”

Louis holds his hands up defensively, saying, “No, I hear you, dude. I just don’t believe you. You can’t look me in the eye and say with a straight face that you never had a crush on Ruby.”

Aasim rubs his palms over his jacket before crossing his arms, not saying a word.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Louis continues, “Ruby’s a sweet girl- well, sweet until pushed otherwise. And James is really cool underneath that walker getup. In fact, I dare say you two would be pretty damn adorable--”

Aasim holds up his hand inches away from Louis’ face. “I’m gonna stop you right there before you say any more stupid shit,” he says sternly. “I don’t like James.”

“If that’s true, then why’re you being so weird?” asks Louis. “Hmmm?”

“Look,” Aasim sighs. “We could stand here all day arguing about this stupid shit, but the longer we do that, the farther that deer gets, and the longer James is stuck out there waiting for us by himself. Clementine is counting on both of us to go out there and track it, so can you please just take this seriously for once?”

“Who says I’m not being serious?”

Aasim shoots him a look.

“Okay, fine,” he sighs. He pushes away from the door. “You really believe he saw a deer out there?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And so does Clem?”

“Why else would she send me to wake your ass up?” Aasim asks, glancing back down at the floor.

Well, so much for morning plans. He’d have to shorten his list and make it quick.

“Just answer me this last question,” Louis says with a wide grin. “How long have you liked James?”

“I’m not playing this game with you.”

“What game? You wanted me to be serious, so here I am! Being serious! How long? Details, my friend!”

“I don’t-” Aasim groans, rubbing his hands harshly over his face and through his hair.

Alright, that’s enough teasing, he thinks. Louis would ask him about it again later when Aasim isn’t so flustered or preoccupied with thoughts of a prancing deer.

“Okay, okay, let’s go get Bambi. But before that, can I at least do my morning business first?” he asks. “Or am I gonna have to hold it the whole time?”

“Fine,” Aasim sighs, relieved, “just hurry up. Meet you at the gates.”

And with that, Aasim rushes out the door.

Louis shakes his head with a small smile. What an interesting development, he thinks. Aasim and James… Louis frowns. Now that he thinks about it, that might make things complicated if his theory about Mitch and James is-- … It’s probably nothing. He’s thinking about it too much.

With Chairles in his possession and a set determination, Louis leaves the bedroom, ready to complete his morning plans in the short amount of time given.

---

From down the hall, Louis can hear the sound of glass shards scraping against the wooden floors. His gut tightens.

Violet’s door is wide open.

Uneasy, apprehensive to continue, he comes to a stop.

Violet never leaves her door open, not even a crack. Whether she’s alone or not, she always makes sure her door is shut and locked. There’s been plenty of times where he’d gone to see her and after she let him in, she’d almost push him out of the way to slam the lock shut.

He’d asked her about it the first time it happened. She hadn’t answered him. She was too ashamed to, so she pretended not to hear the question.

He didn’t say any more about it. If it made her feel better- safer, more secure- then he wouldn’t argue. He’s gotten in the habit of locking it himself every time he comes to visit just so she doesn’t panic.

Eventually, he does peek into the room.

But, he doesn’t find Violet.

No, he’s alarmed to find Mitch bent down on the floor with a dustpan and a small, broken broom, cautiously sweeping up shattered glass bits. There’s a small bag next to him with a wooden frame protruding from it. Clear concentration knits his brows and his lips move as if silently mumbling to himself.

Louis’ eyes narrow. He tries to wrap his head around just what he’s seeing.

Think of the devil, and the devil will appear... Or something to that effect.

When he moves closer, right into the door frame, Mitch doesn’t seem to notice, even when he clears his throat.

So, he speaks.

“Hey, Mitch,” he says, loud and flat.

Mitch jerks back, losing his balance, hissing out, “Jesus motherfucking-!” He drops the dustpan to help steady himself, letting glass slip out onto the floor again. He scrambles to his feet, cheeks flushing a furious red, but his glare dies when he sees it’s Louis standing there. He grows tense, unmoving, with eyes wide like a small child just caught sneaking around where they weren’t supposed to.

The two stare at each other for many seconds before Mitch points at him.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Funny,” Louis scoffs, pushing his jacket back to place his hands on his hips firmly, “I was about to say the same thing.”

“I, uh-” Mitch straightens out, looking down at the broom in his hand and the glass on the floor before peering back up at him. “Shouldn’t you be out hunting?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Louis frowns. He approaches the other boy, asking, “What are you doing here? Where’s Vi?”

“She’s with Tenn,” Mitch says. “Spent the night in his room after she, uh,” he motions down to the broken glass, “flipped out.”

Concern tightens in his throat. The panic must be clear on his face, because Mitch shakes his head and explains, “She did it after their talk.” He kneels back down and starts sweeping again. “Clem told’ja about that, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “And, how do you know about it, exactly?”

“I was keeping watch. Made sure Violet didn’t do anything.” Mitch dumps the glass bits into the small bag before motioning towards the desk. “She didn’t, at least not while Clem was here. She smashed this after we were leaving. I left the picture over there.”

Louis hesitates, but steps around Mitch, wary of the remaining glass bits. As he approaches the desk, he notices that her water bottle is tipped over onto its side, empty. What’s worse, is he can see it’s completely dry, like it hasn’t been used in a long time. He stands it up, moving it right next to her journal.

He remembers when Aasim gave that to her. It wasn’t bound like a real book, but Aasim had gathered some thicker paper from the basement and had Ruby sew it together into a makeshift book. It even had a cover, drawn by Tenn.

Aasim gave it to her after the delta, said that writing was easier than talking. He gave her a bunch of pencils and pens, too, but he can’t spot any lying around. Louis doesn’t know if she really writes in it, though he hopes she does. Anything to help, anything to release a little bit of that pain.

Louis considered it once. But trying to write down his feelings only frustrated him. Instead, he turned to Clementine and music for solace.

He glances away from the journal and to the photo laying at the bottom corner of the desk.

Violet, Minerva, and Sophie, all together, all smiling.

He can’t help but grin, even if there’s no joy in it.

The photo’s covered in scratches, from the glass, no doubt. But, the faces are still clear.

Minerva.

The real Minnie.

Not the husk that pointed her crossbow at him, who tried to kill Clementine and take them all away to that sick hellhole.

As he stares at her face, her long hair and sincere eyes, he wishes that’s the only way he could remember her; happy, radiant, beautiful.

Fuck, he couldn’t even remember her laugh, or how charming her singing was.

She used to always laugh at his stupid jokes, at his silly voices and silly songs. Even when no one else would, she’d take pity on him and laugh.

They’d sing together in their downtime, too. They’d sing until Violet threw her head back, groaning out that he was ruining the song. So, he’d shut up and just play the piano, and Minerva would sing.

Louis thinks that’s when it happened.

When Violet first fell in love.

That’s why she always told him to shut up. Something in Minerva’s voice brought her comfort, gave her some sense of purpose.

He can remember Violet sitting there, watching both of them, and when Minerva sang to her, it was like he didn’t exist anymore. He was just there for background noise, a mere puppet to set the mood and a witness to what was blossoming.

It was beautiful.

Violet was beautiful.

He’d told her that shortly after she and Minerva became official, told her how happy he was for her. She punched him in the shoulder and called him stupid.

Minerva had agreed with him, though.

God, the way they looked at each other.

“I killed her.”

But, the memories of her glazed over expression, her washed out, gaunt face overshadow those fond times now.

Minerva...

“I killed her.”

Sophie.

“I killed her.”

Poor, poor Sophie.

He has to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip to stop his quivering chin. He’s not about to cry here, especially not in front of Mitch. He swallows the lump forming in his throat and breathes in, and out. He places the picture in the desk drawer.

“She wasn’t hurt, right?” Louis asks, attempting to hide the tremble in his voice. “By the glass?”

“Not that I could see. Didn’t see any blood anywhere.”

Well, at least she’s physically still intact. That doesn’t make him any less worried, though.

Mitch’s eyes dart all around the floor, looking for any shards he might’ve missed. He turns on his heels to grab his bag again.

“Clem told you?” Louis asks. “That she was gonna talk to her?”

“Yeah.”

Louis knows Clementine and Mitch had some sort of understanding with each other, but of all the people he thought she would’ve turned to when it came to talking to Violet, he didn’t put Mitch too high on the list.

“Why?”

“Uh,” Mitch stops sweeping. “Why what?”

“Why’d she tell you?” Louis asks. “She could’ve come to me.”

Mitch tenses. “I-I don’t fucking know, dude!” he exclaims far too loudly. As he continues, his speech becomes quicker, more defensive, “She just said it and I told her it was a shit idea but no, she just had to come and poke the bear right in the fucking eye and when you do that you get your hand bitten off and so I said I’d come with her and make sure her hand doesn’t get bitten off- shit I didn’t actually say it like that but I said, ‘don’t do it,’ and she was all, ‘I’m doing it,’ and-”

“Okay, okay,” Louis interrupts, overwhelmed by the outburst. “I get the idea. But why are you here now?”

Straightens himself out again, leaving the broom and dustpan on the floor to tie up the bag. “She wasn’t gonna clean it up,” he mumbles. “Hey, shouldn’t you be hunting? Aasim’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t get moving. We need that deer.”

Again, with the hunting thing.

“Yeah, yeah, the deer,” he sighs. “I’m going. I just wanted to check up on Vi first.”

“Doubt she wants to see anybody. Better off going straight to Aasim. Like right now.”

“I will,” Louis crosses his arms, “as soon as I see you out.”

Mitch eyes him questioningly before it dawns on him.

“Oh, right. Fair enough.”

He leaves the broken broom and dustpan in the corner of the room and scopes out the floor one last time. “Tell her not to break any glass shit next time. It’s a pain in the ass to clean up.”

Louis doesn’t bother responding. Mitch is already out the door anyway, leaving him alone in the emptiness of Violet’s room.

---

It’s chillier this morning. While the sun is still bright in the sky, there are more clouds floating about, all various shades of gray. Maybe not dark enough to worry about rain at the moment, but they still pass over the sun and bring a coolness over the school.

Louis tugs on the collar of his jacket, covering up a bit. Upon looking around, he’s a little surprised to only see Tenn sitting at his usual table, holding a board with a piece of paper taped on it in his lap, and Aasim pacing in front of the gates. He can faintly see Clementine and AJ up on watch.

No Ruby, no Willy, no Omar.

Even Rosie isn’t outside.

Odd.

But, he shrugs it off. He didn’t think he was late enough to miss breakfast, but that does bring up another concern.

Ignoring Aasim for a moment, figuring he can wait just a little bit longer, Louis makes his way towards Tenn.

There’s a line up of old bottles, some broken, some filled with a gross looking grey liquid. The board rests comfortably in Tenn’s lap. He’s focused on his drawing, his eyes constantly darting up to stare at the bottles before going back to copy it onto paper.

“Hey, Tenn,” Louis greets.

The boy looks back at him, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. “Oh, hi, Louis,” he says.

“What’cha drawing today?” Louis asks enthusiastically, peering over his shoulder.

Tenn sheepishly sets the board on the table, careful not to knock anything over. Several drawings of bottles fill up the page, all a little wobbly or disproportionate.

“James said I need practice drawing from life more, but,” Tenn sighs, “bottles are hard.”

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re getting the hang of it.” Louis points to a sketch in the right corner. “I like this one. It looks real enough to drink out of!”

A small, timid smile spreads across the young boy’s face. “Really?”

“Totally,” Louis gives an encouraging grin. “Wait until James sees these. He’s gonna be floored at how good you’re getting. Oh!” Louis pats his shoulder. “By the way, that one you did of me looks amazing on our wall.”

“You-you hung it up?”

“Of course I did!”

Tenn looks away to hide his diffident smile. “Thanks, Louis…”

“Of course,” Louis grins. He moves around and takes a seat next to him with a sigh, his usual grin replaced with a more serious look. “Hey,” he lowers his voice, “how’s Vi doing?”

Tenn sets his pencil down, keeping his eyes locked on his hands. “She’s okay. She slept in my room last night.”

“I heard,” Louis scratches at his chin thoughtfully, “but, she’s okay? Well, as okay as she can be?”

“I think so,” Tenn says. “She-...she cried a lot, but she’s stopped, so...”

Shit.

“Did she get any sleep?”

“A little. She’s still in bed. She told me I didn’t have to wait for her.”

“Did she eat anything?”

“I brought her some breakfast,” he nods, “and she ate a little.”

Relief washes over him.

“Good,” he says. “That’s good. Keep an eye on her, okay? I would go check on her myself but it seems I’m needed elsewhere.”

Tenn goes back to his drawing, pulling the board back into his lap, saying, “Uhm, aren’t you and Aasim-”

“Going hunting, yes, to capture that magical deer prancing in the woods.” Louis stands up again, giving Tenn one last pat on the back. “Her water bottle’s in her room. When you take a break, would you fill it up and bring it to her?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Louis smiles warmly. “Keep up the good work.”

He waves good-bye to the young boy, but still strays away from the gates. He knows Aasim can see him, and it’s only a matter of time before he stomps over and drags him out by his ear.

There’s just one more thing he has to do.

Approaching the post where they take turns on watch, Louis calls up, “Clementine?”

At first, he doesn’t get a response. Then, AJ leans over and smiles down at him, excitedly waving. “Hi, Louis!”

“Hey, little man!” he laughs. “Clem up there?”

“Yeah!”

Clementine appears beside him, giving AJ a set of binoculars. Louis steps back, watching her climb down.

He’s pleased to see her smiling.

In fact, he dare say she’s glowing this morning.

She hurries over to him and slips into his open arms. Her cold nose brushes his skin when she leans up and pecks him on the lips.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he grins. He opens his jacket up more, pulling her close and wrapping it around her as much as possible. “You’re freezing.”

“Been out here a few hours,” she sighs, melting into his touch, soaking up his warmth. “I expected to see you a lot sooner. Aasim’s been waiting.”

“Ah, yes, so we can hunt this famous deer everyone’s so obsessed with,” he says, “He was ready to drag me out of bed by my feet this morning. I think I can actually feel him glaring at us right now.” He peeks over Clementine’s head nonchalantly, and sure enough, Aasim is staring at the couple, exasperated.

“Believe me, I heard all about it,” Clementine pulls back with a stern look. “You shouldn’t give him such a hard time.”

“Yeah, I know. He just makes it too easy sometimes. Anyway,” Louis leans forward to kiss her cheek. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay before I took off.”

She hums against his chest, mumbling, “I’m a lot better, actually. All things considered. It’s… a good day.”

“It’s a cold day.”

“It’s not that cold.”

“Your nose is about to fall off.”

“So dramatic.”

Louis chuckles, pulling back to rub warmth into her arms before stopping to hold her hands.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Later,” she says. “You have a deer to hunt.”

“I’d happily cancel to make time for you.”

“Nice try, but no.”

“Ugh.”

He’s getting pretty tired of hearing about this deer.

“Don’t pout. Think about how much a whole deer could feed us.”

“Not much, because I’m, like, eighty percent sure Bambi doesn’t really exist.”

“Louis.”

“Okay, ninety percent.”

She shakes her head, trying to hide her smile. She playfully smacks his chest. “Just go. You two have kept James waiting long enough. We’ll talk later, okay? I promise.”

Louis doesn’t let her hands go.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He studies her face for any sign of unease but finds that she’s still smiling up at him.

When she notices his hesitation, she tugs on his hand.

“Are you okay?”

He’s quiet as he says, “I went to check on her. She wasn’t in her room.”

Clementine doesn’t say anything, but her grip on his hands tightens.

“I did find Mitch cleaning up glass. That was pretty weird.”

Her eyes flutter shut as she lowers her head. “The picture…”

“Yeah,” he nods, “Tenn promised to keep an eye on her today. Try not to think about it too much. And if she does come out, well... ”

“I know.”

He doesn’t say any more about it. Her promise to talk about it when he gets back is enough assurance for him.

“Louis!” Aasim calls from the gates. “Let’s go!”

Louis shakes his head and forces a cheerful smile. “Best not keep poor Aasim waiting. He’s gonna need a shoulder to cry on when we don’t find that deer.”

Clementine rolls his eyes. “And here I thought you were the optimist.”

“Optimist, sure. Delusional? Not as much as you’d think.”

“Just don’t give Aasim such a hard time,” she says, quirking a knowing brow. “I hear he’s had a rough morning already.”

“I won’t,” he promises. “I have a feeling that he won’t hesitate to shoot at me today if I push the wrong button.”

Clementine’s fingers brush against his cheek before she pulls him down. Their lips press comfortably together as a pleased sigh escapes her. They savor the moment, reluctant to pull away. It takes him a second to recover, a second before he can open his eyes again.

God, she is glowing today.

And he’s just standing there, smiling and chuckling like a fool.

She turns away to hide the pretty blush blossoming on her cheeks, hitting his chest again.

“Go.”

“Fine.”

Louis goes to the gates, turning to wave good-bye to her. He’s still grinning when he meets Aasim, who shakes his head and gives an exaggerated eye roll before pushing through the gates.

Louis isn’t too far behind.

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dindooku · 4 years ago

Text

Ao3 - loulou1810

what you think might be your blessing may well be your curse... you hope it isn’t the latter

follow the story as you (reader) embark on a new life with the mandalorian.

will you find peace with yourself or will this be the spark to ignite your downfall?

tw - violence, suggestive themes

word count: 3,057

———

The overzealous grin dropped from your face as soon as the cell door slid shut, the air-tight lock hissing; twisting the dagger into your hopes of escape. Normally you were confident in situations like this, too confident. But now you knew, there was no way out from this.

The cold metal pinched at the skin on your wrist as you writhed and contorted in an effort to gain some leverage, some space, some hope. It was no good. You were stuck, indefinitely. They knew that if you had your hands you’d make an easy case of escaping, but to your dismay, they’d clocked this, and so you were the only prisoner on the correctional transport vessel with stun cuffs. Great. Slowly you pulled yourself from the ground to right yourself from where you were laying after being thrown in, doing as best you could with the cuffs binding your wrist’s behind your back. Now slumped, knees bent and in a kneeling position facing away from the door, you began to take in your surroundings.

The cell which you were housed in was cold and dark, despite the bright white light that illuminated the small box, mirroring your feelings to a T, ‘ironic’. Four pristine white walls boxed you in, almost making you feel claustrophobic despite the room. To the left of you, there was a small ledge built into the wall, you assumed this was to be your bed. It was plain and flat, no markings, no sharp edges as to minimise the risk of injury. ‘ Who needs a back anyway?’ You mentally chuckle to yourself, trying to make light of an already bleak situation.

What you think to be hours pass meticulously slowly, but you’ve worked yourself into a state of false meditation, daydreaming almost. It was your minds automatic repose to trauma, taking you away from the present your body found itself in and disconnecting, taking you somewhere else, anywhere else. Somewhere where you didn’t have to run and hide because of who you were.

Trying to calm your racking nerves, you took a deep sigh, ’might as well get used to it, you’re here for the lo-‘.

Footsteps. But not droid… human? Turning your head slightly, still kneeling and eyes still closed you honed in on the noise signature, trying to make out the conversation.

“…Gotta choose soon Twi, that destroyer’s gonna be here in 15…”. ‘ Destroyer?’ You thought to yourself, what use is a destroyer out here? This correctional transporter did carry high threat individuals, but this was a max security metal box, no one could get in or out… so you thought.

“Patience... Lady knows best”. You could feel the blatant seduction in their voice, obviously using their words to gain an advantage over who they were talking to. If it weren’t for the destroyer comment you’d have thought they were just two workers looking for a quick fix someplace private. But the destroyer? ‘ What did they mea-‘

A heavy voice interrupts your monologue. “Just hurry up and cage him, or I'm gonna break tiny”. Focusing your mind more, you listened deeper, soon realising that two sets of footsteps were looming, louder and louder. Shit, they’re in the corridor..what in the maker is going on? Now only mere feet from you, the second voice speaks again. “Perfect…”. The T was exaggerated, almost with a hiss as it sounded like they were cut off from their monologue. Lighter, more agile footsteps made their way into the scene you’d pictured in your head. You imagined what sounded like two males and a female stood together on the other side of your cell. The quieter footsteps louder now, a modulated voice broke the whispering tension. “What's here, we’ve already got Qin, I thought it was only one?”. You found it hard to make out any emotion from this voice, in part the modulator but also, weirdly, the aura that was being given off also barred your mental vision.

“An eye for an eye, Mando” came from a new, vindictive voice, and before you could react, your cell door opened, the clattering of metal of what you assumed was a body chucked in. This caught you off guard, but you quickly opened your eyes and pushed from your knees, rolling on your side to right yourself into a crouching, defensive pose just in from the back wall of your cell, now facing forwards towards the commotion. Almost as soon as it had opened, the cell door shut, cutting your chances of escape. ' Damn it’

“You deserve this!” Echoed from the corridor as the four bodies made haste.

Quickly you darted your eyes to the new presence in your cell. The room now soaked red. Your interrogation was met with a harsh, brutal T visor. You were offset by the blank tint that blatantly stared back at you. You felt judged despite not being able to see their eyes, their gaze almost reading your mind and soul. Did they have eyes, were they human? What would they do to you, were they friend or foe… You quickly chased that thought away, not wanting to start a fight that didn’t need to happen, but you couldn’t help the defensive feeling that had made your hairs stand on end. You loved a bit of drama, but this was all too real, being stuck on a max security ship for something you couldn’t help, now with someone, something, you didn’t know was going to eat or kill you. This had all got a bit too out of hand; either way, you weren’t going to drop your guard now, no more stupid mistakes.

Both of you stared for a second too long, waiting for fo the other to make the first move.

“I need to get out of this cell” came the modulated voice as they slowly pushed themselves off their front, now revealing the heavy, Beskar chest plate. Wow this guy must really be pulling the big numbers to afford Beskar… makes sense for them to be jumping a max security prison, or was jumping at least until they landed indignantly in your cell.

“No shit.” You chime back, almost laughing at the plainly obvious remark that they’d made. Duh. They centred himself, now standing a few feet from you; still not cutting the weighted gaze between you two.

“Give me a hand getting out and I’ll help you get off this ship”. Now that was tempting, but if they hadn’t already noticed your wrists were bound so the gesture fell short.

“If you hadn’t noticed my hands are already tied, would if I could.” You chide, your day couldn’t get any worse. Being offered a way out by this mysterious armoured being, almost given it on a silver spoon and plate, only for it to be out of arms reach, literally. Slowly lifting yourself up, you turned to go and sit on the bed sticking out from the wall. Before you could sit, the walking shield had walked up over to you, haste in his movements. He went to grab your wrist’s from the side. Alarm bells ringing, you quickly ducked and rolled to the cell door at the front, just avoiding his grasp. No way they were going to take your denied offer out on you. You were smaller than them, yes, but also ( you didn’t like to admit) highly trained. You stood at a 45 to them, knees bent and ready to defend yourself the best you could despite your restrictions.

They turned harshly, squaring up to you. “Let me remove the cuffs”. This stopped you dead in your tracks. They were gonna help you? Why? What use could you be to them? You slowly stood up, turning towards the door now, exposing your back. This went against everything you’d ever learnt, Lori would murder you if they knew you were doing this, but something in the other’s demeanour made you trust them like you were in a trance, something you didn’t know as to why, but your gut was usually correct. And it was. The sound of cuffs hitting the floor made you flinch. You weren’t dead, phew . Turning around hastily, you met the gaze again, but this time it was less threatening, still scary, yes, but trustworthy.

They walked up next to you, peering out of the cell into the corridor, You notice your morphed reflection in the shiny Beskar pauldron. Breaking you from your gaze, they pushed you back, urging you to get down to the side of the door, head-turning and placing an upright finger in front of the visor, mimicking a ‘shh’. You got the hint.

Body tense you crouched, back against the wall. Gazing down at your wrists you clocked the dried crimson lines etched into your skin. You must’ve really been pulling on those cuffs, enough to draw blood.

Quietly they lifted their left hand in between the bars of the door, their helmet just off the side, tracking something. The menacing glare was evident even from behind the mask, you could feel the urgency prickling off of them. You stiffened, remaining quiet, you could sense that this person knew what they were doing.

Suddenly they were struggling against the door, turning their back then yanking their arm down only to them grab a security void with their other hand from behind the door. The droid let off a blaster shot, the projectile pinging off the inside of the room, eventually discharging when it hit the armour of the masked assailant next to you. Unfazed, undamaged. damn, that stuff’s hard .

The arm comes unhinged and the wine of the droid almost pulls a heartstring, until you remember that's the whole reason as to why you're here... droids. The masked accomplice lifts the blaster, making quick work of the droid.

They drop the blaster, taking the arm they just pillaged and placing it vertically to the locking key of the door. With a subtle twist, the unlocking key slides out from the droid's arm, to then be placed into the key and used to unlock the door.

The door slides open. You can’t believe it, everything that's happened in the last 24 hours has been a blur, but this, you couldn’t have pictured it even if you tried.

You look up again into the steely gaze. “Follow me, behind me” came the voice. Damn, they weren’t one with words, either that or this was just routine to them. Standing back up, you nod slightly at them. You guess you aren’t one for words either, especially now. You’d always figured it’s best to keep your mouth shut unless you have to talk, and even then, in- tense situations like this, you had to be sure that what you were saying was thought out and logical; you had no time for mistakes. Plus, you weren’t going to give yourself away straight away, you didn’t even know who you were escaping with, they could be more trouble than you could handle. Hushing that thought away you reasoned, it can’t get much worse than this, trust yourself to make it out alive .

Following behind them, jogging with light footsteps through the hallway, silent, red lights flashing, the place plunged in an atmospheric, dangerous glow.

You gazed upon the controls, wondering why they’d brought you to the control room. There are no escape pods here, surely just getting back to however they got on this ship would be the smartest idea? Breaking your line of thought, they point to the security screens, showing four bodies running down a hallway. Two Twi’leks, a Devaronian and a Human. The conversation from earlier now started to make sense.

“I'll take the Devaronian and the human, you take the Twi’lek. The female has knives.” The voice sounding stern and logical, you trusted this voice, even through the vocoder. They knew what they were doing, at least it looked that way. “We have 13 minutes to leave. Make it quick.” Jeez ok, I’ll do my best, how do they even know I know how to fight? Before you could ask anymore internal questions, they were out the door, pacing down the hallway to the left. Taking this as your cue, you followed, branching in the other direction. She has knives, right, close combat, you’ve done this before, you can do - you will do it again. Focus. After a quick few turns here and there you hear the closing of a door just around the corner from you, up the hallway to your left, accompanied by the grumble and hiss of a female voice. You lean back against the wall, closing your eyes you chant to yourself, That must be her. Now, breathe… Easy pickings. Striding from the corner you were leaning against, mind focused, you face the Twi’.

“Spose' you could call it bad luck, others fortune.” You say smoothly, calmly. The Twi shifts, pivoting to face you from the other end of the hallway.

“I guess you two are working together now? Hmm? Yes,… did he charm you? Don’t take it personally honey but he’s not your type, his tastes aren’t in the defenceless.” She remarks, the S rolling off of her tongue in a hiss; her eyes glaring daggers into yours, trying to force the focus out of you. Seen it, done that , you thought to yourself.

“And you’d know?” You retort back, still holding the battle-trained composure in your voice.

“Oh honey you really have a lot to learn…” she strides slowly like she’s hunting her prey. Yeah, ‘cause I’m the prey in this situation. You internally smirked, you almost felt bad for the pain you know you could cause, but shouldn’t. That’s not the Way. “I know exactly what makes him tick, done it myself. You’ll get bored, he never removes it . Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not any different.” Who even said I had an interest, didn’t even know they were a He. Guess this one wasn’t a clean breakup. You chimed to yourself, her position now about 4 metres away. You could sense it, she thought this was easy, that she had this. Sure she does.

Then, you feel it. Tensing you duck to the right, balancing on all fours as a dagger shoots past your left shoulder, your eyes still pinned to hers, a small smirk gracing your lips. You’d missed this, the adrenaline, the game of prediction, feeling . This was where you felt most alive, doing what you were made to do. The gift you had was a double-edged knife. Yes, it got you in this situation, but without it, you’d have been dead long before your years.

She strode forwards, you lunging low to the ground, effortlessly covering ground. You were now only a couple feet from each other. She crouched, attempting to mirror your battle style. The Twi’ goes to throw another dagger as you rolled to her left side. You’d sensed it before her hand even left the blade. Quickly standing to her side, you turned your head and looked into her eyes; they’re now wide, the confidence stripped bare, beneath the realisation that she’d maybe have bit off more than she could chew.

With this you dropped, kicking a leg to trip her from behind. Falling, she grabbed your collar, pulling you with her. Now falling atop, you righted yourself by bracing to the side, scrambling up into your stance. She went to lunge but paused. Glancing down she saw her belt was gone, confusion, then realisation swept her face to meet you gripping it, your right hand through a tightened loop and the other pulling it taunt.

I love that trick .

Grabbing another dagger she bound towards you, holding it outright in her right hand. You twisted to the side, wrapping her wrist in her own belt. She shifted, throwing a punch to your right cheek. No stupid mistakes. The anger at your mistake now bubbling you wrap her other hand in the belt as its retreating, her wrists now bound with yours. She hisses a snarl at you, “Bitch.” The smirk on your face grows a little wider now, the true fun only just beginning.

You shifted your weight harshly to the left, throwing her in a 180 to disorient and gain momentum. Dropping to your knees and twisting you bring your entwined wrists above your head and then yank over your right shoulder, bringing her down onto her back, head now facing you and her body strewn away from your core. You quickly unwind her wrists, forcing the belt down over her neck to strangle. You stretched out your left leg reaching for the knife that had dropped from her pouch with your toes, sliding it back to you with a kick. The knife now secured in your left hand, you edge it to her neck, only now looking back into her eyes. “A-lot to learn huh? Ironic.” The satisfaction in your voice over the play on words was clear, and so was the fear in her eyes. Oh, you loved proving people wrong, especially when they pretty much do it for you.

That's when you felt it, the temptation, the greed to end her now. Do it. You’ve done it before, yes, you can do it again, do it.

No. You’re not giving yourself up like that again. You barely made it back to yourself last time, don’t push your luck now, you’ve learnt since then. You’re a better person now, you think… killing like this. This is not the Way.

The smirk now leaving your face, you twist her round, knife now held to the back of her neck. Using the belt to secure her wrists you pull her up. Eyeing the empty cell on the other side of the hallway you walk her over. She’s protesting but stops as soon as you edge the tip of her own blade into the skin on the back of her neck. She tenses, but follows your directions to the cell, stepping in and turning to face you from within the room.

“Coward” She whispered, eyes attached to yours through the fury of defeat, her fake smile taunting you.

Oh, the temptation.

“Don't flatter yourself, Honey”.

Her smile drops along with the security door

———

Ok, so I just finished editing this chapter. It’s my first fic and i’m just writing for enjoyment. I’ve finished chapter 4 and will obvs post more if ppl like this! Its tame rn but will get more spicy as time goes on ;) hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. best wishes, dindooku xx

i just read this back after 3 months and realised how bad my writing is lmao -> this was my first ever fic/writing and it tells lol, pls forgive me.

43 notes · View notes

iamtaekooked · 5 years ago

Text

↳PART 2 | PART 1

➾ AU: Enemies to Lovers! + football player!Jeongguk and Journalist!Reader

➾Pairing: Jeongguk x female reader

➾Genre: Fluff, some angst, some soft smut

➾Rating: 18+

➾Word count Part 2: 17.0k (bringing out combined total to a whopping 34.3k)

➾Warnings {part 2}: drinking, soft smut (making out, nothing detailed or explicit), swearing.

↳Summary:

Jeon Jeongguk is your nemesis whom you carry a strong dislike for. A dislike that borders on hate. He’s cocky, arrogant, narcissistic and loves to think everything revolves around him. When he gets elected as the captain of the football team, you are forced to write a profile on him for the college magazine as is the tradition every time a new captain is selected. But as you follow him around, you come to realize he might not be as bad as you think. Maybe he’s even a little tolerable– and cute. How will you deal with several realizations that dawn on you during the course of your interviews?

A special thank you to @kuzimuzibts @meandyou0901 @ughkive for supporting me through this fic. Without your support and words of encouragement, I couldn’t have done this ❤️ So thank you from the bottom of my heart and I love you guys!

M.List

Jimin being the good friend he is, decided to host a small get together at his house. Of course, you are invited and so are 15 other people. Jimin has always been a caring soul, someone who can’t see the people he loves in distress. So when he gets wind that Jeongguk is stressed out he decides to invite everyone Jeongguk is friends with to throw a surprise “party”.

The responsibility of bringing Jeongguk over to his house falls to you because you are apparently his “girlfriend”. Or at least that is how everyone starts referring to you once the picture of you and Jeongguk outside the bus stop with his arms wrapped around your waist circulates on social media. You are sure it was one of the girls who squealed when they saw him walking by.

At first you try your hardest to diffuse the rumors because you are not his girlfriend, but when the whole world around you seems to be pressing it on you, insisting that you are-- you give up and let them have it. It’s not hurting you in any way so who cares?

But Jeongguk on the other hand loves it. He loves it more than football itself, which is a miracle. Everytime someone calls you his girlfriend in front of him, a wide grin appears on his face— the one where his eyes disappear into moon shaped crescents and his pearly whites are on full display— it also happens to be the one that always brings a smile to your face too. If it were up to him he would change your name to ‘girlfriend’, that way he would get to call you that all the time.

So naturally when you go to find him in the gym, all his teammates offer you polite smiles, and nods. Even Jaehyun offers a soft ‘hi’ in greeting.

“Captain!” one of them yells. “Your girlfriend is here” his voice echoes through the almost empty place.

You open your mouth to tell him to stop calling you that but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. They won’t stop.Up until now, no matter how many times you have corrected people, they have just ignored you and continued to refer to you as “Jeongguk’s girlfriend”.

“Cap!” Jaehyun yells this time craning his neck to where Jeongguk is in a corner of the gym lifting weights. “Your girl is here!”

Jeongguk upon hearing that stops bench pressing and jogs over to you with a sweaty figure and heavy breaths.As soon as his eyes find you his lips curve into a smile. “Hey girlfriend” he greets you and lays a soft kiss on your cheeks before wrapping his arms around you.

“I told you not to call me that” you mumble against his shoulder softly— very gently pulling yourself away from his embrace. Somehow you’ve gotten close enough to allow him to hug you and to allow yourself to not go into a state of utter panic. Ever since he told you he likes you there has been a slight shift in your dynamic-- he’s more touchy and you don’t mind it. Sometimes you even let yourself enjoy it because the feeling of his arms around you makes you feel secure-- like there is nothing in the world that could touch you when he’s with you.

Jeon Jeongguk is the kind of man who just by his mere presence has the ability to make someone next to him look-- but most importantly feel like a billion bucks. That is exactly how you feel when he’s with you because like a magnet he ends up drawing all attention on himself and by default on you.

Sometimes you catch yourself smiling when you’re with him and people are pointing at you both and whispering their envy to each other. It makes you feel a surge of emotions which you can’t define but at the bottom of it all it just feels good.

“What else would I call you?” he pouts.

“Oh, I don’t know? My name maybe? The one I’ve had since birth?” you shake your head. “Anyway, I just came because we need some stuff for the interview. I have a few questions”

He quirks an eyebrow and rubs his hands together. “Oooh. But ‘girlfriend’ sounds a million times better. I am just going to call you that”

You rub your forehead in exasperation. “Should we go somewhere more… suitable. I need to ask you a few questions” you ask straight-faced.

He nods. You notice all his teammates sharing a look and roll your eyes because you know what they are thinking-- sex. That’s all they can ever think of. You ignore them as they pat Jeongguk on the shoulder, or give him words of encouragement like “get it” or high five him. You exit the gym first, not in the mood for their stupidity.

Jeongguk catches up to you and falls into step next to you. “Why do you always leave me behind?”

“Because I don’t like your teammates” you deadpan.

“But you like me?” he asks with a hopeful tone before busting out that stupid smile of his.

“Jeongguk” you say warningly.

“Ok sorry. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me how much you love me” he winks with a cheeky grin.

“Oh my god” you facepalm.

You hear him snicker and shoot him a dirty look. “Anyway” you try to direct the conversation to serious matters as you take out your recorder one more time as per usual.

“So, you’re back to working on my profile?”

“Unfortunately for me, yes” you say with a small chuckle. “I am not going to let my best friend get dragged into shit by the sports department because of you Jeon”

“Ouch!” he feigns hurt by placing a hand on his chest. “I thought you cared for me” he matches your pace despite being several inches taller than you— which is kind of sweet. But that’s not the point.

“Oh I am sorry” you draw out each word to make sure he didn’t miss the sarcasm in your voice. “Did I make it seem like I did?”

“You’re definitely going to die sad and alone” he muses with a teasing smile.

“I don’t mind that. Now if you’re done, can I continue?”

Go ahead” he offers a soft, gentle smile which makes a pang nervousness rise in your chest.

“So, what does football mean to you?”

“Everything” he doesn’t even hesitate for a single second before answering.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I told you how football is literally the only thing that provides my life with meaning-- exception being you” he glances at you with a small teasing smirk before throwing his hands in the air when he notices you opening your mouth. “I digress. But yes. Playing football is the one thing that gives direction and focus to my life. Without it I would be lost”

You nod deep in thought. “So then, what would you do if you didn’t make it into the football team?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I’d probably still be in the Eastside struggling with trying to find something that allowed me to focus my energy in productive ways”

“So would you say that football is the reason you wake up every morning?” you look up at him, noticing the glint in his eye and the tiny smile spread across his lips.

He nods. “And you” he adds quickly before looking away with a playful grin he thinks you can’t see.

You slap him gently on the arm. “Jeongguk!”

“I’ll stop” he holds hands up in surrender as he turns to look at you.

You both continue walking, turning left here, turning right there.

“Describe in word one word then how you feel when you play football”

“Euphoria” again it doesn’t take him even a second to answer. It’s like he’s been waiting for someone to ask him-- that’s how quickly he answered.

You look at him in question at which point he begins to elaborate without you having to prompt him.

“It’s like a rush. Whenever I am out in the field I am zoomed in, super focused. It’s like tunnel vision. All I see is the ball, and that touchdown line at the end of the field. That’s all I think about when I play. All the hits, all the pushing and shoving kind of pumps me up because it feels like these are the obstacles I have to overcome to get that ball to the endline and score the point. It’s like a metaphor for life, if you know what I mean”

You nod slowly as you comprehend his words. “Wow”

He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “Always with the look of surprise”

“I am trying to adjust” you snap.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“I think this is good for now” you stop the recording and pocket the tiny thing. “Also, be ready by 5 tonight. We’re going somewhere”

“Wow, so specific” the sarcasm in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

“Yeah Yeah” you wave him off. “Just be ready by 5pm” you turn but he clasps a hand around your wrist and spins you around to make you face him.

“No. You be ready by 5. You’re crazy if you think I won’t come to pick you up”

“You don’t have to” you feel slightly guilty because one you know he has to drive a long way out to come to your place and second it’s a surprise for him so you should be the one picking him up.

“I want to” he slightly squeezes your wrist.

You regard him noticing how he looks so determined. “Fine”

“Where are we going? Is it a date?!” his eyes widen with a grin.

“No!” your nose scrunches. “It’s not a date Jeon”

“Oh” his lower lip juts out slightly, voice completely deflated.

You are so not whipped for him— that you can’t even see him pouting without feeling bad for him. For a moment you can’t react because his face loses its brightness. But then a sense of urgency builds. You bite your lip in an effort to stop yourself from speaking. But then the more he sulks, the worse it gets.

“Fine! It’s a date” you sigh and lower your gaze to avoid looking at him. But you are sure he’s beaming.

“Yes!” you hear him.

Then you turn around and run from there because you aren’t sure your heart can take it.

> > > > > >

The evening arrives with a flurry of text messages from Jeongguk.

Jeon Jerkguk- I just left the house. I’ll be there in 40-ish minutes depending on traffic. - 4:30 pm Jeon Jerkguk- You know how to get there right? - 4:31 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Of course you do. You’re the smartest person I know 😊- 4:32 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Dress warmly, it's kind of cold out- 4:34 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Don't forget your jacket please Jeon Jerkguk- See you soon girlfriend 😍

You bang your head against the vanity. “No” you groan.

When he acts like this, it makes you speechless. Your chest feels fluttery, waves of chills pass through your skin, your stomach twists in knots, your breath hitches in your throat and warmth envelopes you. Like a normal person, instead of feeling happy you end up feeling stressed because you don’t know how to deal with it. He makes you nervous in a way no one does. There are times when you can’t even look at him because your nerves get the best of you.

It’s mostly because of the way he looks at you with a soft, loving look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that, but when he’s with you-- when he thinks you’re not looking-- you see it in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle very subtly as his lips curve up into a tiny little smile that vanishes when you do look at him. You’ve never seen him act like that before and the fact that it’s because of you makes it hard to deal with.

It’s because he does things for you that he doesn’t do for anyone else--

Like the one time he saw you sitting with a frown on your face in the middle of the lecture and he leaned in towards you.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked

“Nothing” you shook your head at him

“Liar” he whispered as he reached across and placed an index finger on the middle of your forehead. “Then what’s this?” he referred to the frown you were wearing.

You sighed and he pulled his hand away.. “Hoseok has been pestering me to give him the first draft for the profile but I haven’t written anything yet” you mumbled dropping your head between your arms on the table.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he had whispered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” your head shot up as you looked at him. “No”

“Fine. But you’ll tell me if someone really bothers you?” sincerity reflected in his eyes.

“Jeon. Shut up” you had shaken your head at him and he had snickered in response.

Or when he had saved you from getting hurt

You had been so immersed in giving him a mini lecture about what normal people do when they bump into someone when a cart full of boxes had rolled into your path.

“Y/n!” he yelled and pulled you to the side towards him. “Are you okay?” he had asked in a soft voice which made you lose your train of thoughts.

You simply nodded at him and continued walking.

Or the one time he lent you his umbrella

You were leaving the campus because your classes were over for the day. You cut through the football field because it was the shortest way. But what you didn’t know was that the football team was practicing at the time.

Your mind was so preoccupied with the stress of all the assignments that you didn’t realize Jeongguk was calling out your name. So you continued walking. When you were almost out of the bounds of college, rain started to fall. It pulled you out of your trance and you groaned upon realizing you did not have your umbrella.

You pulled up the hoodie over your head which was starting to get soaked as you felt rain droplets falling on your head. Then suddenly you felt a shadow loom over you and looking back you had found Jeongguk was holding an umbrella over your head.

“You’ll get sick” he said.

“Where did you come from?” you gaped at him.

“Practice” he motioned towards the field and then you saw all the players you had previously missed.

“Why are you here? Go practice. You’ll get in shit” you started walking again when he tugged your wrist to make you stop.

“One, I am the captain so I won’t get in shit. Two, take this or you’ll get wet and then you’ll get sick”

“You care why?” you narrowed your eyes in question.

“Because I just do. Now stop being a stubborn little idiot and take it” he thrusted the umbrella into your hand and jogged away towards the field covering his head with his hands.

A knock sounds on your bedroom door which goes by unnoticed because you are still thinking about Jeongguk.

“Thinking about me?”

Your heart leaps, as you hear a voice behind you but upon turning back you are met with Jeongguk who is offering you his usual grin.

“Holy shit Jeon, you scared me” you exhale loudly as finally the breath that had gotten stuck in your throat passes through.

“I see you’re not ready” he’s leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black denim jacket, his timberlands and a white shirt with black jeans with his hair— that damn long hair or his tied back in a bun at the top of his head. He looks—- nope. You shake your head and turn towards the vanity. He looks whatever— not even a little bit good.

“Wait” your brows furrow in realization as you turn to face him. “How did you get in?”

“Next time don’t leave the front door open” he steps inside the room and flops onto your bed. He lies on his side, propping an elbow up and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “It could have been a thief, or a serial killer in my stead”

You roll your eyes. “Somehow you’re worse than both of those”

You hear him chuckle and shoot him an unimpressed look. “Why are you in my room?”

“Geez, way to thank me”

“Thank you for what?”

“You know that one time I saved you from that drunk asshole at the restaurant, and now for picking you up” his lips purse into a thin line.

Oh yes. You still haven’t thanked him for it.

“Thanks” you mumble.

“Not good enough” he shakes his head as he straightens up.

“What do you want?” you sigh.

“I want to make up for that one time when you kissed me and I ran out like an asshole” he scoots to the edge of the bed and pulls the chair you are sitting on closer to himself.

“What?” you gawk as you are being dragged towards him.

“Well, you see, I got scared. I didn’t know how to react so I ran off. Not my best moment, but can you blame me?” he leans towards you as he places his hands on the armrests of the chair on either side of you.

You cannot believe he’s bringing it up. That moment is easily one of the worst moments of your life. Maybe it’s even at the top of your list because of how embarrassing it was. Before that moment, you cannot recall another one as mortifying. It’s a memory you want to forget because it still brings about deep feelings of humiliation.

You gulp and look away as your eyes dart across the floor, matching the state of your mind which runs rampant with hundreds of thoughts. You play with your fingers, avoiding his gaze as it rests on you.

Then he leans in, until his lips are close to yours. Your eyes flutter close of their own accord and your breathing picks up pace. “Jeon-”

“Shh” he says, placing a finger on your lips.

You wait for it-- that familiar feeling of euphoria which results from his lips pressing onto yours. You wait for your heartbeat to quicken more than it already is because of his touch. You wait for your skin to feel like it’s on fire and for your cheeks to feel like they’ll melt from the heat.

But it doesn’t come. Instead what you do feel is his lips pressing softly against your nose. “I won’t kiss you without your permission. Ever”

Your eyes open and you see Jeongguk has resumed his relaxed position as he’s leaning on his elbows once again and offering you a gentle smile. You blink profusely trying to comprehend what happened because this is highly uncharacteristic of Jeongguk. You dwell on it for a few seconds as you keep your focus on him.

On second thought, it’s not uncharacteristic of him. It’s just that you always assumed he wouldn’t ever say something like that.

Maybe you don’t need to teach him how to love you, maybe you need to teach yourself how to love him.

>>>>>>>>

Arriving at Jimin’s house, you find yourself on the receiving end of a puzzled look from Jeongguk. “Isn’t this Jimin’s house?”

You nod. “Put this on” you hand him a blindfold.

“I didn’t know you were kinky like that” he takes the black silk cloth from your hand.

“Remember how I told you, you only have one redeeming quality? You’re losing points here buddy” you remind him.

“Never thought I was gaining any in the first place” he shrugs.

“That’s what you think” you say his own line to him which makes him chuckle.

“So, I did gain points? When? For what?” he eyes you with anticipation.

“You think I’ll tell you? I don’t want to make things worse for myself” you offer a small smile, which you try to suppress.

“Oh come on!” he pouts.

“Again with the pouting” you shake your head at him, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling too much.

“Because I know it works on you” he sticks his tongue out cheekily with a grin.

“What!?”

“I’ve seen it in your eyes. Everytime I pout. You always give in”

“You suck” your lower lip juts out in a pout this time.

“That’s why you like me don’t you?” the already present grin on his face spreads even wider.

You quirk your head to the side to look out of the window. “I don’t like you”

“Then why can't you look at me and say it?” his voice drops a touch, making your cheeks warm up.

“Shut up” you bite back as you glare at him-- although not with the usual contempt.

He starts chuckling and shaking his head. “Oh y/n” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re cute” he turns to you with a smile.

“You’re crazy” you open the door from your side and get out of the car.

> > > > > > >

For a football player Jeongguk sure does have shitty balance. But then again you have to give him benefit of the doubt because he is blindfolded. As you help him up the steps you can’t help but admire how he looks-- hair up in a bun once again, as tiny strands fall on either side of his face. Everything about him is unlike a football player except for the bomber jacket he is wearing. It’s like the trademark of college football and it screams “captain”.

“Y/n, will you catch me if I fall?” he muses, following you quietly as you hold his hand and lead him. You hadn’t wanted to, but then he took it upon himself to hold your hand because-

“It’s good practice. I am going to be doing this a lot. So why not get some practice in?” he jokes earning himself a hard slap on the arm. “Ow!” he whines. “What the fuck girlfriend?”

“I swear Jeon, you call me that one more time I will kill you” you say in a firm even voice.

“Anyway” he waves you off quickly. “Will you catch me if I fall?” he muses

“Do I look like I can catch you? You are two times taller than I am” you shake your head at his idiocy.

“Shh” he places a finger on his lips. “Don’t let the feminists hear you” he chuckles, making you snort.

“Did you just laugh at my joke?’ he asks, stepping over the final step of the stairs with your help.

“You’re hallucinating” you deadpan.

You walk towards the front door hand in hand, Jeongguk’s eyes still blindfolded. knock on the door and don’t even have to wait before Jimin is opening the door while flashing his positively bright smile at you. “You came!” he wraps you in a hug and notices yours and Jeongguk’s hands laced together tightly. “Did you finally agree to be his girlfriend?” he whispers

“No you dumbass. He’s blindfolded so I was helping him. Do you want the captain of the football team to break his leg or something?” you frown at him in disbelief. He could be super naive sometimes— or maybe you can be super blind.

“Too bad” he shrugs. “You guys are cute together” he whispers before ushering you and Jeongguk in.

The moment you enter inside, you separate yourself from Jeongguk for much needed space. You find yourself heading towards the tiny bar counter near the kitchen, upon which are laid various types of alcohol-- just what you need, because if you are to survive this party with Jeongguk you need to be slightly buzzed.

Behind you, commotion begins which draws your attention as you turn around.Jeongguk greets his teammates with a wide grin on his face, and then his eyes catch yours and you almost gasp because of the surprise and quickly avert your gaze.

For some reason which you cannot fathom, you look up again to find him hugging one of his teammates but his gaze is directed at you, as he smiles. He lets go of his teammate and for a brief second interacts with him before his eyes flicker back to you.

You need to look away, you should look away but you don’t. Instead, you make eye contact and it lasts for a good four seconds before you realize you really should not be doing that.

Once it gets too overwhelming— the feelings and sensations— you turn towards the alcohol and pour yourself a glass. You chug it before pouring another and then turning around to face the living room where Jeongguk is. He is high fiving and hugging and greeting people and you wonder if it gets exhausting as you sip your drink. You notice the smile on his face for one brief moment, which makes your mouth split into a grin. But then you realize what you’re doing and zip your mouth into a line, schooling your expression into one of boredom.

You look to the other side of the living room and find a young couple busy amongst themselves, detached from the rest of their surroundings. They’re playing with each other’s fingers and they’re talking and laughing, oblivious to everything. You observe them and somehow the image of them translates into one of you and Jeongguk for a brief second. You almost drop the glass in your hand, eyes widening in horror.

Jeongguk quietly slides next to you. “What’s got you that way?”

“Jesus!” you jump. “Can you stop creeping up on me like that?”

“Sorry, love”. The nickname he has for you flows past his lips so naturally and effortlessly. Surprisingly enough you never cared much for it but somehow at this moment, you realize how easily he addresses you like that. It’s a term of endearment not everyone uses. Yet he does, and when it happens you manage to block it out. But right now you hear it loud and clear. You glance at the cup in your hand and attribute your sudden attention to detail to the alcohol. “What were you thinking?” he gazes at you.

“Nothing” you shake your head, eyes flickering to the couple.

Jeongguk glances between you and them breaking out into a grin. “Do you want that?” he questions with a quiet gentleness to his voice which once again manages to catch you off guard.

On the one hand, his softer side makes you want to hug him, while on the other his usual self makes you want to hit him for acting like an idiot. There is no middle ground between the two.

“I am drinking and you’re the one acting drunk” you state with a scoff

“Oh, love” he sighs, and there it is again— that awareness of how easily he calls you ‘love’.

“Why do you call me that?” you question, supplying a sincere look that you hope conveys your curiosity.

“Because you remind me of love and how it’s supposed to be warm, selfless, giving, radiant and innocent” his lips form into that soft, fond smile that always succeeds in making your heart race, just like it is now.

“I remind you of love?” your curiosity piques the more you look at him.

He nods.

“Are you high?” you face scrunches in confusion as you stare at him.

He snickers but somehow his voice comes out laced with disappointment. “Too stubborn to see as always” he turns his head to observe at the couple

You blink, trying your best to understand what he means but all he offers you is a smile, the meaning of which you can’t decipher. Because although he’s smiling, there is something in his eyes-- in the way they are too solemn, the way his smile isn’t reaching his eyes which makes your chest fill with a heavy feeling.

You elect to ignore his comment because you don’t want to engage in whatever this is between you. It’s too overwhelming, this fine line you walk between being frenemies one moment and something more the next. It never helps that Jeongguk always says something that is neither here nor there and is something smack dab in the middle of the spectrum which leaves you feeling even more confused.

“How did you like the surprise?” you put the cup of beer down behind you on the counter and jump up to sit on in.

“It’s nice” he muses as his eyes still rest on the couple. He’s got a faint smile on his face as he leans against the counter, elbows resting on the top.

For a moment it confuses you because you don’t know whether he means the get-together or the two lovebirds immersed in their own world. His eyes are filled with a kind of longing you have never seen in them before. They are solemn yet they twinkle with a hope-- for what you don’t know. But when he’s like this, lost in his own thoughts, disengaged from the world-- that's when you truly see him.

“Just nice?” you question, which catches his attention for a brief second as he glances at you and then goes back to observing the couple.

“Yeah. Nice” he supplies, still looking like he’s too lost in his thoughts. You follow his gaze and find yourself also looking at the unknown couple.

“Don’t tell me this surprise has got you all sappy”

“Why?” he turns his head towards you. “You don’t like me when I am like this?”

“I don’t like you anyway” you roll your eyes-- but it’s playful.

“Liar” he whispers pulling his lower lip between his teeth, lips curving into a tiny flirty smile.

You clear your throat as it suddenly feels dry. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind”

“Perceptive as always” he chuckles.

“Well, it’s not hard when you’re only like this five percent of the time and the other ninety-five-you fuck around” a corner of your lip tugs into a teasing smile, which he catches.

“I take it back. You wouldn’t be able to see it if it was staring you right in the face” he says with a shake of his head as his head hangs low.

“See what?” a frown decorates your forehead as confusion registers in your mind at his words.

“Everything” he glances at you. “All of it. How do you not see it?”

“See what?” you gesture wildly with your hands because you hate how he’s being so not specific about whatever it is he’s going on about. “Can you be any more vague” you sigh.

He mutters something under his breath, his fist clenched by his side.

“What is going on with you?” you actually feel confused and slightly frustrated. “Can’t you be direct?”

“Can you be more of a fool y/n. How is it that you have a high IQ but a low EQ?” he imitates your sigh-- looking utterly defeated. The fact that he’s talking in circles is beginning to make your head spin.

“Excuse me?” you nudge him hard feeling defensive, letting your feelings escape through your tone.

“Are you really going to make me say it again? Right now?” he dismisses in a soft tone with a shake of his head.

“Yes!” you look at him with wide eyes. “Please say it and spare me this pain of trying to figure out what’s gotten into you”

“Why do you care?” he folds his arms across his chest, giving you that slightly narrow-eyed curious look.

“Because--” you stare at him open-mouthed. “I can’t believe I am saying this but you are much more bearable when you are your usual annoying talkative self. Whatever this is” you wag your finger up and down at him. “I don’t like it” For whatever reason, it’s true. You don’t like it when he acts all stressed out and withdraws into himself. It irks you because you like him when he’s smiling, and laughing-- way more than you would care to admit.

Then you pick up your beer cup and resume mindless drinking as Jeongguk watches you quietly with a tiny hint of a smile on his mouth. He doesn’t stop you, he doesn’t even blink. All he does is observe you quietly which is worse because it unsettles you. You notice him and suddenly the small sips turn into hugs gulps as you chug the drink and slam the glass on the counter.

He folds his arms across his chest with a faint smile on his lips which doesn’t quite reach his eyes, yet the corners crinkle-- it’s when someone in love silently admires the subject of their affections.

“Stop looking at me like that”

“How much do you hate me?” his voice is quiet, yet that muted smile remains on his lips

“Hate. Pffft” you press your lips in a thin line. “That’s a strong word” a hiccup escapes your chest.

The tiny sound draws Jeongguk’s attention and quickly he turns and pours you a glass of water. It hovers in front of you as you look between him and his outstretched hand. He motions with his head to glass as he looks at you. You drink it and find the cool water soothing the burning sensation in your throat.

“My, my Jeon” you put the glass down. “Aren’t you thoughtful?” an imperceptible smile crosses your lips.

“It’s part of my charm” he shrugs with that snarky quality making its way back into his voice.

You snap and point a finger at him. “That’s what I am talking about. This is much better. Please don’t become all sappy on me. It’s not a good look on you”

He chuckles. “And worrying for me is not a good look on you” he gently taps the tip of your nose with a playful wink.

You snort. “Who said I was worried for you?”

“If this wasn’t your failed attempt at getting me to cheer up then what was it?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Delusional as always” you pass a shy, flirty smile which he reciprocates as you both quietly look at each other-- and to a third party you would look like two people too blind to see how deep they are in their feelings for one another.

“Right. I am totally delusional are you’re totally not worried about me “he mumbles under his breath.

“Stop saying I am worried about you. Why would I be worried about you?” you fold your arms defensively over your chest shooting him an unimpressed look.

> > > > > >

If there is one thing in the world that can unite you and Jeongguk, it’s UNO. As you sit in a circle— swearing under your breath because you and Jeongguk are losing against Hoseok and Jimin— you can’t help but want to kick whosoever idea this was. That is because you hate losing, and Jeongguk definitely hates losing. But then you got placed into one team because apparently a boyfriend and girlfriend should be together in one team.

And now you’re in a losing situation and both of you are feeling too competitive. From the periphery of your vision you glance at Jeongguk to find his brows knitted in concentration, lower lip pulled between his teeth.

“What do you think?” Jeongguk leans in to whisper against your ear as he turns the cards slightly towards you so you can see them.

“Play the blue one” you eye the discard pile and notice a blue card which serves your turn well.

Jeongguk plays the blue one and you end up with two cards. The game continues on and Jimin and Hoseok also have two cards left. The atmosphere around you is silent as the other teams who had already had their turn watch in anticipation.

“UNO” you yell startling Jeongguk who is right next to you. His eyes widen and a grin teeters to the edges of his lips.

“UNO!” he yells as he realizes he’s only holding one card.

Jimin and Hoseok have vexed looks on their faces as they eye you and Jeongguk. “Damn” Jimin mumbles under his breath as he slams the last two cards on the floor while you and Jeongguk celebrate.

“We won!” he shoots up and you follow as both of you jump up and down holding hands and then he pulls you in for a bear hug.

“Good job y/n” he sways you side to side.

“You too Jeon!” you give a gentle squeeze.

You embrace each other in the middle of the living room— Meanwhile everyone else watches you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“I told you she likes him” Jimin whispers to Hoseok.

“Does she know she likes him?” Hoseok asks a legit question because god knows you can be blind and knowingly stubborn when it comes to admitting your feelings for a certain Jeon Jeongguk.

>>>>>>>>>>

After that very intense game of UNO ends, Jimin and Hoseok decide it’s a great idea to go out for drinks. It’s actually a very bad idea because you’re already sort of buzzed and so is everyone else because there was more than enough booze at Jimin’s place. But somehow it’s not as fun drinking in the house as it is outside the house-- a logic you cannot understand.

You tried to get out of it-- really tried but then Hoseok threatened to tell Jeongguk about that one time you got drunk in high school and serenaded him thinking he was Zac Efron. It’s the one truly terrifying experience of your life that you like to keep under wraps. Of course it sucks that Hoseok knows all this about you and can use it against you. So when you hear that Jeongguk might become privy to this deepest darkest secret of yours-- of course you don’t want him to know.

At first your immediate response is a very hyperenthusaistic ‘no’ when Hoseok says he’ll tell Jeongguk. You don’t even hesitate for a second before the word slips out of your mouth--albeit very loudly. Then once you have had time to digest your reaction, you can’t help but wonder why you were desperate enough to say no without even a slight hesitation. You dwell on it, and then some more and as you’re all walking towards the nearest pub, you reach this conclusion: it’s because if Jeongguk knows he’ll use it against you, which you simply won't stand for.

You say it like it's a mantra in your head-- quietly walking next to Jeongguk who is too busy talking about football with Hoseok and Jimin to pay attention to how silent you’ve fallen. You repeat it again and again because a small part of you tries to refute that weak reasoning-- almost as if you’re trying to make yourself believe that you don’t want any embarrassing detail of your life made known to Jeongguk because he’ll use it against and not because you’ll simply be too embarrassed if he of all people finds out.

It’s the exact same thing Jimin had said when that desperate no had crossed your lips.

“See? You like him so much you don’t even want him to know about this because you’ll be embarrassed and you don’t want him to think you’re weird. Why can’t you just accept it?” he had said, at which point you had opted to slap him upside the head and settle for a small shut up. After all, there are only finite ways in which one can say ‘no’.

You shake your head as if that will make all these thoughts go away. Then the unthinkable happens as you’re walking to your destination. Jeongguk while still conversing with Hoseok and Jimin, slowly slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers and pulls you close to his side. He’s so subtle about it he doesn’t even stop to look at you. He just does it naturally without drawing attention, without uttering a single word and without interrupting his conversation with your best friends.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you feel your heart skipping a beat and then a second later it starts hammering-- reminding you that you can’t run away. Sure you can alter your thoughts and your words, but physically you can’t control these reactions Jeongguk incites in you.

You glance up at the man walking next to you. All you can focus on is the warm feeling of his hand against yours and how he’s acting so naturally as if he’s done this--holding your hand thing-- every single day of his life. Small tingles escape from the palm of your hands and travel up your arm and then it spreads to the rest of your body as a chill runs down your spine. As if that’s not enough your lips begin to curve up in a smile, and as you try to bite down on your lip to stop yourself, you feel the tightness stretching your cheeks and you end up giving in despite yourself-- smiling like a fool living in the sweet denial of love.

You gulp hard and then out of nowhere the realization hits you that you haven’t even once tried to wrest your hand from his. You’ve just let it be and walked hand in hand with him like it’s natural for you too. He keeps you close to his side, his grip snug against your hand so that if you wanted to you could slip your hand out easily. You should, you definitely should but you don’t which itself brings about an onslaught of a hundred different thoughts.

While you are busy having a mental breakdown, you arrive at the pub, to find a long line outside stretching for about half a block.

“I told you we should have made reservations” Hoseok whines.

“Reservations for drinks? Are you crazy bro?” Jimin replies with a shake of his head.

Jeongguk chuckles watching the exchange between your friends all the while holding onto your hand, and you stand quietly next to him hoping they don’t see it.

“It’s chilly” Hoseok suddenly mumbles and then you feel it.

Now that he’s said it, of course you’re feeling it.

Then another unthinkable thing happens. Jeongguk very subtly places your already interlocked hands in his jacket pocket. Once again he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look at you, or interrupt the conversation. He just does it like he’s done this a million times too. You glance up at him and he’s just looking at Hoseok and Jimin as they bicker with a smile. It’s not the fact that your hand is currently locked in his. It’s not the awareness of the emotions and sensations you’re feeling. What makes your knees go weak and your chest swell with emotion is how quietly he’s doing it. There is something about the way that he’s so natural about it that makes your heart race faster. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels just right-- and that’s what makes you so nervous.

You feel the warmth rise to your cheeks, softly melting into your skin and morphing into heat as it emanates. Even the slight chill in the night air isn’t enough to dull it down. Your breathing becomes faster, your lungs feel like they are being stretched as you try your best to take in air, but none it ever gets down there because you just can't remember how to breathe. You can feel the adrenaline in your veins, your mouth slowly but surely drying as each second passes with your hand shoved enveloped by the warmth of Jeongguk’s hand wrapped around yours.

Jimin’s eyes accidentally fall onto your disappeared hands. He nudges Hoseok who follows his line of sight to find your and Jeongguks’ hands safely tucked in his pocket. Wide smiles plaster themselves onto their lips as they look on, while both of you remain unaware of the two pairs of eyes closely observing you.

“We’ll be here all night long” Jeongguk speaks at which point both Jimin and Hoseok wipe the smiles on their faces and pretend not to have seen anything while nodding along.

“Should we just leave?” Jimin questions.

You’re the first one to nod in agreement-- too enthusiastically in fact which makes Jeongguk utter a soft chuckle as he looks down at you.

“Yeah” he mumbles quietly, as his gaze rests on you taking in how small you look next to him and how much he’ll give anything to keep you by his side-- safe and sound.

>>>>>>>>>

It’s been two weeks since you were given the task of writing Jeongguk’s profile and for the thousandth time as you sit to write, your mind draws a blank. How do you begin and where do you begin? The biggest issue for you though is maintaining objectivity because somehow the time you have spent with Jeongguk has made you realize several different things.

1. He’s not as bad as you thought he was, and therefore you can’t really hate him anymore 2. Since you can't hate him anymore, you don’t know what you are supposed to do 3. You feel things around him that you haven’t felt around other people and you are terrified as to what it means.

The library thankfully is empty save for you so you can whine and complain aloud without attracting attention which is what you are busy doing when Jimin walks in. He looks like death-- hair dishevelled and sticking out in different directions, face smeared slightly with dirt along with his shirt, and a shuffling gait as he approaches you.

He falls down limply onto the chair, leaning against the back and his arms fall loosely to the sides. You arch a brow in curiosity as you observe the young boy in front of you who suddenly looks like he’s gained years.

“Wow” you comment, shutting down your laptop, lowkey thankful for the distraction. “You look like shit”

“Blame your damn boyfriend” he mumbles, eyelids half droopy.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you glare at Jimin.

“Whatever it is” he waves you off. “Can’t you just accept it? He’s taking it out on us” Jimin lifts himself off the chair and offers you an impassive, blank look.

“What do you mean?” your face contorts in confusion.

“He’s frustrated. All of us can see it. Hell, the whole fucking college knows except you” he looks at you with the same lifeless gaze.

“Knows what?”

“Jeongguk likes you!” Jimin throws his hands in the air, finally the listless look replaced by some kind of emotion-- mostly frustration.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “He doesn’t”. Despite him basically having confessed to you that day by the bus stop, you still refuse to believe it.

“Oh for fuck's sake” he groans, hiding his face in his palms.

“We’ve been practicing for four hours straight. All because he’s annoyed you can’t see his feelings and he’s trying to make that frustration go away by distracting himself with football. Or way worse because you refuse to acknowledge his feelings and your own”

“I am dead inside Jimin” you try to lighten the mood but Jimin only supplies a blank look, definitely not impressed. “Sorry” you look away sheepishly.

“Please y/n” please Jimin falls off his chair and onto his knees as he looks at you--pleading with despair.

“Jimin what the hell?” you jump from your seat in surprise as you force him to get up. “Stop”

“You stop. You like him right?” Jimin falls back on his seat with a long sigh.

“I don’t” you avoid his eyes, as yours dart around.

“Fine then. I guess we'll just set him up with Jaehyun’s sister” Jimin pouts with a shrug.

At this your head whips in his direction so fast you end up feeling dizzy. “What?”

“Yeah. Jaehyun has been pestering Jeongguk for months to date his sister because he thinks they’ll make a good couple. Honestly, I think so too because I have met his sister and she is very sweet and has a warm personality. Jeongguk will like her too once he meets her.”

You blink, feeling your energy being drained away and a sense of dread settling into your stomach. The thought of Jeongguk with someone else obviously doesn’t sit well with you because of the sense of urgency that starts to build. You don’t know what for, but it rises out of your stomach and slowly spreads to the rest of your body turning you restless. You look at Jimin, hoping he can see what you’re feeling in your eyes, the way Jeongguk sees it. But all Jimin does is stare at you in a blank fashion, as if he is incapable of expressing himself in any other way.

An image of Jeongguk with another girl passes through your mind and you shut your eyes tight to make it go away because it leaves its mark in your chest in the form of panic. All you feel is panic. Panic because Jeongguk might end up liking Jaehyun’s sister. Because if he likes her then somehow you’ll feel bad and if you feel bad then that means…

“What are you two doing here?”

Jimin turns his head towards the owner of the voice and you look past his shoulder to see the devil walking towards you, with his bag slung over one shoulder, black shirt hanging loosely off his frame, black sweatpants fitting perfectly along the curves of his thighs and to complete the look black boots along with a black baseball cap on his head, with his long hair sticking out of the bottom around his neck.

Damn him and his stupid fucking outfits. He never even tries and yet he has the ability to make your heart flutter.

“Jeon?”

“Must you always greet me like this y/n?” his lips stretch into a playful smile as he takes off his backpack and sits on the empty chair next to you.

“Must you sit next to me?” you glance at him and quickly open your laptop again to distract yourself.

“ I want to” his smile only widens.

You groan internally because you’re feeling it all over again— the butterflies, the heat seeping into your cheeks, the way your heart starts to beat faster and your breaths hitch in your throat.

“What are you writing?” he leans in towards you his shoulder touching yours. Your eyes widen momentarily at the contact.

“Umm” you clear your throat. “About you”

“I knew you liked me!” He whispers excitedly in your ear

“What!?” you shriek, unable to control the thrumming of your chest.

“Why can’t you just accept it?” he leans in further, nose gently touches the side of your face and your eyes automatically close as he makes you feel so many emotions. Overwhelmed, you push your chair away and run out.

“Y/n!” Jeongguk calls out after you with a grin stuck to his face.

“Why do you always do this?” Jimin shakes his head at him once you are gone.

“It’s fun. Plus it's cute how y/n blushes every time” he says with a playful grin.

“Fucking whipped man” Jimin sighs

Jeongguk leans into the palm of his hand squishing his cheek as he sulks. “I’ve always been whipped. Your best friend just refuses to see it”

“Whatever will happen to you two” Jimin purses his lips and shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

>>>>>>>>>>>

After running out like a damn coward from the library, and leaving all your stuff there like the intelligent person you are-- you end up bumping into Kinsey who is one of your group mates for a project you’re doing in your horrendous Microbiology class. You thought it would be a fun class with getting to wear that white lab coat and conducting experiments but you instead find the class to be so boring it makes you fall asleep.

“Hey Kinsey” you greet with a smile.

“Hey y/n. You remember we’re meeting today for the end of term project right?”

Do you remember that? No. Will you tell her? No.

“Yes I do” you lie with ease.

“We’ll see you in the library then at 6 as decided?”

Holy shit at 6 pm? How the hell are you supposed to get home?. You have half a mind to say no but you realize that your whole grade rides on this project and you end up getting a bad grade, you won’t just screw yourself, you’ll screw everyone else too which isn’t fair. So you agree to meet in the library at six and you are sure that you’ll be late getting home because when in this world ever have group meetings finished on time?

Kinsey leaves you with a lot to think about. However most important at this time though is getting your stuff from the library but you’re too scared to go back. But you have no choice because one you can’t just leave your stuff at the mercy of Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk, and two you still have a couple of hours to spare until you meet your group. So you need your stuff. Otherwise without your laptop, and your cell phone which you also left on the table-- you have nothing to do. At the very least you need these two things.

So begrudgingly, hating how the logic makes sense, you trudge back the way you came, and quietly sneak to the second floor, keeping your eyes and ears open in case Jeon Jeongguk appears. He has this bad habit of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.

When you reach the second floor, to your right are the bookshelves and you quickly hide behind one and peek from behind at the tables on the opposite side to you. You catch the sight of the table you were sitting on but it’s empty and none of your stuff is there. One of them took it and you desperately hope it was Jimin and not--

“Looking for this?” you turn around to find Jeongguk holding your bag by the grab handle mid-air, raising a brow at you.

Holy shit.

You reach for your bag but he retreats his arm. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

“No” you shake your head, reaching for the bag again but he steps back.

“Stop doing that and give me my backpack. I have a lot of work to do, unlike you”

“You are avoiding me” he says with a straight face.

“I really need my things Jeon. I am supposed to meet my group at 6 for a project so I need my stuff. Please”

“You’re staying here until after 6?” he stretches his arm and holds your bag out to you.

“Yeah” you nod, taking the bag and putting the straps over your shoulder.

“How will you get home?The bus stops running early today because of the parade”

“I’ll figure something out” you shrug and pivot on your heels, beginning your walk to somewhere you can be alone because lord knows being around Jeongguk is overwhelming and leaves you feeling like you don’t know what to do with yourself.

>>>>>>>

You had gotten so busy with working on his profile that you kind of put everything else on the back burner— including the one group assignment you had to do as an end of term project.

You and your group mates head out towards the parking lot after finishing because for one all of them drove and second you could take a shortcut through the parking lot to get to the bus stop two blocks down. Had it not been for the stupid spring parade the road wouldn’t be blocked and you wouldn’t have to walk two damn blocks just to catch the other bus.

Your group members even offer to give you a ride home but you refuse because you don’t want to be a burden.

“Bye” you said to Kinsey, and just as you turn around to leave your eyes fall upon none other than Jeongguk who is leaning against the hood of his car— eyes glued to his phone.

“Oh. I get it. Your boyfriend was coming to pick you up” Kinsey says with a suggestive smile on her face.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “I didn’t even know he was here”

“It’s alright. I get it” she winks as she opens the door. “Have fun”

You open your mouth to protest but she is already settled in the car and starting the engine. Then she drives off into the night leaving you a little shocked.

Once she disappears from your sight you walk over to Jeongguk who doesn’t see you coming.

“What are you doing here at this time of the night?” you stop in front of him catching his attention.

“Oh hey!” he puts his phone away and greets you with that cheeky smile. “I am here to pick you up”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s..” he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “It’s 10:05 at night and you should not be taking transit. It’s not safe”

“But-”

“What kind of a guy would I be if I let a girl— a catch like you— take the transit in the middle of the night. My mom didn’t raise me that way” he shakes his head. “Besides, I can’t have some random handsome stranger on the bus steal you away from me” he breaks out into his signature tooth grin, eyes disappearing into moon shaped crescents.

“I don’t know what kinds of movies you have been watching all your life to get that stupid idea in your head. But It’s okay. I am a big girl. I can handle myself” you offer a smile before pivoting with the intention of walking away. However, you forget you are talking to Jeongguk— he doesn’t give up easily.

He tugs you back by the grab handle on top of your backpack.“Y/n wait” You turn around to look at him.

“Please just come. I’ll feel better about it. I really don’t want you taking transit at this time. It’s not safe. I don’t want anything happening to you”

You regard him— how he’s silently pleading with those sparkly eyes of his, how he sounds so concerned and genuine.

“I live forty minutes away. What if you get hungry?”

“I ate. Plus I came prepared with snacks” he looks proud of himself as he cheekily grins at you.

“What if your parents get mad at you?” you fold your arms

“I am a big boy y/n. Besides, I live alone”

“What if the car runs out of gas?” you quirk a brow at him

“The tank is full. I made sure of that when I came here”

“Umm then, what if….” you stumble for another excuse.

“Nope. No more excuses” he wags his finger side to side.

“Okay. But it’ll take you like two hours to get back home because you live on the opposite side of the city and you have practice tomorrow morning. So you’ll need to wake up early which means if you drop me off you will get home late and won’t have enough time to sleep. If you don’t get enough sleep then how will you go into practice tomorrow morning” you ramble out of concern for him.

He waves you off. “My love, I’ll be fine”

“What if you are so tired, you can’t concentrate and then you injure yourself?”

“I won’t injure myself. I’ll get enough sleep. Stop worrying about me”

“I am not worried about you” you scoff, looking away as your pupils shake.

“Okay fine. You’re totally not worried about me. I concede. Will you please just get in so I can drive you home, then get back to my precious bed and get that proper sleep you’re so not worried about?”

You bite your lip in indecision. Then you figured the more you stand here wasting time the later he would get home— not that you care. But you also know refusing wouldn’t be an option for two reasons: one Jeongguk would rather die than let you take the bus and two it might sort of, kind of break his heart if you refused. But you settle on the former being the reason for saying yes, and definitely not the latter.

“Fine. Thank you” your lips stretch into a grateful making him smile as well.

“Anytime my love” and like the gentleman, he is he opens the door for you and you sit in and he drives you home.

Once you’ve reached home, he leans in and pecks you on the cheek. “Good night y/n” his eyes sparkle as the moonlight through the window hits his irises.

“Drive safe Jeon. Good night” you whisper

>>>>>>>>

The next day, you’re in the elevator heading to your class when it stops at one the floors and a bunch of girls get in squishing you. You shuffle as far back as you can and find yourself pinned to a corner.

“Did you hear Jeongguk asked Jihyun out?” one of them says with a dirty scowl on her face.

Your eyes widen as the words register in your head and your heart starts pounding against your chest.

“Jihyun?” one of the girls in the group asks

“Yeah. Jaehyun’s sister” the first girl replies with yet another scowl.

“Wow. I thought he would never date anyone” the second girl.

“A guy like him can’t be single for too long” the other shrugs.

So when Jimin told you that they would set Jeongguk up with Jaehyun’s sister he wasn’t joking. You had taken it too lightly and now Jeongguk is with another girl.

A lump forms in your throat and you try your best to choke it back. But then the tightness builds and you feel the back of your throat constricting and a tiny sob escapes. You slap a hand to your mouth as the two girls look at you. You duck your head low so they can’t see the tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

You press the button for the next floor since the board is right next to you. The elevator bell dings and you push past them, earning glares in response.

The tears you had been trying to hold back fall onto your cheeks one after another and your nose starts to feel stuffy. You keep your head low and avoid eye contact with people around you.

As if your luck couldn’t get any worse you end up bumping your head into someone’s chest—

“Sorry” a familiar voice cuts through the air and you wish that a hole open up in the ground to swallow you whole. “Y/n?”

Jeon frickin Jeongguk makes an appearance at the worst moment.

You try to sidestep him but he tugs your arm to make you stop. “Are you crying?”

“Let me go” you croak, trying to wrest your wrist from his grasp. But he only pulls you towards him. You keep your head low to avoid looking at him.

“Why are you crying?” his soft voice only makes the urge to sob worse.

“It’s none of your business” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you bite through clenched teeth. “Let me go!” you yank your wrist out of his grasp and walk past him to continue on your unknown destination.

“Wait” he pulls at your wrist again. “Did someone say something to you? Do I need to kick someone’s ass because I’ll gladly do it” he’s looking into your eyes with that stupid fucking look-- slight crinkle on his forehead, eyes full of concern that makes you want to melt into a puddle of goo. You look at him, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to decipher exactly what is going through his head. He’s no one. He’s not your boyfriend, he’s not even a friend. To top it all off he’s asked someone else out. So why does he care so much?

You roll your eyes. “Can't you mind your own business?. Besides your girlfriend won’t appreciate seeing you holding onto me like this” you lift the wrist he’s holding and glance at it and then back at him.

“Oh” a look of realization crosses his face, and very subtly a corner of his lips tugs up, but then he’s quick to revert to his usual neutral expression. He lets go of your wrist, and without a word, you pivot on your heels and leave him standing there.

Had you looked back you would have noticed him shaking his head with an affectionate smile that reached his eyes, as he watched your retreating figure.

>>>>>>>>>>

The last thing-- the very last thing you want is to leave the house. You just want to wallow in your misery which you don’t fully comprehend, or rather refuse to acknowledge the reason for. That’s all you want. But having Jimin and Hoseok and best friend’s makes things difficult. You wish that there was a refund policy for friendships because you would definitely cash in on it when both of them barge into your room and rip the covers off you.

You shoot both of them a glare and lift yourself to pull the covers back and fall back onto the bed again. You clutch onto the covers tightly so they can't take them off you. But two of them are stronger than one of you and you feel the cold draft hitting you when they manage to get the duvet off you again.

“What!” you yell at them.

“Get up!” they say in unison.

“Fuck off!” you yell back

“Stop being a child and get up. The world hasn’t ended. You say you don’t even like him! So why are you acting all butt hurt about it” Hoseok’s firm voice cuts through the silence.

“I am not butthurt” you fold your arms defensively as you frown at him.

“Seriously y/n, if you don’t get up I am going to the very last thing you want” Jimin threatens as he folds his arms across his chest too and pouts at you-- daring you to disobey.

“You are all words” you scowl at him.

“Fine” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he dials and then puts the phone next to his ear. “Jeongguk, come over right now”

“Jimin!” you yell and shoot up from the bed and jump on Jimin as he catches you by wrapping one arm around your waist. He extends his arm away from your reach and puts the phone on speaker. “Hang up!” you slap him repeatedly on his back. “Hang the fuck up!”

“What’s going on?” you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“Hang up Jimin!!” you yell at the top of your lungs.

“Alright. I am coming over” you hear Jeongguk’s voice before the dial tone rings.

You look from the phone to Jimin, who is smiling at you. “Don’t challenge me next time y/n”

Jimin lets go of you and you flop on the bed with a thud. “I hate you” you glance at them both before hiding your face behind your hands.

“We love you too. So, now he’s coming over. Here’s what is going to happen” Hoseok crouches down in front of you and pulls your hands away from your face, holding them tight to your sides as he looks at you. “You’re going to tell him how you feel about him. Don’t dare deny it y/n” he warns.

“But he asked Jihyun-”

“No” Jimin says sternly and shakes his head. “No more excuses”

You look at Jimin and then down at Hoseok. “You guys suck”

“You know you like him. You do” he pauses as he studies you carefully. “Just tell him because he likes you too. A lot. He’s even told you like a million times. Stop breaking his heart”

“What?” your eyes widen as you feel betrayed. “Breaking his heart? When did I-” and then you realize how many times he said he liked you-- directly and indirectly-- and how everytime you brushed him off.

“You know y/n, there is only so much time he will wait for you. If you don’t, he’ll move on and then you’ll regret not saying anything” Jimin speaks as he peers into your eyes.

“Exactly” Hoseok nods.

You groan and fall back onto the bed. “I hate all of this”

Jimin grabs one of your arms and Hoseok grabs the other as they pull you up. “Stop” both of them say in unison again.

“Tell him” Hoseok says a final time before both of them retreat out of your room, giving you plenty to think about.

> > > > > > >

As not promised, Jeongguk shows up. He actually shows up at your place. He always does things he’s not supposed to do like showing up at your place and never does things he’s supposed to do like answer your interview questions. When you hear the front the door open, you quickly run to the door of your room and stand with your back against it, pushing as much as you can because you know Hoseok and Jimin are going to come at any moment to get you.

As expected you hear the sounds of footsteps and whispers outside your door. “She better not have locked it” you hear Hoseok mumble.

You feel the handle digging into the small of your back as Hoseok tries to open the door from the other side. You press your lips together, as the pain gets to you slowly. You try to hold it in but then the door bursts open. You lose your balance since you are pushed away due to the sheer force that is Jimin and fall to the floor on your knees.

“I knew it” Hoseok looks at you accusingly from behind Jimin as he holds open the door. “He’s here”

“Go downstairs and talk to him” Jimin helps you up.

“Do I have to?” you look at him pleadingly.

“Yes. What do you think is going to happen if you tell him?” he says in a firm voice

“I don’t know” you reply. But you imagine Jeongguk could just change his mind and tell you he never liked you, in which case you would be hurt. He could tell you he likes Jihyun now and that he’s forgotten all about you. He could tell you he’s already moved on and then things are awkward between you for the rest of your college life. But more than all of this is just the fact that he’s Jeongguk and you are y/n and your relationship was never supposed to come to this.

You were always supposed to walk that thin line between friends and enemies and nothing more. But then you got to know Jeongguk and how kind he is. You got to know his ambitions and how hard he will work for them. You understood that he’s a human too and he breaks down like everyone else. That understanding changed something — in fact it changed everything.

So is it not natural for you to hesitate? Why can’t everyone understand that?

At being met nothing but silence Jimin shoves you out of your room, his hand resting on the small of your back, until you are downstairs in the living room just to make sure you don’t run away.

They know you too well.

“Go!” Jimin pushes you and you end up stumbling towards Jeongguk who is standing with his back to you, his eyes glued to the football game. When you hit him because you lose your balance he is quick to turn around and steady you.

“Clearly God never blessed you with balance” he chuckles.”How are you always stumbling and falling over?” he steadies you by placing his hands on your arms and holding you in place.

“T-t-th-thanks” you mutter under your breath as he lets go of your arms. You allow your gaze to settle on the floor as you fidget with your hands. You look over your shoulder at Jimin and Hoseok both of whom give an imperceptible shake of their heads as you silently plead. You guess there is no choice.

“Why did you call me over?” Jeongguk turns to Jimin who abandons his defensive stance.

“Y/n has something to tell you” the corners of his mouth upturn in an encouraging smile as he looks from Jeongguk to you.

“You do?” Jeongguk looks at you with crinkled brows.

You stand silent, unable to look at him, unable to think-- powerless to even move a muscle much less your mouth. You can feel all three men looking at you. Jimin gently squeezes your shoulder.

“Well-” you clear your throat as you look at Hoseok who gives you a thumbs up. “Well the thing is” you clear your throat again, swallowing hard because your mouth is dry. “The- the- the thing is that… I--ummm.. I--uhhh. I-- well I ” you glance at Jeongguk who is watching you with nothing but patience.

“She likes you” Hoseok speaks out nowhere. No one asked him--literally no one. This isn’t how you were going to say it.

Your head whips in his direction as you look at him wide-eyed, and a panicked frown decorating your forehead.

“She does huh” Jeongguk muses with a slow understanding nod. You turn to face him. He’s grinning from ear to ear like a child. He steps towards you, to erase the already minimal distance. “I know you do” he says with a low voice, and a tiny smile that reaches his eyes.

“How?” you blink at him in confusion.

“I told you, your eyes always give you away y/n” he speaks in a gentle, calming tone which helps calm your nerves down. “In the hallway that day when you bumped into me, you were crying and when I asked why you told me to mind my own business. But then when I held your wrist you told me my girlfriend wouldn’t like it. The way you looked at me-- heartbroken, hurt, with so much anger and pain in your eyes -- I knew right then and there, my love” he reaches for both of your hands and holds them in his.

“Didn’t you ask Jihyun out?”

“That…” he tilts his head as he turns to look at Hoseok and Jimin pointing at them with his thumb. “It’s not true. It was their plan to get some kind of reaction out of you”

You turn to your best friends with a look of betrayal on your face. “What?”

“Would you have admitted your feelings otherwise?” Hoseok says defensively.

“Our work is done so we will leave,” Jimin says hurriedly already on the move and you open your mouth to chastise them but before you can they run-- as in sprint the fastest you have ever seen them before. Jeongguk chuckles watching them and you just stare at their retreating figures in disbelief.

“Well,” Jeongguk turns to you. “They aren’t wrong”

You bite your lip as you look at him. “I guess I like you”

He chuckles softly. “A guess is better than you denying it”

Silence befalls as both of you avoid each other’s gazes. Jeongguk awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck while you keep your gaze cast on the floor.

“You still like me? Despite me always brushing off your feelings?”

“Love” he nods, his voice an octave lower. “I’ll always love you. I’ll love you even when I hate you. You can break my heart, do whatever you want with it and I’ll still love you” he looks in your eyes, never once blinking.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

He blinks and his lips curve in a faint smile. “ It’s hard not to y/n. You’re amazing. My favourite thing about you is that you don’t even know how perfectly beautiful you are. You don’t see what I see and that’s your charm” he says in a low gentle voice.

“What don’t I see?”

“How loving you has made me calmer, wiser, kinder, easier, and... better” he steps towards you erasing the small amount of distance between you

“What else?” you whisper, feeling your stomach tightening in knots, and a soft quiver settling in between your thighs.

“You don’t see that you have the ability to make a man crazy with desire yet still be naive enough to not know that. It’s absolutely maddening”

“You always make it so--so hard for me, Jeon” you breathe heavily, feeling that quiet resolve to not acknowledge him deep within you break as each second passes. Because the truth is he does make it hard for you to hate him— and maybe the sun is finally coming up and reality is settling in.

“I think I am going to kiss you” his voice cuts through the silence.

You make a non-committal sound catching yourself off guard and to cover it up you clear your throat. You just look at him and hope he can understand that you are okay with it.

He leans in slowly, and wraps your hands around his waist as he pulls you in. “Stop me at anytime” he tilts his head to the side as his nose brushes past yours and then he presses his lips against yours very gently. Your lips tingle at the contact and intuitively your arms tighten around his waist as you pull him in. The gentle movements of his mouth grow stronger once your lips part and you start kissing him back.

He pulls you in further as his hand rests on the back of your head. Your toes curl from the adrenaline and you moan against his mouth. He pulls back as you take a quick breather in which he also manages to chuckle at your reaction.

“Shut up” you mumble against his mouth as you press your lips against his. You feel the heat building in every part of your body. Your face in particular feels very warm and so do your hands. Jeongguk’s lips move against yours and his hands slowly slide down to rest against the small of your back. He slightly pushes you and in you lose all your breath.

Then you’re tugging him by his shirt and jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He supports your weight as he starts walking up the stairs like you weigh nothing for him. Somehow this simple action makes you more impatient, makes you want more because it’s just hot?

Jeongguk kicks open your ajar door with his foot and lays you down on the bed without breaking the kiss. He pulls away first as both of you pant against each other’s mouths. “I told you I am a great kisser” he heaves with a soft chuckle.

You bite his lower lip gently. “Is that all you can do?” you tease.

“Are you sure?” he smooths your hair away from your face and then cups your cheeks as he lays a soft peck on your lips.

You nod your affirmation and pull him down again in a kiss. His hands grip your sides, gently stroking up and down which makes heat pool within your stomach. His touch sends shivers down your spine. You feel his fingers under your skin as your shirt rides up.

“Stop teasing” you breathe out.

“Patience babygirl” he grins wolfishly, a tiny mischievous glint in his eyes.

He captures your lips in his once again and then moves down to the crook of your neck as he pulls the sensitive skin between his teeth softly. A laugh escapes your lips as his breath tickles. “That’s going to leave a mark” you giggle.

“That’s the point” he kisses the same spot softly. “I fucking love you”

“Show me then” you whisper.

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate after you give him consent. His hands never rest in one place as they explore every part of your body. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he slides in and out of you, tells how beautiful he thinks you are. He doesn’t for one second let you feel uncomfortable and goes at your pace. He listens to you when you tell him what feels good and does exactly that.

“Jeon” you pant heavily as you pull him down towards you.

“You feel so damn good y/n” he pecks you on the lips as he bucks his hips in and out of you. You claw your fingers against his back giving into the rush he makes you feel. He utters a guttural sound at the contact. He continues his movements as he pushes your hair out of your face, cupping your cheek staring you directly in your eyes. “God you have no idea how beautiful you look right now” he whispers between breaths.

“Fuck” you moan as he bends down to capture your lips in his once more-- drinking in all the ecstasy running through your veins.

He’s gentle, even still as he holds you. His caresses, and touches are so soft they leave goosebumps in their wake. The moans and groans that escape past his lips only help you climax harder because you know he’s feeling good. That in itself is enough to make you come undone. When you do, Jeongguk is right there hovering above you, praising you, gently and softly kissing you as you convulse around him. Then he’s chasing his own high and your name softly passes through his lips and he falls limply on top you, kissing the crook of your neck.

He gathers you up in his arms as he rolls on his back. You cuddle against him, wrapping your arm around his torso, resting your face in the crook of his neck, leaving small feather light pecks. He’s so warm against your skin that it starts to make you feel sleepy.

“Goodnight, baby” he whispers against your forehead as he lays a gentle kiss.

Then you drift off to sleep in his arms-- safe, sound, protected, and loved.

> > > > > > >

The next morning the stupid chiming sound of your phone wakes you up. You crack an eye open and reach for it. Jeongguk’s name appears on the screen and your heart immediately starts beating faster. Last night comes to mind and you remember how he touched you, how your name had passed his lips as he had reached his high. You remember how he showed you he loved you. You remember the sweet smell of cinnamon from his skin, and the soft gentle caresses of his fingers against your skin.

You open the text with a smile.

Jeon Jerguk: breakfast is ready 💕

Breakfast?

Curious, you slide to the edge of the bed legs dangling to the floor with the intention of getting up but then you pick your phone and change Jeongguk’s name in your phone to Kookie with a heart beside it. He’s not so much of a jerk anymore.

Then you get up and upon feeling something under your feet, you look to find Jeongguk’s shirt. Your brows furrow. If his shirt is here then what is he wearing?

It turns out he isn't wearing a shirt at all. You gawk stupidly at his back which faces you while he’s making breakfast. You can see the curves of his biceps, the muscles straining in his back as he holds the pan in his hand. The deep line in the middle of his back which stops just above the hem of his jeans. You gulp hard, your fist clenching tighter on the shirt in your hand.

You clear your throat and he turns around. It was a bad idea- a really bad idea because now you can’t stop staring at him even more. It’s funny how abs have been glorified and sexualized so much that they are actually a part of a man’s sexual appeal. Unfortunately you have also fallen into that trap because you just can’t stop staring at that six pack he is sporting

“Y/n” Jeongguk grins noticing where your eyes are lurking.

“Huh?” you blink at him and then throw his shirt at him which hits his face. “Your shirt” you mumble quickly looking away.

“I was kind of hoping you would wear it” a wolffish, playful grin spreads on his mouth. But he takes the shirt and pulls it over his head and then down his torso.

“Uhh… well” you stumble for words avoiding his eyes.

“I am kidding” he starts walking towards you. He cups your cheeks before he’s placing a kiss on your forehead. “Breakfast?” he pulls away with a soft smile.

“You made breakfast?” you stare at him wide eyed, unable to hide your surprise.

“Always with the look of surprise” he says for the thousandth time.

“I just didn’t think…”

“I was hungry” he shrugs, and walks back to the stove.

You’re not surprised. He’s always hungry. There is never a moment when Jeongguk wouldn’t say he’s not hungry.

You take a seat at the island and he comes back with a plate in his hand and he places it in front of you. He leans on the counter on his elbows as he looks at you, making your stomach tighten.

You swallow hard. “French toast?” you again look at him in surprise and yet again he shakes his head.

“You really have to stop being so surprised at everything I do. It’s kind of offensive” he pouts.

“I’ll try my best not to” you take a bite. It’s actually good.

“How is it?” he looks upon you in anticipation.

“Really good” you mumble through a mouthful.

“Yes!” he punches the air

“How many girls have you done this for?” you chuckle.

“I’ll give you an actual reason to be surprised” he purses his lips. “You’re the first”

“You’re telling me-- you-- the captain of the football team, Jeon Jeongguk, have never done this before?” you point to your plate.

“Not just breakfast. Even last night. You’re the first”

“I am what!?” you gawk at him.

“You are the first girl I’ve slept with. Happy?”

He then turns around and gets his own plate, sitting down next to you. You don’t prompt him again regarding the same topic but you do feel special. Then this urge overcomes you and lean towards him and kiss him on the cheek. “You can be cute sometimes Jeon Jeongguk”

His lips spread in a wide grin and he leans in and pecks you on the corner of your mouth. “Happy to return the favor” he turns towards his plate, grabbing his fork and knife.

“So, serious question” you say just as he’s about to take a bite but stops mid-air.

“Anything” his lips tug upwards in a smile.

“What do we do now?”

“We do whatever you want, how ever you want” he says in a gentle voice

“Okay. I would love to beat around the bush but I think you should know what happened last night, although I don’t regret it-- I just want you to know that I don’t do that. I mean at least not how quickly it happened. I am not like-“

“We’ll jump the base whenever you want to, my love. We’ll do it at your pace. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and what is a ‘no’ for you. If you ever think I am rushing you just tell me. I don’t want to do this wrong. Especially not with you” the sincerity in his eyes is as clear as day. He’s not looking away, he’s not even blinking. He’s looking straight in your eyes and saying that which forces you to think he’s being honest. If he weren’t his body would have given him away. But he’s firm with his voice and his words.

“Thank you… Kookie” you quickly look away, slightly angling your body away from him out of sheer embarrassment. After all those sweet words, he deserves a sweet name like that doesn’t he?

He’s about to begin eating when a look of realization crosses his face and his hand stops midway to his mouth, toast dropping on the plate. “Wait what did you just call me?” he grabs your arm and spins you so you face him.

“I am just trying it out” you quickly glance at him and then rest your gaze on your lap.

“Wait, say it again” you can hear the smile in his voice. You don’t have to look up to know that he is in fact grinning.

“Kookie” you mumble.

“If I was a girl I would say my heart is going to burst and shit sprinkles all over”

“What?” you chuckle, the laughter bellowing from deep within your chest as it develops into a full bellyache.

“In other words, I love it! Please never call me anything else”

“You’re crazy” you shake your head

“Yeah. But only for you” his smile is so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

You haven’t seen Jeongguk all day long because he’s been busy practicing for the friendly game against the rival college team. Even though it’s supposed to be a pre-season game things tend to get intense when the Douglas Royals visit your college.

One would think it was the final game of the season with all the banners decorating the hall, people dressed in the white and red colours of the football team with face paint on. There was barely anything happening in classes because even the professors understood that people wouldn’t be paying attention.

Your phone buzzes and you open it.

Kookie💙: if you go to my locker you’ll find a present there. I’ll see you this evening. ILY❤️

You make a U-turn from the front of the library and head to the locker room because can you say no to Jeongguk- never. Ever since you’ve been with Jeongguk the sports department has been extra nice about you going to the locker room even if it’s empty.

You skip happily to Jeongguk’s spot and find a black box waiting for you. Your heart starts beating fast in anticipation. As you close in, you realize it’s actually bigger than you thought it would be which makes you even more eager.

Unable to contain your curiosity you open the box and find something you had not been expecting with a small note attached to it.

You know you’re my lucky charm right? Wear this to the game this evening and I promise I’ll win it for you.

Yours, Kookie

>>>>>>>>>

The whole football field and the bleachers surrounding the field fill up thirty minutes before the kickoff. The team hasn’t arrived on the field and it’s only the cheerleaders doing their thing.

The moment you enter the field all eyes fall on you and whispers reach your ear.

“Isn’t that JK’s girlfriend?”

“Never thought they would get together”

“I am so jealous of her” someone whines and it automatically makes your heart swell with pride— everyone wants him but you got him.

There’s more but you tune it out because you find Hoseok waving at you. You skip down the steps and sit down next to him.

“Did the school spirit vomit all over you?” his nose scrunches when he takes in your appearance— wearing the football jersey with Jeongguk’s name and his number ‘9’ decorating your back and the number ‘9’ painted in white on your cheeks.

You clear your throat. “He left it as a present for me”

“He’s fucking whipped” Hoseok shakes his head as takes a sip of his beer.

“You made it happen so blame yourself” you nudge him teasingly.

The game begins and the whole time your eyes only follow Jeongguk. He almost gets knocked over by one of the players on the other team. But thank the heavens that Jimin is on the team because he manages to tackle the guy before Jeongguk gets thrown down. Your heart after that moment doesn’t stop thumping like it’s lost its ability to calm down.

Jeongguk is a great quarterback. He’s so good at it that you feel your chest swelling with pride on the inside every time he’s shown on the jumbotron on the opposite side of the field from you. So this is what it’s like to be his girlfriend.

The game comes to an end without anyone getting injured and your boyfriend makes it back to you in one piece.

“Yay!” he runs towards you after the game ends and you’re waiting for him outside the locker room. “You wore it”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I wore it”

“It looks good on you. Actually on second thought-- you look hot. Can we go home?”

You slap him on the shoulder. “Shut up. Let’s go eat. I’ll buy since you won and since you played so so so well. I am so proud of you”

“I don’t want food. I want you-- the best dessert ever” he winks.

“You’re disgusting Jeon Jeongguk” you shake your head and slap him on the shoulder.

“Fine” he grins as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. “Only because you’re buying, girlfriend” he kisses the side of your head as you both begin walking.

>>>>>>>>

{2 weeks later}

Jeon Jeongguk is a lot of things, but a patient man is not of those things. Eager to announce your exclusive relationship he ended up instead setting more obstacles in your way because now people were doubting your ability to write his profile. You are supposed to release it in 24 hours and still, you have nothing but a blank page staring back at you.

Of course, it doesn’t help that the updated relationship status Jeongguk tagged you in keeps getting more comments. Your phone keeps buzzing again and again and again which only strengthens your resolve to throw it against a wall. You sigh for the millionth time as you bang your head gently against your closed laptop which is sitting in your lap.

Jeongguk turns to look at you, a look of worry crossing his face. The next time you lower your head you end up hitting his hand as it floats mid air between your face and your poor laptop.

You look at him and groan. “Kookie, I am so stressed out”

He abandons his lax posture against the couch and turns to you, folding one leg under the other and then holding both your hands in his. “Remember that time when I was whining about not wanting to be the captain”

You nod.

“What did you tell me?” he asks with a soft smile

“I told you that things that are worth it take effort and time”

“Exactly. You’ve worked so hard on this. I’ve seen you. I was there every time” he opens his arms and you quickly snuggle against him wrapping your arms around his back. He rests his cheek against the top of your head as he tightens his arms around you. “You can do it”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you mumble as you play with the fabric of his shirt.

“Because I love you dumdum” he kisses the top of your head.

“Fine” you pull away and reach for your laptop, dragging it towards yourself while Jeongguk’s arm rests behind you on the sofa and he goes back to watching the game.

You take one look at him-- the way the lights cast shadows on his face, the way his brows are knitted together in concentration as he chews his nails. That is when you know exactly what to say.

> > > > > > >

“Y/N!” you hear Hoseok yelling as he runs into the office. “Holy shit, did you see it?” he looks at you with wide eyes-- enough to make it seem like they’ll pop out any second.

“See what?” your brows crinkle in confusion.

“Oh my god, you have to” he quickly opens up your laptop, turns it towards himself and enters the college website. He navigates to the media page where your profile about Jeongguk is posted titled: Jeon Jeongguk: The Story Untold.

“What is it?” you are very concerned because it is either very good or very bad. You hope its the former not because you care about yourself but because it's Jeongguk. You don’t want his story to receive negative comments and that too because of you-- because of someone he loves.

“It’s doing better than Josh’s profile” Hoseok turns the laptop towards you.

Your mouth opens in surprise and Hoseok watches your reaction with anticipation.There are more than thirty-thousand comments which is crazy because there aren’t even that many students in the college.

“It’s spread beyond the college”

“It's what?” you ogle at him stupidly, unable to control your surprise.

“Yeah! People have shared it on social media. The college is making rounds everywhere. Jeon Jeongguk is the talk of the town right now. Because of you!” he laughs excitedly

You blink profusely unable to comprehend what he’s saying because how can that be when twenty four hours ago you were whining to your boyfriend about it? “I- I- I don’t know what to say”

“Honey!” Hoseok yells out of excitement. “You just wrote the best profile the college has seen in a long while. You have outdone yourself. This isn’t the time for talking, this is a time for celebrating!” Hoseok is smiling so bright and wide that you can’t help but smile as well.

“Holy shit” you giggle as you get up from your chair and hug Hoseok.

He spins you around in his arms further making you giggle.

The door flings open with a thud making you and Hoseok break the hug and turn towards the sound.

“Y/n” Jeongguk stands by the door with the widest grin on his face.

With quick long strides, he walks towards you and captures your lips in a kiss, without saying a single word. All he does is kiss you, and kiss you more, and then some more. You both pull away and you find Jeongguk is positively beaming. Your heart swells with happiness upon seeing him happy.

He cups your cheeks, grin still plastered to his face. “Thank you, my baby doll” he pecks you again.

“What’s going on?”

“Look” he takes out his phone and shows it to you.

It’s an email from a scouting agent which states that one of the teams at the state level is interested in meeting with Jeongguk.

“Oh my god Kookie” your mouth remains agape in surprise. “Holy shit”

“It’s all because of your profile. They saw it, called me and said they are interested”

“That’s amazing!”

You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, lifts you and spins you around in his arms. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so freaking much y/n” he mumbles against your shoulder as he spins you round and round until you both start to feel a little dizzy. He gently sets you down and without unlocking his arms around you.

“I am happy for you” you smile.

“I could kiss you all day long. That’s how happy I am and it’s ten times better because you made it happen” his bright expression softens as he looks into your eyes. “Thank you again”

“It’s all you Kookie. You worked hard. I just told people your story” you stand on your toes and lay a gentle kiss on his nose which makes him scrunch it as he softly chuckles.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a very very very long time” he kisses your forehead in return and wraps you in a bear hug.

“And you are the best decision I have ever made” you wrap your arms around him, feeling everything all at once-- just like every time he is around you. You don’t think these fuzzy feelings will ever fade in Jeongguk’s presence even fifty years down the road when you’re both too old to jump in each others arms. You don’t think you’ll love anyone else like you love him.

And he wouldn’t give his heart away the same way to anyone the way he’s given it to you-- absolutely, completely, utterly and hopelessly.

Just as you are busy hugging the life out of each other, Hoseok clears his throat to draw your attention to him.

“Forgetting about me already?” he pouts.

You and Jeongguk pull away and chuckle. You run up to Hoseok and tackle him in a hug because if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be with Jeongguk. If he hadn’t pushed you to do the profile you would have missed out on the best thing in your life.

“Alright” Jeongguk interjects and he pulls you and Hoseok away. “That’s enough”

You shake your head at your crazy boyfriend.

As soon as you are out of Hoseok’s embrace, Jeongguk pulls you in a hug by tugging at your arm and wrapping it around his back. You rest your head against the crook of his neck and he rests his cheek against the top of your head and gently sways back and forth.

“Thanks for loving me” he mumbles in that soft gentle voice that always gets to you. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“Thanks for teaching me how to love you” you tighten your hold around his waist and give a squeeze. Because had it not been for his kindness, his will to work hard, his gentle presence you would never have known the real Jeon Jeongguk. You would have missed out on the best thing in your life. “I love you”

“I love you more” he lays a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he sways you back and forth in his arms.

End

________________

A/N: Many thank you’s to you if you go to the end. It’s the longest thing I have ever written in my life and it took a lot of hardwork. So please show this fic love by either clicking that heart or reblogging. Thank you so much for reading it! I would love to know your thoughts as always so please do not hesitate to reach out ❤️

#bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts reactions #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #bts enemies to lovers #football player!jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

Text

A Hurt Bird - Part 1: Sprained Ankles and Ice Cream

Words count: 2569

Summary: You find out just how broken the local hero really is. It's a good thing you don't mind fixing wings.

Notes: Hey there! This work was beta'd by @foxam-vampire. Thank you friend! Now, some more notes! I'm avoiding gendered terms on this, bc I wanted as many people as possible to be able to enjoy it. If that needs to change at any given time, I'll let you know in the notes. There will be at least one nsfw chapter in this. I'll try my best to split it in a way that will make it easy for you to skip over it if you don't want to read that kind of stuff. This fic mostly consists of random one-shots that are very much connected. It may grow forever or stop soon, depending on how much I feel the need to update it. Also, this will mostly consist on the reader caring for Dick instead of the other way around, although that may happen too. If there's something you'd like to see in this, feel free to leave it in the comments or head over to my tumblr and leave me an ask!I hope you enjoy this!

It was about three in the morning when you heard a loud sound coming from your window. Normally, those sounds wouldn’t trouble you, seen as you lived on the last floor of an old, relatively small residential building. Disoriented birds would crash into windows every now and again, but it was nothing to worry about. However, considering that most birds should be asleep by now, and that the sound came from the fire escape window, you got a little worried.

In your recently-awoken, adrenaline-filled mind, picking up a broom for protection and investigating the noise instead of calling the police and locking yourself up in the bathroom seemed like a very good idea, so you did just that. As you got closer, you heard annoyed mumbles.

“Stupid lose brick.” A man’s voice said “Fucking fell like an idiot, Jesus Christ. I feel like a damn teenager again.” He hisses, seemingly in pain. You held your breath for a second. He grumbled something you couldn’t quite get, sitting on the floor.

Suddenly, you pushed the window open and swatted at him with the broom, causing him to scream in surprise and you in fear.

“Wait, wait, stop!” He said, trying to evade your hits and yell louder than you “I’m not here to rob you!”

“Y-you’re not?” You stop, finally taking a better look at the stranger “Wait. Are you...”

“Nightwing, yeah.” He smiles. There was a cut in his lower lip and a little bit of blood tainting his teeth “Sorry for disturbing you, I’ll be on my wa-Ah!” He attempts to get up, hissing in pain as he tries to support his weight on his right leg.

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, it happens a lot.” He jokes in a strangled voice, holding on to the metal handrail.

“Come in, I’ll get you some ice.” You say, giving him some space.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.” He waved you off.

“Yeah, but I want to.” You shoot back “Besides, I hit you with a broom several times, so I’ll feel really bad if you don’t let me help.”

“You really shouldn’t be inviting strange men into your house in the middle of the night.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not just a strange man.” You argued, tilting your head from side to side lightly “You’re our hero.”

“But you don’t know me.” He lets his head drop down a little, cocky smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m helping you. Like you help us. Let me, okay?” You motioned for him to come in “I have ice, and water, and food.” He stares at you hesitantly “C’mon.” You say, a little impatient.

“Alright then, if you insist.” He caved in, accepting your help to climb into the house. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and supported him, holding him by his waist, walking with him to the couch.

“You’re – ugh – heavier than you look.” You grunt. He huffed a laugh.

“Maybe you’re just weaker than you think you are.”

“I just woke up, give me a break.” You roll your eyes, setting him down on your old couch “Besides, you are thin, but you’re also a mountain of muscles. That makes you heavy.”

“My friends can carry me.” He teases.

“Are your friends heroes too?” You ask, taking the ice tray out of the freezer and cracking the cubes into a towel.

“Touché.” He laughs.

You kneeled down, bringing the ice with you, and slowly attempting to remove his boots.

“You don’t have to.” He says, trying to reach down. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Let me.” You stared at his eyes, or at least tried to; they are being covered by the mask, making it impossible for you to see the color under that abnormal white screen blocking them.

“They’ll smell bad.”

“Yeah, it’s a thing that happens with feet.” You shoot back, rolling your eyes “I’m used to it, don’t worry. My friend used to sprain her ankle a lot while running. Now shut up, sit back, and let me help, okay?” Nightwing seemed a little taken aback by that, cheeks assuming a light pink hue as he leaned back against the couch, slowly.

His ankle was swollen, but it still hadn’t turned purple. You delicately pressed the ice against his skin, and noticed how he grimaced.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He answers “There’s no way of doing this without a bit of pain anyways. You’re very gentle.”

“That’s good to hear.” You smile, pressing your lips together as you stare at his injured foot “So, uhm, what about your mouth?”

“My mouth?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You look up “There’s blood on your teeth.” He brought his hand to his lips slowly “You... Do know that there’s blood on your teeth, right?”

“Yeah.” He answers, staring at the blood on the tips of his gloved fingers “Yeah, sure. I did know that. I was... aware. Of the blood, that is. I did know of blood on my teeth.”

“You had no clue, did you?”

“I had no clue.” He whispers, lowering his head.

“But didn’t you... I don’t know, can’t you taste it?” You ask.

“I can. It’s just that it lingers for quite a while, to be honest. I thought it had stopped, but apparently there’s another cut on my mouth, or maybe a loose tooth.” His tongue searched around a little “Yup, found it.” He says, words kind of mumbled because of the position his tongue was in “Definitely a loose tooth.” He grimaces “Man, those suck.”

“Uhm... Do you want some ice, maybe? I have more.”

“I...” He ponders on it for a moment “Yeah, actually. If it’s not too much trouble.” He places a hand at the right side of his cheek “It’s starting to hurt more now that I’m aware of it.”

You nod, trying to balance the ice pack on top of his ankle.

“Leave it.” He says “Can I put my feet on your couch?”

“Sure.” You got up as he turned to the side, stretching his left leg out and pulling the right one a little closer so he could hold the ice pack in place.

You picked the other ice tray and repeated the process, filling both of the trays and placing them in the freezer before going back to the hero. You handed Nightwing the ice pack and went back to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. When you came back again, he pulled his left leg closer, giving you space on the couch.

“Thank you.” He says after emptying the glass.

“No problem.” You smile “Give it here.” You used two fingers to ask for the ice pack back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.”

“C’mon. It’s better for your leg to be stretched out.” You insist, tapping your thighs.

“You’re very stubborn, aren’t you?” He teases.

“Yes, I am, now give me the damn ice pack, hero.” You stretch out your hand. He placed the wet towel-ice pack in your hand and his feet on your lap “Was that so hard?” You tease. He stuck out his tongue.

“Very.”

“Awn, you poor thing.” You sarcastically add “Being made to suffer by a civilian tending to your battle wounds.” He chuckles.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” You shrug “You saved my life.”

“Did I?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. A while ago, when that shooter walked into the subway station? I was there.” You look down at his feet again as you nervously bite the inside of your lips “I was scared shitless. And then you came in, swinging through the stairs, and knocked him out so fast.” You swallow “So yeah. Thank you for that.”

“I was just doing my job.” He smiles, face leaning into the ice pack pressed against his cheek.

“I guess.” You whisper. He nods “You don’t normally get too much help, do you?”

“Not so much.” He purses his lips “Working and living alone have their downsides.”

“Yeah...” You look at him for a moment.

The hero seemed more battered and bruised than you ever thought he could be. Before tonight, you couldn’t even be sure that he was human, but now, watching him talk and walk (well, limp), he barely seemed like a masked vigilante. He looked like a lonely guy. Before you realized it, your thumb was drawing slow circles on his clothed leg. You weren’t even sure if he could feel them under the material, but the way that he stared at your fingers made you believe he could.

“Okay, uhm, would you like something to eat?” You offer “I have some chinese food that I ordered earlier, but I don’t know if your mouth is in a chewing mood.” He laughs again.

“Yeah, I don’t think my mouth is in a chewing mood.” He smiles “It’s okay.”

“Well, I do have ice cream. If you want any.”

“Really?” His face seems to light up a little “What flavor?”

“Chocolate. Want some?”

“Uuuh, yes, please!” He smiles, removing his legs so you could get up from the couch “Listen, I don’t want to sound like a child, but, do you have any sprinkles? I really like them.”

“Sadly, no. I don’t really like sprinkles. But I do have caramel syrup.”

“Caramel syrup with chocolate ice cream?” He makes a weird face.

“It’s good!” You try to defend yourself.

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Look, you can try some of mine, and if you like it I’ll put it on yours, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright then, wait here.” You went to the kitchen yet again, looking for cute bowls to put the ice cream in, unfortunately realizing you only had one old, glass bowl, sometimes used for soup “Well, shit.” You murmur in embarrassment, picking up your wide coffee mug for yourself and the bowl for him. You took both of them and the syrup to the living room “Here.” You hand it to him, sitting down again.

“Thanks!” He grins, watching as you poured the caramel on your mug “You’re eating it out of a mug?”

“I don’t have any other bowls.” You murmur, ashamed.

“Oh, I see.” He says, looking at your lowered face “Hey, that’s fine. I mean, I have only one mug and three spoons at my place.” You chuckle a bit.

“So we’re both broke loners, huh?” You ask, handing him the mug “Here, try it.”

He took it, picking some up with his spoon.

“Hum, that’s good.” He hands it back to you “And yeah, guess so.”

“Told you.” You pass him the bottle, letting him pour as much as he wants in his ice cream “So, uhm, what will you do about the tooth?”

“I’ll try to see my dentist tomorrow.” He answers.

“Isn’t it a bit suspicious? I mean, I imagine this happens a lot.”

“Well, I usually say it happened while I was practicing my acrobatics.”

“So you’re an acrobat?” You raise your eyebrows.

“I thought that much was obvious. You know, with all the spins and impressive sky stuff.” He smirks. You giggle and nod “Awn, that’s a pretty laugh.”

“Oh, shut up.” You blush, staring at his feet again.

“I wasn’t teasing you. You do have a pretty laugh.”

“Thanks. You have a pretty laugh too. And your feet don’t smell thaaaat bad.” You tease, causing him to snort.

“Okay then. I suppose that is one of the most sincere compliments I’ve ever been given.” Both of you laugh for a while, before finishing your ice creams in silence.

You set your mug down, noticing how the ice had melted almost entirely, leaving a very soaked towel on his foot. When you motioned to leave, you noticed him trying to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to take these to the kitchen. It’s all melted now.”

He pouts.

“But I like you here.”

“I’ll come back, Nightwing.” You laugh.

“Alright.” He lifts his legs.

“Is there ice left on the one in your cheek?”

“This one is alright.” He replies “Thanks.”

“No worries.” You rush out, putting the bowl and the mug in the sink, along with the wet towel, before coming back “See? I’m here.” You lift your hands, showing off playfully.

“That’s nice.” He turns around as you settle on the couch, catching you off guard as he places his head on your lap “Hi.” He grinned, white teeth showing.

“Ooookay...” You said, a little startled, but smiling. You placed your hand on his head, playing with his hair.

“Hmm, yeah. That’s great.” He closed his eyes, sighting “You must be an angel. So kind, so helpful... Gives the best head scratches...”

You huffed out a laugh.

“Well, I’m glad you like them, you needy boy.”

“Hey! I’m an attention-seeking whore, and a man, get it right angel.” He smiles.

“Makes sense.” You raise your eyebrows, watching him melt under your touch, breathing deeply “Listen, if you want to crash here for the night, that’s okay.”

“Oh. No.” He says “I should go.” He gets up, and the sudden lack of warmth scares you a little.

“I wasn’t kicking you out or...” You turn on the couch, facing him.

“No, I know!” He smiles extending his hands “I just shouldn’t take advantage of your kindness.” Nightwing looked down, hands behind his back.

“You’re not taking advantage of anything, hero.” You support the weight of your head on your elbow.

“Really?” He asks, a little cynical “What do you get from all of this?”

“It’s not about what I get.” You roll your eyes “It’s about what I’m willing to give.” He raises an eyebrow “You help people, right? People like me, my friends, my family... So you should get it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You help because you can. Because you know you can’t keep waiting for something magical to happen and eradicate all human suffering from the earth. You can save people, so you do. Right now, I can help you, so,” You shrugged “I do.”

“Yeah, alright.” He scratches the back at his neck “Still, I feel like I’m acting a little too...” He gestures towards your lap “Friendly.”

“That’s not a problem.” You chuckle a little, and he does too. You bite your lower lip “You sure you don’t want to spend the night here? The couch turns into a bed, and it’s more comfortable than it looks.”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiles at you “But thanks for the offer.” He stands up “I can already walk again, so I’ll be on my way.”

You followed him to the fire escape, watching as he picked up his grapple gun.

“So, uhm, listen...” You start, hugging yourself to try and keep the cold wind out “When it gets too hard... you know, being a loner. You can come here again. If you want to.” He looked at you for a moment, and his features seemed to soften as you spoke “You don’t have to care for your wounds by yourself, if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” He smiles “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Nightwing leaped from the metal staircase towards the ground, before surging up, holding on to the grapple gun, swinging his body forward and falling again, then going up, and down, and up, until he was too far to be seen.

(Hey! If you made it this far, consider rebbloging? It’d make me very happy :) )

Thank you for reading! <3

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing/reader #batman bingo #fanfic #fanfiction

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

day 3 of @alexmanesappreciation: legacy but I took a lot of liberties (also a follow up to the fic i wrote for day 2)

warning: memory loss, teenager-esque jealousy, mentions of Caulfield & 2x12

ao3

Alex knew he must've misunderstood something whenever Maria got there.

Michael caught her by the hand before she could run up to Alex and he pulled her to the side to have a word. But Alex wasn't stupid. He saw the way he touched her and the way she touched him and how close they stood while speaking to one another. It made him more uncomfortable than the fact he was standing half naked and letting Kyle and Liz prod at his body like he was a science experiment. Maybe he was.

Alex watched them until they finished their conversation. Michael squeezed her hand before letting go and she nodded simply. Maria turned to him with a big, cautious smile and came closer. With permission from Liz to touch him, she wrapped him up in her arms. He wanted to be happy to see her, but he couldn't take his eyes off Michael. What were they keeping from him?

"I'm so glad you're okay, I was worried sick," Maria said sincerely, squeezing him. Alex hugged her back easily and tried to stop looking at Michael. Just because he'd lost 10 years of his memory and it was super important to find out who and why didn't mean they could leave out massive plot points like Maria and Michael touching each other like that. But if they left it out and Michael kissed him, maybe he was looking into it too much. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sore," Alex answered. His whole face was throbbing and it hurt to use his crutches because of the bruising on his ribs.

But Kyle got Isobel Evans of all people to stop by his house and get something they called an iwalk. It fit around his not-leg and was sort of a substitute for a prosthetic so he could stand up without irritating his leg more. He hated it.

"I bet," Maria said, "But you still look hot despite all the bruises, so take it as a win."

"Yeah, I will," he said, eyes going back to Michael who was standing over her shoulder, "Can I put my clothes back on now?"

"Oh, yeah, of course, sorry," Liz said, rambling as she had been, "I just need to take a blood sample, but you can have your clothes on for that."

Michael came over to him then as if it was his job to help him get dressed. He grabbed the pair of sweats and the t-shirt he’d brought for him so he didn’t have to put back on the ones he’d been wearing the whole time he’d been allegedly kidnapped. Alex carefully sat down on the stool and started unlatching his thigh from the iwalk thing. Michael’s hands instinctively went to help.

“Stop it,” Alex said, catching his chin in his hand and pulling him into a kiss. Michael smiled into it and so Alex dragged it on as long as he was allowed, deepening it without concern for who might see since everyone could see. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t peek to see if Maria saw. And she clearly had because she looked away.

“Whoa, okay,” Michael laughed, pulling away. His cheeks were red and Alex was obsessed. It made all the bad things happening a little bit better. “Let’s get you dressed, huh?”

They took the straps off his thigh and Alex used Michael as leverage to pull the sweats over his hips. He pulled the shirt on carefully and slowly due to his face and ribs while Michael tied off the hanging end of the sweats. The whole process took, like, five whole minutes. So long that Alex had to pull him back in for a kiss when they were done.

“Alright, we get it,” Liz laughed, nudging Michael out of the way. Alex reluctantly let him out of his grasp. “After I take a blood sample, do you want painkillers?”

Alex felt himself relax a little at the offer. “You have some?”

“Yeah, do you need them?”

“I would prefer them,” he admitted. It was easy to push aside his discomfort when Michael was kissing and touching him. But he couldn’t have that forever and he was still hurting. Hell, he couldn’t even see out of one of his eyes.

“Okay, let me take a sample so I can start getting to work and figuring out how to fix this,” Liz said, wiping down a spot on his arm with an alcohol pad. He’d had so many of those on him in the last hour that he was surprised he wasn’t getting drunk through his skin.

“Didn’t you say someone else had this stuff in them too? Didn’t you try to find a cure for it then?” Alex asked. Liz looked up at him, face a little grim.

“Well, with Cam, we didn’t really know who or what to expect to find in her memories. She had a much weaker dose and it only erased what she saw when she was taken. She wasn’t exactly super excited to remember those weeks,” Liz explained, trying to force a kind smile, “You know, it’s a little weird seeing 29-year-old Alex’s face, but with 19-year-old Alex’s voice and eyes.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked just as she pushed a needle into his arm. He didn’t even wince.

“You look older, but... you carry yourself a bit lighter when you were young,” Liz explained, “Before everything.”

It was a small suggestion, but it had Alex’s mind reeling. Before everything? Was she insinuating things got worse? Or maybe she didn’t know about the shed. Maybe she had no idea what she was talking about.

Alex looked to Michael for some type of elaboration, but his eyes involuntarily went for his hand. It was all wrapped beneath a bandana, but it hid... nothing. He jumped at the sight of that, frantically looking up to Michael’s face.

“Whoa, stay still,” Liz said, “Still drawing blood.”

“What happened to your hand? I-It looks fine. I don’t understand,” Alex said, panic building in him again. Maybe this wasn’t just a weird time-jump, maybe he was in a different universe all together. “Wait, did... did my dad still...”

He didn’t know how to ask the question. And, apparently, no one knew how to answer.

The air got heavy and everyone around them stilled while Liz slowly pulled the needle out of his arm and replaced it with a band-aid. Alex’s eyes were stuck on Michael who shifted uncomfortably at the topic.

“Yeah, that still happened,” Michael said softly, clearing his throat as he looked to Liz, “I was thinking that maybe they took him to erase all of the shit he knew to make him less of a threat.”

Everyone noticed the drastic subject change, but didn’t address it. Alex, however, wasn’t as easily subdued. He wanted to know. He opened his mouth again, but he was cut off by Kyle handing him a couple pills and a water bottle. After he took that, he was again cut off by Michael stepping in close. Alex took his hand since clearly he wasn’t going to get much in the way of an explanation.

He ran his fingertips over the unscarred skin while his adult friends talked around him.

“But what’s the point of that? I mean, he obviously already had an attachment to you,” Isobel chimed in. Alex made that even more obvious by resting his head against Michael’s chest. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear their conversation. How was his hand so smooth again? How had he gone so long without noticing?

“Maybe they were trying to go further and failed,” Michael suggested, “Or maybe they just wanted to erase the alien thing to try and warp his position.”

Before Alex could even ask what the hell he was talking about, his mind blurred.

“Do you want to know who I am, or do you wanna know what I am?”

“Yes.”

Alex gasped and clutched Michael’s hand, looking up at him with wide eyes. Michael looked at him in concern and they just stared for a few minutes. Alex could feel that familiar buzz under his skin, contentment of being with him mixing with that tumultuous fire of arguing with him. Because apparently they did that a lot... they argued.

“What? What happened?” Michael asked, his hand laying on Alex’s neck and using his thumb to hold his chin up. Alex looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“My dad was the reason I know,” Alex murmured, “He told me. I’m not gonna sway on my stance no matter when I find out.”

Michael stared at him for a moment, eyes flickering over his face as he tried to process what he said. Then he pressed a kiss to his forehead and Alex let himself relax back into Michael. He hated this, hated not remembering everything. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Something about him made it easy to make him not remember. Trauma really was a bitch.

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the goal,” Michael said, “Maybe they were just trying to take out our biggest threat.”

“But then why would they give him back? And why would they drop him off at your place?” Kyle asked.

“Well, he was asleep when I got there. Maybe he still had his memories and he escaped and my place was the closest, but the drug activated whenever he passed out,” Michael suggested, his hand rubbing up and down Alex’s back.

“Do you really think he’d be able to escape on his own after getting beat up that bad?” Maria asked. Michael huffed a small laugh.

“Yeah. Especially if he still had his memories.”

They kept talking, kept brainstorming, and Alex kept feeling more and more exhausted. The painkillers dulled his nerves enough for him to focus on the fact that he needed sleep and trying to remember more than one offhanded conversation and the vague context of it was making him suffer even more. He turned the good side of his face into Michael’s chest and closed his eyes. He felt safe there.

“So, what, we think he got taken and his memory erased to fuck up his role in dismantling a legacy? Wouldn’t they have taken me too?” Kyle asked.

“No offense, but you haven’t exactly been hands on lately,” Liz said as kindly as possible. Kyle scoffed. “But from what I can tell, it’s definitely Butyricol. Same grimy little cells lurking in his blood.”

“Gross.”

“Absolutely. But I’m thinking if I can extract it I can work with it enough to see if I can make something that, you know, brings back memories, sort of like a human-equivalent to the alien antidote I made. Otherwise we’re stuck with him getting maybe one or two every once in awhile,” Liz said.

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Michael asked, one hand still rubbing his back and the other cupping the back of his head. Alex was more at peace than he’d been in awhile despite the fact they were all talking about him.

“Long enough for you to let him take a nap, but not so long you should leave and risk running into more trouble,” Liz told him. Michael nodded.

“Okay, then we’re just gonna go lay in Kyle’s car.”

“No fucking in my car.”

“Obviously.”

Alex reluctantly sat up and grabbed his crutches. He hated this whole missing leg thing. He wanted his memories back if only so he could be used to it again. If that version of him was used to it. Would he ever be?

He gave an extra look to his friends. Liz and Kyle were already getting to work. Maria gave him a kind smile. Isobel was... there. And Michael was watching him, ready to catch him if he needed it.

It was a slow and irritating process making it over the messy halls and desert terrain to get to the car, but they eventually found themselves cuddled up in the backseat of the car. Alex basically laid on top of Michael, trying to get some sleep. But he couldn’t, not quite. Not until he asked the question bothering him the most.

“We’re not together, are we?” he whispered. Michael was quiet for a little while, his thumb never stopping the smooth circles he rubbed into his shoulder.

“No,” he answered, “We’re not.”

“You’re with Maria,” Alex filled in, “I saw the way you guys touched each other.”

Michael took a deep, slow breath and it made Alex rise with him. He just waited for an explanation of how Maria, if she really was his girlfriend, was letting him be so hands on with Alex. Of course, Alex wasn’t mad about it. He missed Michael. Both with and without his memories.

“We’re... over. We were sort of in the middle of a breakup before you showed back up because I spent the last week ignoring her and tearing the world apart trying to find you,” Michael said, “She wasn’t mad that I was looking for you or anything, I guess it just finally clicked that... It doesn’t matter, we agreed we’d talk later, but right now it’s all about making sure you’re safe and comfortable.”

Alex lifted his head a little to look at his eyes. He was gorgeous. Sadder and rougher than Alex remembered, but gorgeous.

“But you still like me?” Alex wondered. Michael huffed a small laugh, his hand carefully combing through his hair.

“Alex,” he said, his eyes flicking around his face. Alex noticed the moment he decided on what he wanted to say and he said it with confidence. “I love you.”

Alex’s mouth felt dry and his not-swollen eye widened. Love. That was new.

Again, before Alex could find his words, his mind blurred again.

“They’re my family, Alex!”

“Alright, maybe! But you are mine!”

Alex came back with another gasp, trying to ground himself again as Michael stared at him. The two second memory flooded him with residual gratitude that he was here. He was alive. He was his.

“I don’t look away, Guerin,” Alex told him. Slowly, a smile showed on his face and it might’ve been the most beautiful think Alex had ever seen.

“Was that just one memory, or...” Michael said, a hopeful little tinge to his voice. Alex hated to let him down, but he nodded.

“Just one,” he whispered. Michael’s smile didn’t fade any as he nodded.

“Then I want you to know I loved you then and I love you now. When you remember all the bullshit I’ve done to you, remember that I loved you through it all. I never stopped, okay? If they erased your memory to fuck with your place in your family’s legacy, than I’m gonna go ahead and use it to fuck with ours too. We were meant to be together and to be happy. I know that for a fact and I know people died to make it so. So, I’m saying it now. I have always and will always love you, Alex Manes,” Michael told him.

Something akin to giddy laughter bubbled out of Alex at the words he was hearing, his whole system flushed with love and appreciation. He knew once he got his memories back, he’d probably feel different. From the way Michael was speaking, he knew he would feel different.

But right now he felt like he was on top of the world.

“I love you too,” Alex said, moving up to kiss him, “And I’m really upset we agreed not to fuck in Kyle’s car.” Michael laughed.

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m 19 and sleeping with a guy in Kyle Valenti’s car sounds like the best kind of revenge.”

Michael laughed again, pressing another kiss to his lips as he said, “Yeah, well, your body isn’t 19 and 29-year-old you might have a problem with me letting you get bent like that when you probably haven’t done your PT in over a week.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Bent? That sounds like a challenge.”

“Go to sleep,” Michael told him, still grinning as he led Alex’s head to the crook of his neck, “I know you feel good right now, but this is just the beginning to a whole slew of bullshit that’ll come whenever we figure out who took you and what happened over the last week.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but agreed. It was hard to sleep with the adrenaline pumping through his system at Michael’s I love you, but eventually his fatigue caught up with him.

Later, he woke up to Liz excitedly telling him that she was sure she found a way to reverse it. They injected him with it and they waited.

It didn’t happen immediately. In fact, they had to deal with a lot of stuff before he really got those memories back. They had to deal with his father, namely, and Crashcon. It was difficult trying to act like he knew what all these people had become and trying to assimilate just a little bit at a time. Even with Michael it was hard. There were pieces missing that made things different.

It all came to a head, though, when Alex found himself staring at his brother standing between his father’s gun and Michael Guerin.

“I know what he means to Alex.”

And suddenly Alex did too.

(ps if you want a fic where they actually bang in kyle’s car, check out @prouvaireafterdark‘s fic here because what am i if not slowly becoming a lynne fanpage)

#alexweek2020 #alexappreciation2020 #malex fic #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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slowlydrowningme · 5 years ago

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But My Makeup’s Ruined

Anon asked: Do you think you could do an angst that’s dick grayson x fem reader where he cheats on the reader with kori? I love your sm au so much ❤️❤️❤️ I typically like longer stuff but write as much as you want if you even wanna write it. No pressure 🥰🥰

Rating: T (Mostly for Jason’s potty mouth)

Word Count: 2688

Warnings: Panic attack, partner caught cheating, Dick gets punched, references to a nondescript bad past (I’m just being careful, I’d really not like to trigger anyone)

Pairing: Dick x Fem!reader (though it’s mostly Jason in the story with her, but not in any way romantic)

Notes: This took on a life of its own and kind of went into a little bit of a personal experience for me. It was almost cathartic to write, so thanks for that anon. I didn’t go into graphic detail about the cheating or the panic attack itself, but they are mentioned. Hope you enjoy!

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How did you get here? How did you find yourself in this position? You were supposed to be stronger than this. You were supposed to have learned from past mistakes. Yet here you were, soaking from the evening rain with a hand pressed against the slick brick of a random shop in an alley just within the limits of the Diamond District, on the verge of a panic attack.

“Y/N?”

Shaking your head, you ignore the almost robotic voice you could hear just above you and keep your focus on not passing out instead.

“Shit, Y/N. What happened? Are you hurt?” Because of course there was no other logical reason you would be in the position you were currently in.

You felt his body heat before you even realized he had come down from whatever perch point he had found himself above you head. The familiar pair of black, steel toed boots came into your line of sight and you took a number of deep breaths before even considering looking up.

“Hey, you-“ His words cut off when he caught sight of your face. You knew your eyes would be bloodshot from the tears that blended perfectly with the rain falling from the sky. But there would definitely be no hiding the absolute misery in your eyes and even someone as emotionally stunted and repressed as Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, would be able to read it.

“Fuck.” You furrowed your brow at his reaction, his shoulders dropping and though you couldn’t see his face behind the hood, you knew he was probably frowning. “You know.” And your blood ran cold.

“You knew?!” You wanted to scream it, but your throat is tight from crying and hoarse from the cold night air.

“Come on, I’ve got a safehouse the next block over. We need to get you out of the rain.”

You want to fight him, but you just don’t have the energy in you after fighting off the earlier panic attack. So you let him pick you up bridal style and carry you through the shadows to his safehouse. The only thing you can do is wrap your arms around his neck when he lifts you up. And nothing could stop you from burrowing your face into his neck to hide from the constant downpour.

Your mind must shut down in the relative comfort you find because the next thing you know, Jason’s setting you down on the gray couch and draping a blanket around your shoulders before he removes the hood. You look up at him, blinking through the water droplets still falling from your hair, and take in the emotion on his face. Perhaps not as emotionally stunted as he led everyone to believe.

“I’ll make some tea and get you a towel for your hair. I have some clothes here that might not completely fall off your frame, if you want to change?” Not sure you’d be able to say anything without having another breakdown, you simply nod your head and watch him walk into the small kitchen to the left of you and fill a kettle to put on the stovetop.

You trace his movements to the bathroom and wait until he emerges with a couple of towels in hand before he moves onto the bedroom and slips in there for a few minutes. When he comes back out, he’s out of his Hood gear and in a pair of black sweats and a gray Henley. He’s got the towels and what looks to be a pair of sweats and a shirt for you.

“You think you can get changed on your own?” Nodding again, you eased the blanket off your shoulders and stood on shaky legs before reaching for the offered items. His hands linger on the back of yours while you hold the small pile in your palms. “Y/N…”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you rasp out instead of letting him go wherever he had planned to go with that, slipping past him to the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Leaning against the only thing separating you from facing what you had seen tonight, you take a few deep breaths and wait to hear the sounds of Jason in the kitchen taking care of the tea.

Once you can her the noise he makes, you get to work stripping out of your cold, wet clothes and drying your hair and body off as much as possible. Once you’re as good as you’re going to get, you tug on the sweats, which fit well enough, and the long sleeved shirt that is probably two sizes too big. Not sure what to do with your wet clothes, you fold them neatly and place them on one of the towels, leaving them on the counter. Taking the second towel out with you, you continue to try and pat the water out of your hair as you walk back into the room.

Even though you know he heard you come out, Jason keeps his focus on the phone in his hand as he types out something.

“How do you take your Earl Gray?” He asks suddenly, finally lifting his green eyes to look over at you as you approach him in the kitchen. You wait for him to set down his phone before you answer.

“Lemon,” you tell him and he nods, smiling as he fixes up your mug before handing it over to you and taking the towel in exchange. Without prompting, you move back over to the couch and wrap yourself back up in the blanket. Leaning back into the comfort of the surprisingly comfy couch, you pull your legs up under you and hold onto the mug with both hands but don’t bother drinking just yet.

Jason approaches silently, as everyone in his family always did, and sits on the coffee table in front of you with his own mug deposited onto the surface next to him. You can see the question before he even asks it and it hurts just as much as you knew it would.

“How did you find out?” You keep your eyes locked on his, trying to draw a little strength to replay the events of tonight in your mind.

“A failed attempt at a early homecoming.” Travel was something that happened a lot with your job as the personal assistant of the current Mayor. You had been at his side for the past three years and every time he set foot outside of Gotham, you were there. Recently there had been a lot of those trips.

This particular trip was supposed to be another two days but some hard work on your part had allowed everyone to return home early. So you had planned on surprising Dick by heading to his place the instant you had dropped your bags off at your Midtown flat. That had been a mistake.

“Does he know you know?”

“The black eye is telling enough.” You don’t react to the snort of laughter that Jason releases, nodding his head. There’s pride shinning in his eyes. He had been the one to teach you how to throw a right hook and was well aware of how good you had gotten at landing a punch. “She didn’t know about me?”

“Maybe not at first. I don’t think it started intentionally. But…I hate to say it, Y/N…”

“I’m going to need to talk to him.” He nodded sadly. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.” You could feel the tears building back up, dropping your gaze from his with a shake of your head, staring at the mug in your hands.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re the strongest of all of us,” he says honestly, so much faith. Reaching forward, he takes the mug out of your hands and sets it down next to his own before grabbing one of your hands and holding on tightly. “You’ve been through so much more than this. He’s just a man. He’s my brother and I love him, but he’s a fucking fool.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to call him, okay? The sooner you talk to him, the sooner you can start to move forward.”

“Not tonight, Jay. I…I just…” Raising your gaze back up to look at him, you let the tears spill over and let your eyes say what you can’t with your words. And you can read his own pain in his eyes as he accepts your truth. Without a word, he moves to sit next to you on the couch and gathers you up in his arms. And the battle with your heartbreak is lost, allowing yourself to give into the sobs that had consumed you back in that alley Jason had found you in.

You’re not sure how long he holds you as you cry. Time becomes something obsolete right then and you just give into the base need to unleash the pain. Eventually you find yourself drifting off, tucked into his side with his arms wrapped tightly around you while he murmurs nonsensical words to you. It’s all a haze by the time he lifts you up for the second time of the night and carries you into the bedroom.

You try to protest against him giving up his bed for you, but he shushes you and lays next to you until you’ve fallen asleep.

You wake with the sun the next morning, the space next to you on the bed empty like you knew it would be. Your head feels just as heavy as your heart and you spend a few minutes just blinking at the light coming through the window. The oranges and pinks that slowly take over the sky should fill you with a warmth, but you just feel empty.

It’s not until you hear the sound of voices beyond the closed door, too muted for you to know what is being said or by whom, that you sit up and scrub at your face with both hands. You know you probably look like a wreck, but you figure you’ve also earned the right. Smoothing out your hair as much as you can so you at least don’t look like an absolute disaster, you take a deep breath to steel yourself for going out and facing the world.

Slipping off the bed, you wrap your arms around your middle and head to the door, peeking your head out to see Jason in the kitchen and a very familiar back standing in front of him. It makes your heart hurt even more to know how easily you know him from just the lines of his shoulders. Casting your eyes back to Jason, you can see his eyes are pinched with anger and his under eyes dark with exhaustion. That twists your stomach further into knots, knowing you brought this on him.

Even if he was the one to find you last night.

“Fuck, Jay, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“But it did, Dick. You made a choice and now there’s a fucking broken hearted woman in my bed and I just want to punch you in the face to give you a matching black eye.” You know the instant he spots you standing in the doorway, his shoulders tensing even more and the worry filtering into those green orbs. You can tell Dick notices by the straightening of his back before he turns to look over his shoulder.

“Y/N…” He turns to fully face you and you can’t help but tighten your arms around your middle and clench your jaw. The image of him and Kory kissing in his kitchen burn through your mind as if they had just happened moments ago and the pain is just as intense. His hands on her hips, pulling her body flush against his own, and hers on his face, as if worried he’d pull away too soon.

When he takes a step toward you, you can’t stop yourself from taking one back and shaking your head. He doesn’t hide the pained look on his face, but he holds his hands up in understanding and doesn’t come any closer.

Looking away from Dick, you look over to Jason who hasn’t moved but is watching you closely. Without any prompting, he moves around his brother and comes to stand in front of you.

“He called last night asking if I had heard anything from you and I told him I found you. He just showed up a few minutes ago. I can tell him to fuck off.” Glancing back at Dick for a second before looking back to Jason again, you chew on your lower lip before answering.

“He’s already here. Just…can you stay nearby?”

“You got it.” He reached up and squeezed your shoulder before looking back at his brother with a look you couldn’t quite see, but it was enough to make Dick look ashamed, before he moved into the bedroom you had just abandoned.

Silently, you moved closer to Dick but stopped when there was still about five or so feet between you. Close enough to speak quietly, but far enough away that he couldn’t touch you unless he moved forward.

“How long?” It was a question you had wanted to ask Jason last night, but then you had broken down and hadn’t gotten the chance to ask anything.

“Two months.” You aren’t sure if you felt better knowing it was fairly recent in terms of your two and a half year relationship.

“Did she know?”

“Not in the beginning. The first time we kissed…I hadn’t seen her in years and she almost died and I just…” Clenching your jaw, you make a visible effort not the say something nasty. “It only happened two other times, besides last night. But just the one time was enough, and I’m so sorry Y/N. There’s no excuse for what I did, I know that.”

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you two just going to continue to keep fucking me over?” There was the anger. It was only a matter of time before the pain settled into it.

“I don’t know.” Letting out a humorless laugh, you tilted your head back and closed your eyes. “I wish it hadn’t happened and god, Y/N, I wish I had been loyal enough to stop myself. I don’t want to lose you in my life. I love you so much, you have to know that.”

“Obviously just not as much as you love Kori.” You looked back over at him and found him with his chin dropped to his chest and both his hands gripping his hair.

“She’s my drug. She always has been.”

Blue eyes crashed back into yours and you could see the guilt and sadness, but you could also see the truth.

“You were never mine.”

“I wanted to be. I wanted to be all yours.”

“But part of you will always be hers. And even if it had only been that one kiss, I could never be with someone who couldn’t be mine completely,” you whisper, feeling that all too familiar burn of tears.

“You deserve more than that. But I was selfish, and I wanted you. I wanted what you made me feel and I wanted to try and give you my whole heart.” You could see tears building in his eyes as a tear of your own slipped over.

“You should go.”

“Y/N…” Shaking your head, you took a step back and sucked in a deep breath.

“There’s nothing else to say, Dick. I just needed to hear you admit that you were never mine the way I was yours. I’ll come by your place tomorrow to get my stuff and leave my key, please don’t be there.” He could only nod before turning and walking to the front door. “I’ll always love you Dick, but please don’t contact me. And just please, don’t do this to anyone else.”

He doesn’t say anything in return before opening the door and heading out, closing it softly behind him. You don’t say anything as the door behind you opens back up and Jason comes up behind you, a warm line of body head at your back.

It’s not until he presses a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you into his chest that you finally let out the sob you hadn’t wanted Dick to see. He didn’t deserve to see you at you most broken. Not when he had caused it.

“You’ll be okay, Y/N,” were the only words Jason muttered that you could decipher. But they were enough. It fucking hurt right then, but you’d survived worse. You would survive this.

#batman #batman au #batfam #batfam au #filled request #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #ani writes stuff #red hood #nightwing #koriand'r #dickory

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iridescentjin · 5 years ago

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Forgive Me

Summary: After Yoongi embrasses you at a party, he has to make up for it at home, and you invite Taehyung to help you out.

Genre: Smut

Warnings: threesome, unprotected sex, choking, humiliation and degradation, oral (m. receiving), cumplay, creampie, dom!reader, sub!yoongi, sub!taehyung

a/n: Here is the first of my drabble game requests. I wrote a really long one though, so I didn’t do it as an ask reply. This is, once again, from a friend, so I asked her if this was cool with her since she didn’t put a member. She’s cool with it, so we are carrying on. Anyway, you all have to hurt with me because holy shit, subby Tae and Yoongi got me feeling some type of way.

Word Count: 2992

You bite your lip as you walk into the dark house, thinking of all the ways that you are going to punish Yoongi for his behavior at the work party that the two of you just left. He walks into the house behind you, sulking but looking deadly in that suit.

The company you work for had thrown a party tonight, so you had forced Yoongi to get dressed up nice and go with you. When you’d gotten there, he had refused to make small talk with anyone. He ate his food then sat at the table on his phone. When you pulled him aside and asked him what was going on, he had said, “All of these people are boring and fake, and I don’t really want to talk to them. I said I’d come. I never said I’d socialize.”

You make a face at him to show him how angry and frustrated you are. You would have rather he just stay home than be a jerk to your coworkers, but you also know he probably did this on purpose to try to get out of having to do it again. You leaned into his ear and whispered, “I’m going to punish you when we get home for your abhorrent behavior. I hope you’re ready.”

You nip his ear lobe with your teeth as you pull away, and you walk off to continue making the rounds at the party. He’d watched you with dark eyes for the rest of the night, seemingly studying your demeanor, trying to figure out what you were going to do to him.

Now, standing in the living room in your long navy blue dress, you already have a plan formed in your head. When Yoongi comes into the room, he looks at your quizzically.

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, “my naughty boy, sit on the couch.”

Without a word, he goes and sits on the couch. He folds his hands in his lap and leans back against the backrest. You get your laptop from the other room and bring it back, setting it on the coffee table in front of him. Before you tell him your plan, you utter, “I texted Taehyung. He’ll be here soon.”

His eyes dart to you, and you hear his breath hitch in his chest. He would never admit it, but you knew that nights with Taehyung drove him crazy. You open the laptop and pull up the browser. You type in the address for a porn website and pull up a video of three men having sex together. Before you hit play, you turn to him, holding his gaze. “Take off all your clothes, right now.”

He obeys, but he’s moving slowly with each of the buttons on his shirt, taking his time peeling them off. He clearly thinks that if he flusters you, it won’t be as bad for him. You, however, are irritated enough about the party to just roll your eyes at his movements.

As soon as he’s sitting on the couch naked, you sit down next to him, still fully clothed. “I want you to watch this video and tell me everything about it that turns you on. I’ll know if you’re lying. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t take your eyes off the screen. Do you know your safe word?”

“Notorious.” There is no affectation in his voice. He fixes his gaze on the screen as the men on the screen start kissing, and you see his dick starting to stir between his legs.

“Yoongi,” you scold.

“Sorry. It turns me on the way they’re kissing each other like they actually have feelings for each other.” He keeps watching and keeps reporting, as his dick starts standing to attention in his lap. His breathing is quickening, and his hands are tightening their grip on the couch on either side of him. He says, “I like the way that his dick looks in that bigger man’s hand,” as the door opens.

Taehyung looks only slightly surprised at the sight before him. You stand up and throw your arms around him. He leans into your ear and says, “Can I play?”

You smirk at him and start undressing him, unbuttoning his shirt and letting your hands rest on his belt. He drops his boxer briefs then sits on the couch when you push him back. You whisper the rules in his ear. He runs his hands down his thighs before he rests them to the side on the couch. You sit down between the two men, looking back and forth between them.

With the two of them getting hard, reporting everything in the video that turns them on, you feel the heat pooling between your legs. You take your fingernails and trace them up from Yoongi’s knee to his upper thigh. You dip your hand down to rub his inner thigh, still not touching him where he wants it most. He whimpers, and his eyes dart to where your hand is. You furrow your brow at him. “Eyes on the screen.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You move your hands over to Tae’s leg, tracing the same patterns, dropping your hand to his inner thigh. He squirms a little in his seat, but he keeps his eyes on the screen. He licks his lips and points to the screen as he says, “I am turned on by the way his lips look around his dick.”

When the video ends, they are both fully hard, and you love looking at them, naked and pliant for you. You stand up in front of them, towering over them because you are in heels while they’re sitting.

“Yoongi, I want you to get on your knees and apologize to me. You embarrassed me at that party tonight.”

He shifts off the couch and onto the floor, never standing (good boy). He crawls over to you and looks up at you, his eyes wide with lust.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you, and I should have just said I didn’t want to go. Instead I was petty, and I was embarrassing. Please forgive me.”

You trace your thumb across his upper lip and down over his lower lip. You push your thumb into his mouth, and he immediately closes his lips around it and sucks. You pop your finger out of his mouth and bring it to your mouth. You lick his saliva off your thumb before bringing your hand back to his head.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he’s so sweet that you almost want to forgive him, pull him to his feet, and let him fuck you. Instead, you keep your fingers in his hair, and you pull hard. He takes a sharp intake of air and moans while you pull it. You run your fingers down his face, putting your thumb and index finger on either side of his chin, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t ever do that again,” you say through your teeth to try to stop the arousal pulsing through you from seeping into your voice.

“I won’t. Never.” His breathing is heavy and uneven as you continue holding his face in place. You drop down and squat on his level, keeping your hand in place. You take your other hand and bring your nails to the delicate skin on his chest.

“You say you love me.” You dig your nail into his skin drawing the first side, “But you were not very nice to me tonight.” You finish tracing the shape of a heart on his chest. You take all four nails to the side of his chest wherein lies his actual heart. “But is this heart actually beating for me, Min Yoongi?”

As your fingers scratch down his skin, he moans out. You hear a whimper from the couch, and Taehyung is leaning forward from his place to watch you with the older man. “Yes, of course it is. It’s only for you.”

You make a little mhm sound in the back of your throat as you release his chin and pull away from him completely. You saunter over to where Tae sits on the couch. You caress his cheek, and he leans into your touch. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you, Tae?”

He nods and looks up at you, his gorgeous face looking particularly innocent in this moment. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby.”

“Choke me. Please.” You don’t usually let anyone get away with trying to call the shots, but you are making a point to Yoongi. You slide your fingers down the smooth skin of Tae’s face and down his throat. You curl your fingers around his neck and squeeze gently. He looks up at you with desperate eyes and runs his tongue across his bottom lip. You squeeze a little harder, and he whimpers under your touch. “I bet Yoongi wishes he got to call the shots like this too, but he was a bad boy. Not like you. You’re my good boy.”

You release his neck and walk away from both of them. Beckoning them to follow you as you turn the corner into the hallway to your room. They follow, and you turn on the red colored light that you have in the corner. “Taehyungie, you said that seeing that man’s lips around the other’s cock turns you on, right?”

“Yes,” he barely utters.

“Okay, Yoongi, why don’t you get on your knees and show Tae how good that can look in real life?”

Yoongi’s eyes shoot to you. You are usually the focal point of the sex that you have with Tae and Yoongi, so he isn’t used to you asking him to do stuff to or for Taehyung. He pauses for a moment before he drops to his knees in front of the younger man. He wraps his hand around the base of Tae’s dick and licks up the length of it. He swirls his tongue around the head and down the shaft. He looks at you one more time before he sinks his mouth down around Taehyung’s cock.

Tae whimpers, “Hyung,” before dragging his hands into Yoongi’s hair, scratching at Yoongi’s scalp. Yoongi is working quickly up and down the length of Tae’s cock, and you can feel yourself soaking completely through your panties. The way that they look together is sinful.

“I’m g-gonna…” Tae moans. Yoongi looks up at you, as if asking if he should keep going. You shake your head, and he pops off Tae’s dick, spit running down his chin. He stays on the floor on his knees. Tae leans down and puts one of his hands on the bed and moans. “Please, noona. Let me cum. I’ve been so good.”

“I’ve been so unfair to you, haven’t I, my good boy?” You run your fingers through his hair. Pressing your body against his. The warmth from his body radiates through the fabric of your dress, and it brings the heat between your legs even more than before.

“Will you help me with this zipper, Taehyungie?” You turn your back to him and sweep your hair of your neck. He runs his fingers over the sensitive skin on the back of your neck, tracing the collar of the dress. He pulls the zipper down, and when it’s undone, he pushes the straps down with the palms of his hands, running them across your shoulders and down your arms. You let the dress fall to the floor pooling around your shoes.

You stand before the two men in only your underwear, nipples hard in the chilly air. You bend and remove the shoes from your feet. You let Tae pull down your underwear and you step out of them. “Yoongi,” you start, “I want you to watch Taehyung fuck me.”

He nods, pushes off his knees, and stands at the end of the bed, a few feet away from you and Taehyung. You sit on the edge of the bed and pull Tae toward you as you spread your legs. “Tae, are you going to be a good boy and fuck me?”

He nods and takes his rigid cock in his hand. He pushes himself against your folds, letting the length slide through the slickness. You shudder at the sensation of the head of his cock caressing your clit, but you bite back a whimper. He lines himself up with your entrances and pushes into you.

You keep your eyes on Yoongi as Tae slowly fucks into you. You bring your fingers up to your nipple and tweak gently while holding eye contact with Yoongi. You moan as Tae’s dick drags against all the sensitive parts in you, and his pelvis is rubbing against your clit as he leans over you.

“Yoongi,” you whimper, “come here.”

He comes over, and you guide his head to your breast. He gets the message and rolls his tongue over the hard bud. He takes into into his mouth and he moans into your skin. Between your legs, Tae’s thrusts are losing rhythm and becoming erratic. You are close to coming, so you grab Yoongi’s hand and shove it between you and Tae. He roughly puts pressure against your clit, rubbing steady circles while his mouth moves to your other nipple.

You cum with a shout, Yoongi pulls away, and Tae leans down, pressing his chest into yours. He moans into your neck, and you feel him release inside of you. He fills you completely with his cum, and when he starts coming down, his lips follow a path down your throat, kissing you down between your breasts.

You take Yoongi’s hand and pull him closer. “My naughty boy, I want you to fuck Tae’s cum into me. I wanna see your cock coated in his cum.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate, and he positions himself between your legs. You pull your legs even wider open, and you can see him looking at the way that Tae’s cum is dripping out of you. He takes his thumb and traces over your entrance with it, coating it in your arousal and Tae’s cum. He examines it. He’s taking too long, so you reach out, grab his thumb and suck it clean. He groans and lines himself up with your entrance.

He pushes into you slowly, but he slides right in because of your arousal and Tae’s release. He sets a fast pace, fucking hard and deep into you. You know he gets frustrated when you punish him, but you can’t help but want to tease him more.

“Wait, Yoongi, stop,” you utter, trying to control your breathing.

He stops, fury in his eyes. You slide him out of you and you drop to your knees in front of him. “I just wanna taste.”

In front of you, held in his hand, Yoongi’s dick is glistening with Tae’s and your cum. You wrap your lips around his member, and you moan at the salty sweet taste that hits your tongue. You can taste yourself and Tae and even Yoongi’s precum. You pump up and down slowly, moaning as you slide your lips across his member.

Yoongi brings his hand into your hair, and he pushes himself deeper into your mouth. You gag around him and slap his hand away. He growls in his chest, and you pull off of him. Stepping away from him, you look at him with a devlish grin. Taehyung, who has been lying on the bed, lifts his head. “Tae, my good boy, do you want to let me ride your face, since Yoongi seems unable to control himself?”

He sits up enthusiastically, eager to please you. “Yes, Noona. I want to taste you and I mixed together. I want it on my tongue.”

“Please,” you hear faintly from behind you.

“What was that?” You turn and look at Yoongi.

“Please. Please. Please fuck me, y/n. I’ve been waiting so long. I did everything you said. Please. I’ll be good. I’ve been good. I made one mistake. Please.” He’s rambling, and he looks like he’s going to cry. Yoongi very rarely begs, and when he does, it’s because you’ve told him to. Your lust is uncontrollable at the sight of him swallowing his pride in front of you.

“Taehyung, I’m going to let Yoongi fuck me now. Do you want to watch?”

He nods eagerly, and you lie back on the bed. Yoongi’s eyes are raking over your face, and his expression shows that he thinks you might change your mind any second. He doens’t give you the chance. He slides into you, and he is pumping hard and faster. He’s fucking every emotion that he’s feeling into you. The heart still drawn on his chest shows as a faint red mark in his skin. Looking at your marks on his skin, you feel yourself fall of the edge. You cum around his cock, clenching around him.

His hips stutter as you are coming down from your orgasm. “Cum for me, Yoongi,” you whisper.

He doesn’t have to be told twice, and he cums hard inside of you, moaning your name over and over. He puts his lips on your neck and sucks on the skin as shot after shot paints your walls. Finally, he collapses on top of you, breathing heavily.

You shift underneath him and position yourself between the two men. You scoot pillows under their hands and wrap your arms around them, pulling them into your chest. Tae lets out a sleepy moan and curls up into your side.

Yoongi turns to you and looks up into your face. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

You push his hair off his forehead. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you say as you nestle your face into his hair. The three of you fall asleep together like that.

#smutcentralnet #minthlynet #btswritingcafe #taehyung x reader x yoongi #taegi x reader #taegi #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts fanfic

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #383

“the big bully try to stick his finger in my chest / try to tell me, tell me he’s the best / i don’t really give a good goddamn ‘cuz i got my lunchbox & i’m armed real well”

Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Well yeah. Most of my friends are online, and while I've seen pictures of most at least once or twice, some I still haven't. The last time you threw up, what caused it? It was a side effect of a mood stabilizer I started. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something, idk. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Yes. Have you ever had a stalker? No. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? It makes me self-conscious way more than anything. I start to obsess over whether or not the person things poorly or weirdly of me for liking what I like. I just feel judged for liking it, but that's my problem. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? I do, actually. It feels kinda affectionate to me. Do you often find yourself checking out people’s butts? Haha I'm not gonna say it's never happened, but it's not something I make a habit out of for sure. What fandoms are you in? MEERKAT MANOR IS BACK BAYBEEEE, Markiplier, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, Spyro, Wings of Fire, and lots more, honestly. I'm into a lot of stuff, and I don't love in moderation, haha. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? Yeah, like Supernatural, Good Mythical Morning, or Warriors, but it wasn't out of "I don't like it anymore" or anything, I just drifted away. Anything the fans in your fandoms do that pisses you off? World of Warcraft if particular has one of the most toxic fucking fanbases. There are so many goddamn elitists and people who whine about "boohoo WoW is dying" and "omg this game has been trash since Wrath" and yada yada yada and it's annoying as hell. They always find some shit to complain about. Then Silent Hill... ugh. I think people just hop onto the "the series sux after 1-4" bandwagon to fit in with a certain crowd, but that's not the main thing that annoys me; rather, it's the fact the former main admin of the SH wiki made a fucking joke out of us there. He was clearly having personal issues and made a HUGE and utterly ridiculous deal of Silent Hill 4 having heavy symbolism to the main character being obsessed with the bullshit idea of him being circumcised, and it led to a maaaassive thread of us members trying to talk some damn sense into him as he abused his power. He was finally banned by the Wikia staff, but not in time for some gaming websites to publish "news" stories about it because it was just that ludicrous. Now, YEARS later, we still get trolls coming onto the site to try and revive the drama by inserting absolute rubbish into pages or making new ones. Nowadays I'm the main administrator there, and it's fucking embarrassing sometimes. I'm supposed to keep the wiki under control and respected, you know? Ugh, I'll stop. I could rant for a very long time about this. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffly. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don’t cook. What color do you want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, lilac, and a light creamsicle orange. I REALLY want to dye it SOMETHING. :( How do you like your chicken? Of course breaded (like nuggets, tenders) is my favorite, but I also enjoy is broiled and seasoned well. There's other ways, but because I don't cook, I, uh... don't know how a lot are made lmao. Do you enjoy cheese fries? UUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH YES. Do you eat refried beans? I absolutely hate beans, so no. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? A whole lot because a lot of it is from restaurants and we don't eat out all that much. As well, my diet is very narrow just because of how picky I am. Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn? Why? I mean, what are we comparing them for? I think Audrey is fucking gorgeous, though. Marilyn is also beautiful. Favorite fictional world? Uh, I dunno. Do you use lint rollers often? No. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I think so. Other than a dislike button, what’s something you wish Facebook had? Hm, I dunno. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Mom can't work right now, but I think Dad gets off around 5PM. Are you afraid to ask people out on dates? Yep. Do you think it’s better to look for love or let it find you? Both can work, but I definitely prefer to let it find me. I feel that *in general* that usually has better results. Have you ever found yourself worrying about commitment? No. I'm a very committed person romantically. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? No. Have you ever had a rash from poison ivy? I don't believe so, no. Do you have any chairs in your bedroom? No. Did you watch Elmo as a child? Some, yeah. Do you know anyone who doesn’t eat meat? I don't think so, off the top of my head. When you throw up, do you cry? No, but I'm a whiner and will also shake from fear because I have such a phobia of vomiting. Doing it totally turns me into a baby. Who was the last person to carry you? I couldn't tell you the last person to full-on carry me, but back when I tore a ligament in my foot, my mom kinda had me lifted when she would help me walk. Is it easy for you to accept loss? Absolutely not. I handle it very, very poorly. Have you done anything sneaky lately? No. Have you ever had a rolling back pack? Yes. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom, probably. Would you ever want to go to Brazil? Sure, if the opportunity came up. Are there any medical conditions that run in your family? A lot, mostly heart problems. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica imo. Who is the biggest jerk you've ever met? She was somehow my former best friend. Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never been in that situation, thankfully. What's a charity you would never donate to? I'm really not familiar enough with charities and their practices to know which ones are sketch or not. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you have any exes you'd consider dating again? Yes. What were some of your favorite classes you took in high school? Art and German. Mythology was fun, too. Do you know anyone with a profession in law? Yeah, I have a cousin that's a lawyer. Have you ever Googled yourself? Yeah, outta curiosity. What's the shortest amount of time you've had between relationships? Like, two days. Part of the reason I left Girt was because I liked Sara. As a child, what comfort foods did your parents make for you when you were sick with a cold or flu? Chicken noodle soup. What's a movie series where the sequel was better than the original? Ha, for some reason Inspector Gadget came to mind. I guess from mentioning my childhood. I was FUCKING OBSESSED with that movie as a kid. The first one's fine, but I love the second one. Does your car have heated seats? Mom's doesn't. What is the strangest pizza topping you've ever eaten? Nothing strange, really. Describe your hometown. What’s it like there? Small and dangerous. Lots of run-down areas. A gang nearly broke into our house once, if that helps you get the picture. What was the last video game you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 forever ago. What did you learn from your last failed relationship? It really just taught me that you need to take care of your own mental health before you can effectively handle another's properly and strike a healthy balance. What country does your favorite band hail from? Britain. What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Finish decorating my room. -_- Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Good Mythical Morning, I suppose. I used to be OB-SESSED. I still adore Rhett and Link as people, they are fucking wonderful human beings and excellent entertainers, I just drifted away from their content. I don't really know why. Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? No. What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? Menstrual cycles, I'd say. It affects your mood so much, and as someone who's bipolar, it can be very confusing. I like to know why I'm feeling a certain way. What movie has the best special effects? /shrug How many work hours per week is too much for you? I wouldn't know, I've never really worked long enough to figure this out. Can you remember your first day of school? I think I have the faintest memory of it. I know I was very scared to leave my mom (I had absolutely awful separation anxiety from her) and I MIGHT have cried, but I don't really recall with certainty. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No thanks. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Most, no, because the level of cringe is LITERALLY unbearable for me. Do you have a safe? Mom does somewhere. What’s the scariest thing to happen to you so far? The breakup. That night was just fucking terrifying. I was so certain my life was over, like the situation was so, so impossible in my head. What was your last dream about? (or your daydream if you don’t remember) My memory's faint, but I just remember I had a nightmare where a LOT of my bones were totally snapped in half. When was the last time you saw a relative? Excluding my immediate family, I last saw my now-departed grandmother and my uncle a while back at a hotel as they were passing through. Have you ever been in a TV audience? No. Are you in any way close to reaching a personal goal? Not really... Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Do you like making collages? Not really. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? No. What would you love to learn to do? Digital art, like drawing on a tablet. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Lemurs. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot, 100%. Are you more shy in real life or on the internet? I am WAY more shy irl.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''lunchbox'' by marilyn manson

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

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Absolute Truths

This idea wormed its way into my head and for the life of me I couldn’t get it out.

This oneshot is a little longer than the stuff I usually write (a whopping 8539 words), but I loved every minute of it. I tried editing it to the best of my ability, but honestly I suck at that. No beta, we die like Glenn. #SorryNotSorry #TooSoon ?

Please note this is non canon. The time frame for this is sometime after the Battle of Gronder post time skip and it is a mash up of the GD and BL routes (ie. Dimitri joins Claude and is no longer crazy; Rodrigue still dies. RIP).

Cross posted to ao3.

Pairing: Sylvain x Felix

Warnings: mentions of child abuse and PTSD

Synopsis:

When Felix and Sylvain get hit with a dark magic spell that reverts them back to children, the Resistance Army gets a deeper look into their bond and learn 5 absolute truths that form the foundation of their relationship.

5 undeniable facts of Sylvain and Felix’s relationship.

Word Count: 8539

“Felix!”

Fuck. Sylvain loses sight of him for only a minute but that is all the enemy needs to overwhelm the already bombarded swordmaster.

Pulling the reigns sharply to the left, the Paladin charges across the battlefield, skewering any unfortunate enemies that dare block his way, the lance of ruin glowing like a beacon of fury despite the thick coating of blood on it. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and dark magic, making it hard to breathe and blurring the red head’s vision. Regardless, Sylvain presses on; determined to get to his best friend in time before the group of mages over the hill finish casting… whatever ominous looking spell they are aiming at Felix.

“Sylvain, get out of here!” Felix shouts angrily, not even pausing his fighting to face the sight of Bella charging her way through the throng with her master astride her.

Shit. Felix cuts down another enemy.

It is never ending. No matter how many falls to his blade, another two enemies take their place. Felix isn’t stupid – he can see the group of mages prepping a dark magic spell in the distance, which makes him even angrier when he spots Sylvain riding to his aid.

Like hell he’ll give his childhood friend another reason to toss himself into harms way. Felix isn’t weak. He doesn’t need protection. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Sylvain to be the one who gets hurt trying to fix his mistakes just because he got a little too cocky and split from the rest of his battalion.

“Fuck.” Felix grunts and pushes his sword hard to disengage the thief that has him in a sword lock. He doesn’t bother to see if he is being pursued and dashes towards Sylvain who is now dismounting a short distance away, Lance of Ruin making quick work of anyone who strays too close for comfort.

Sylvain was undoubtedly within hit range of the spell now. If that idiot insists on being his usual self-sacrificing self, then the least Felix can do is use his own body to shield the older man and take the brunt of the damage.

The tell-tale crackle of magic behind him sets the hair on his nape standing.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

He isn’t going to make it. Damn Sylvain for being so slow – this is exactly why he keeps telling him to take his training more seriously-!

“Fe!”

The last thing he knows before succumbing to the darkness is a hard chest plate knocking the wind out of him and warm, strong arms that remind him of summers spent with a heart lighter than air.

----

1. Sylvain always has, and always will protect Felix until the day he dies.

Leonie is one of two on the first shift of babysitting duty.

Undeniably, the orange haired paladin would be the first to admit that she wasn’t the greatest with kids, however there is only so much the tiny, and thankfully unconscious, Fraldarius boy can do given his current predicament.

No one really knows what happened after the enemy spell envelops Felix and Sylvain, the larger of the two curled protectively around his companion as they fall. No one even knows what the spell is.

But what they do know is that now, instead of a regular sized Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Sylvain Jose Gautier, they have a chubby cheeked blue haired cherub and an unfairly-cute-even-as-a-child ginger.

It is in the middle of bemoaning her poor luck at drawing straws when the mini-Felix begins to stir and she feels panic clawing its way up her throat.

“Ngghh…” small, unscarred hands balled into fist come up to rub at bleary amber eyes before they widen almost comically as they take in his surroundings.

“Uhh… hey.” His gaze snaps towards Leonie and she can feel her terror rising with mini Felix’s hysteria, clearly evident by the shiny glaze beginning to cloud his eyes and the fat crocodile tears gathering at the edges of his almond eyes.

“It’s okay, Felix. It’s just me.” She reaches out a hand tentatively in a placating gesture, but quickly withdraws back as young Felix lets out a squeak and scurries as far back into the corner of the bed as he can get, taking his older self’s wool Fraldarius crest blanket with him, as if it could shield him.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” The poor thing is absolutely terrified and damn it, Leonie wants to comfort him, but she is equally as distressed here and this is exactly why she didn’t want to babysit.

“It’s me, Leonie. You don’t… you don’t recognize me?”

It comes out sounding more like a statement than a question.

It’s so painfully obvious that little Felix has no idea who she is.

Which means he doesn’t have his memories.

Which means they are down two of their best generals.

Which means they are well and truly fucked.

So, Leonie does the only thing she can logically think to do.

“Come on,” She says, rising from her bedside chair and reaching for his arm. “We need to go tell Linheartd that the situation is much worse than we had originally thought.” But as soon as her hand wraps around his forearm, Felix screams.

“Oh shi-! Felix! Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you!”

If anything, this just seems to have the opposite effect and the wails increase to near piercing.

Leonie thinks it may be a trick of her mind, and probably her ears because holy crap does little Felix have a set of lungs on him, but she is pretty sure that Felix is screaming out a name.

Specifically, a name belonging to a certain red head that is, the last time she checked anyways, unconscious two doors down from his room and currently being watched over by Caspar.

“Fe!” The door bursts open and suddenly there is chaos.

Was being watched over by Caspar, Leonie amends in her mind.

“Get back here!” The blue haired warrior lunges and swipes his arm out trying to catch mini Sylvain who is slipperier than a fish in water, using his short height to duck between legs and launch himself onto the bed.

“Leave Fe alone!” Honey brown eyes that are so very familiar yet also so different, are glaring holes into Leonie and Caspar, proudly defiant and blazing with determination. Short arms stuffed into the smallest adult shirt they could find on short notice stretch out protectively, completely shielding Felix from sight.

“S-Sylvain,” comes the little sob from behind him and the older boy spares a second to throw a comforting smile behind him. “Don’t worry, Fe. I’ll protect you.” And Goddess, he sounds so genuine and earnest that it makes Leonie wonder what happened to cause their Sylvain to hide behind fake laughs and charming lilts of the tongue.

“Sorry, Leonie.” Caspar is gasping for air like he has just run a marathon. “I tried to keep him in his room but as soon as he heard Felix screaming, he was out faster than I could blink.”

“Ugh. Just go get Ingrid and the Professor.”

----

2. Sylvain hates himself and his crest, but Felix likes him in spite of it.

A day later finds Ingrid watching over the five year old Felix (“What?! He’s five? But he’s so tiny.” “Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll cry again.”) and seven year old Sylvain.

“Just stay in this area, okay?” She calls out over the din of raucous laughter echoing throughout the courtyard. “I don’t want you two wandering off and getting into trouble.”

The play wrestling pauses for a brief moment and little Sylvain sticks out a tongue at her.

“We don’t get into trouble! You’re just a party pooper!”

“Yeah! Party pooper!”

Shoving down the urge to smack her childhood friends into the next moon, Ingrid settles for watching with pursed lips as Felix dissolves into giggles, Sylvain’s grabby hands finding purchase in his sides and tickling him relentlessly. The look of such carefree happiness on their faces makes her heart clench and eyes sting.

If Ingrid is being completely honest… she misses this.

She remembers what it was like not carrying around a broken heart for a man buried six feet under, his remains not even whole enough to bring home. Back when she could play wrestle with Fe, Sylvie, and Dima in the dirt and then go to Glenn to kiss her knee better when one of them inevitably accidentally activated their crest and used too much strength, resulting in tears and scrapes and bruises.

It doesn’t do her any good to dwell on the past.

The dead should be left to rest, and the living should move on.

For an emotionally constipated guy, Felix is dead on with his philosophy.

Though she has long come to terms with her betrothed’s death, the small sliver of envy she has for her two oldest friends still lingers in the deepest, darkest recesses of her heart.

They’re lucky that they still have each other, even though they spend half the time bickering and denying their feelings.

“Is that the Gautier boy?”

Two monastery staff members stop beneath the path archway and look with undisguised admiration.

“So handsome at such a young age!”

“And I hear he’s incredibly charming too.”

Ingrid knows that Sylvain and hear them. He has always been keen of hearing, especially when it involves others gossiping about himself, for better or for worse.

Felix takes advantage of Sylvain’s distraction to get the upper hand and rolls on top, completely oblivious to the onlookers.

“If I were his mother, I would have secured him a betrothed as soon as he was tested for a crest.”

A hum of agreement. “Yes. His family is blessed with good looks so it would not be hard to secure an advantageous match. The Gautier line will likely continue on stronger than ever with such a prized heir.”

“Sylvain? Why did you stop?”

Felix is all wide eyes and adorable pouty cheeks, staring confusedly down at his best friend underneath him who has gone strangely silent with a strangled expression.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

The two gossipmongers snap to attention at Ingrid’s sharp tone, her expression clearly telling them to get the hell out of here or risk facing her wrath.

With rushed replies of “yes, sorry miss!” and “our apologies”, they scurry off down the pathway and disappear around the corner.

But unfortunately, the damage is already done.

“Sylvain? What’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

Gently, the older boy extricates himself from Felix’s death grip of a grapple and stands up with his eyes cast downwards. “Sorry, Fe. I… I don’t want to play anymore.”

“What? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“I’m tired. I want to go back to our room.”

It only takes one look at Sylvain’s expression before Felix is latching his fists into the fabric of Sylvain’s pants with a scowl on his face.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Fe! I don’t want to play anymore.”

“We’re best friends aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, of course we are.”

“Best friends don’t lie to each other.”

Ingrid has patiently watched the exchange between Felix and Sylvain to this very moment, hoping that they can sort out this argument without her intervening like she always did as a child, but through years of experience, she can sense that one of them is about to snap and she would very much like to avoid that.

“You know the only reason we’re best friends is because our parents are friends and we both have crests.”

There it is.

It’s absolutely heart breaking how Sylvain has already learned to self destruct at the tender age of seven. If Miklan were still alive, Ingrid would skewer him a thousand times over for instilling the mantra of ‘you’re not worthy of love’ into Sylvain’s head.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go-“

“You’re a stupid head if that’s what you think.” Felix’s interruption shocks her. His usually bright amber eyes are fixed in a watery glare leveled at the boy opposite him. Right now, Ingrid may as well be invisible for all Felix cares.

“What?”

“You’re a stupid head!”

Sylvain looks absolutely affronted.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are!” a few tears have managed to slip beyond the barrier and trail down Felix’s cheeks. “I don’t care that our parents know each other. And I don’t care about any stupid crests.”

Felix marches up to Sylvain with all the anger he can muster in his five year old glory and reaches up to smoosh his cheeks together. “I’d still pick you to be my best friend in the whole wide world because you’re funny and nice and I’m always happier with you than Ingrid or Dima.”

Sylvain can only stand there with his lips parted in round ‘o’ from his cheeks being pushed together and a dazed look in his eye. Felix takes this as a sign to continue his little tirade.

“And I know you’re smart so you should stop being such a stupid head because I don’t care what you think. You’re my best friend and I’ll always pick you over any stupid crest.”

“Fe…”

She recognizes that tone. Ingrid looks away then because she fears that if she doesn’t, the part of her heart that belongs to Glenn might just twist its way into her throat and choke her with envy.

Sylvain is giving Felix that look that she has seen many times throughout their lives whenever she watches her two friends from afar. It’s one that everyone, except for Felix, has seen a million times and knows that to Sylvain, the world around him has fallen away except for one person.

“You’re my best friend, Sylvain. So, don’t lie to me.”

For the first time since the gossipers appeared, Sylvain lets a smile slip through.

“Okay. I promise.”

Felix eyes him warily and searches for any hint of a lie in Sylvain’s expression. Once satisfied, he loops his own pinky around the one outstretched to him.

“Good. Now let’s go play Knights and Bandits!”

Perhaps it is because Felix is always looking ahead that he never sees how Sylvain looks at him like he was the one who hung the stars and moon in his dark sky, illuminating his life with happiness and love.

----

3. Felix feels so much and Sylvain is the only one who understands him even without words.

A collective sigh echoes throughout the monastery when they find out that mini Felix and mini Sylvain aren’t too picky with their food.

Granted, even as a child, Felix shows a proclivity towards eating meat; but with a little friendly jostling from his best friend, even the youngest Fraldarius son can be convinced to eat his brussel sprouts.

Which is exactly why Claude is so baffled when Felix starts to protest eating during mealtimes.

“What do you mean he won’t eat?”

He’s well aware that he probably sounds like an idiot, if the exasperated look Lorenz is giving him is anything to go by; but they haven’t had any trouble before so it makes absolutely no sense that Felix would start being picky now.

“It’s exactly as I said,” Lorenz frowns. “We were all simply sitting together enjoying a meal, when Felix stopped eating and refused to finish his dinner. I’ve been told this is now the third occurrence in a row that his has happened.”

“Was he full?” Byleth pauses from looking through some supply requests to chime into their conversation. Although she has not outright said anything, Claude knows his love well enough to tell that she is stressed about their current predicament. Felix throwing a silent protest against food is just one more thing to add to her pile of worries that she doesn’t need.

“Don’t worry, Teach,” Claude winks and flashes his signature grin. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You just worry about securing our supplies for the next moon, yeah?” His chair lets out a deafening screech as it drags across the floor, drowning out any protests their former professor may have and providing Claude the distraction he needs to usher Lorenz out of the room with him.

“Claude, are you sure you know what you are doing?” The doubt rolling off Lorenz would have offended a lesser man, but Claude has spent his life being the underdog and he lets the words bounce harmlessly off him. “Felix is not an enemy to be outsmarted. He is simply a child who only adheres to emotion.”

“I am aware of that, yes.”

“Then why do you look as though you are about to hatch a scheme?”

Because he is.

And although Felix is not an ‘enemy’, per say, doesn’t mean that Claude can’t use his usual tactics of watching and observing his opponent until he has hatched a plot to take them down. Hence, leading to Claude’s current position tucked away in the far corner of the mess hall during the following breakfast.

Even on his off days, Claude is always watching and learning. He knows the favourite foods of all his fellow comrades in arms and he also knows whom everyone’s preferred companion is.

There is very little that escapes his notice, and the Resistance Army leader is confident that he will have a plan by sundown at the very least.

It is a little past 8am when the two children sleepily trudge their way into the dining hall with Bernadetta, their ward for the day, close behind them.

Nothing seems particularly strange or odd when they join the line to retrieve their meal; and nothing remarkable happens either when Bernie leads them to the only empty table left in the middle of the hall.

“Good morning, Bernadetta!” Raphael greets cheerily and shuffles his mountain of food over to join the trio at their table. “Good morning, Felix, Sylvain!”

The little ones mumble back a greeting, but their voices are lost in the din of the morning meal chatter.

So far, so good. Felix is still eating his porridge (albeit with an adorable frown on his face) and talking animatedly about goddess knows what with Sylvain, who occasionally turns to answer a question from the adults.

“Oh, good morning, Bernadetta, Felix, Sylvain!”

Slowly but surely, the table begins to fill as their friends meander into the building in search of food to start their day. Greetings are exchanged and unsurprisingly, Felix and Sylvain garner a lot of attention due to their current forms. Sylvain, ever the chatterbox that he is, fields most of the questions; Whether it is because he is being considerate of his quieter friend or if he simply relishes in the attention is debatable, but Claude cannot help but notice how his eyes constantly dart back towards Felix who grows increasingly frustrated.

“Oh, you’re just too adorable!” Annette’s squeal of delight reaches even Claude’s remote corner and he assumes that the wince he sees from Felix is due to the sheer volume of the orange haired mage. Sylvain, the current object of attention, just flashes her his prize winning smile; his dimples making him look even more endearing than he already is.

The adults gathered around the children don’t even notice that Felix has stopped eating. Nor do they see Sylvain quietly reach below the table to grab Felix’s smaller hand in what looks to be a gesture of comfort.

In fact, it takes another five minutes of cooing and fawning before Raphael, of all people, notices that Felix is now glaring with teary eyes at his bowl of half eaten porridge.

“What’s wrong, little buddy? Not feeling well?”

Immediately the attention shifts to him and the effects are just as disastrous as Claude predicts.

“I’m not hungry.” Some of the porridge finds its way onto the table as Felix pushes his bowl away with such ferocity, Claude is half surprised it doesn’t completely tip over.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry?” Annette frowns. “This is the fourth time you’ve left a meal unfinished. Are you not feeling well? Do you need to go see Mercedes?”

“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Felix? We just want to make sure you’re not getting sick.”

“I’m fine.”

It’s a big fat lie and anyone with half a brain can hear the distress and frustration in the blue haired boy’s voice. One lone tear manages to squeeze its way out of Felix’s water logged eyes and that’s all it takes for the table to burst into a flurry.

Claude almost feels bad for Felix as the adults descend on him like a pack of vultures, all of them crowding him and trying to coax the reason for his distress out of him. The Almyran prince has half a mind to go over and rescue his friend in arms from a situation that is probably in his top ten worst fears, but before he can even get out of his seat, Sylvain is already bounding out of his chair with a teary Felix in tow.

Sylvain shouts something about ‘Knights and Bandits’ and they’re out the southern doors before Bernadetta can even process what has happened.

Felix’s half eaten bowl of porridge sits on the table completely forgotten.

----

At lunch, Claude decides to test a hypothesis.

He asks Mercedes and Hilda to sit with the kids at lunch and pay special attention to Felix.

To everyone else, he gives them strict orders to leave their table alone.

Satisfied with how his experiment is set up, Claude finally seats himself back in his observatory spot with his own lunch sitting in front of him.

He’s not expecting amazing results. In fact, he’s not expecting his first hypothesis to be a success at all, but he wants to try it none the less because there is always the possibility that mini Felix fundamentally operates much differently than the Felix that he is used to.

What he doesn’t expect is for Felix to immediately shut down the minute Hilda tries to engage him in some conversation about the games him and Sylvain play in the courtyard.

Today’s lunch special is Daphnel Stew and Claude has it on good authority that it is a favourite of Felix’s (technically Dimitri is a reliable source, right? They were childhood friends after all).

Sylvain tries his best to jump into the conversation and pull some of the attention to himself, but Hilda is every bit as smooth of a talker as Claude is; deftly maneuvering the conversation back to Felix no matter what Sylvain does.

This time, it is Felix that reaches for Sylvain’s hand under the table.

Except instead of just holding Sylvain’s hand, Felix starts to pull at it every time Mercedes or Hilda asks him a question, as if pleading for his friend to save him.

At least Claude could now say for sure that Felix is not, and never was, a fan of being the center of attention.

When the first afternoon bell tolls signaling the end of lunch, Felix’s stew remains uneaten and untouched. On the way out of the hall, Claude looks the other way and pretends not to notice when Sylvain steals an apple from the pantry.

His experiment doesn’t exactly succeed, but he cannot write it off as a failure either. The information gathered from his two observation sessions is plentiful and a solution is forming within his mind even as he makes his way up to the war room to meet Byleth for their afternoon strategy session.

By the time he pushes open the door to his usual haunt, Claude is absolutely certain of two truths.

One, that Sylvain knows Felix better than anyone could ever hope to compare, and two, Felix Fraldarius is incredibly lucky to have an attentive best friend like Sylvain because stars above, does he suck with using his words.

----

When the hour before dinner time rolls around, Claude makes sure to talk to everyone he passes by and give them the order that no one is to approach Felix and Sylvain’s tables at mealtimes anymore. He tells them to pass the word around and it doesn’t take long before the entire monastery is in the know of their Leader’s command.

“Care for company?” Byleth smiles and sets her tray down beside his own without waiting for a reply.

Claude does a quick survey of the area to make sure no one is looking before leaning in to land a quick peck on Byleth’s cheek. Joy flutters in his stomach at her rising blush and he merely laughs and winks at her stuttered protests.

“Check it out,” Claude quickly changes the subject and nods his head over to where Bernadetta sits exhausted with a now cheerful Felix and Sylvain. The latter nodding enthusiastically to their conversation with the occasional laugh and both of their plates near devoid of food.

A tiny rush of pride swells when he sees the relived expression on Byleth’s face.

“Told ya I’d take care of it.”

Underneath the table, he flips his palm facing upward so that he can intertwine his fingers with her searching ones.

“Yes, you did.” The unspoken thanks lingers in the air between them, louder than the constant buzz of activity in the room.

For the first time in a while, the former professor looks more at ease. And Claude, being the shit stirrer that he is, cannot help but toss a little fuel into the fire.

“So… who do you think will wear white at the wedding? Between the two of them, I think Felix is the better choice.”

“What?!”

----

4. Felix has an unwavering faith and belief in Sylvain that he’s not afraid to stubbornly stand by to the bitter end.

“Annie, are you sure this is a good idea?”

If Mercedes is concerned, then Lysithea is absolutely certain that no, this is most definitely not a good idea.

They are at the part of the training grounds where the various magic users can come to practice and hone their spells. The ground is singed with charred marks from stray thunder and fire spells, the black streaks contrasting starkly with the pale stone underneath. To the side, there is also a sand pit where mages can practice some more destructive flame based spells.

“I’m just a little curious, is all!” Annette whispers back. “I know Sylvain is really good with magic even though he never uses it. He was the one who helped me understand that magic formula that I was stuck on for a week, after all. I was thinking maybe he might show an aptitude for Reason as a child.”

“That’s fine and all; but I’m not really sure how safe it is to teach a child how to conjure a fire spell. That just seems like a recipe for disaster.”

The orange hair mage cannot help but look slightly put out by Lysithea’s comment.

Yes, maybe it wasn’t the safest idea ever… but Annette just really wants to find out the extent of Sylvain’s inherent abilities. Even after she makes him promise to take his training more seriously, she still feels like he is holding back on her when they are paired together.

“What kinda magic are you gonna show us?” Felix is eager and bouncing on his toes. The House Fraldarius specializes in swordplay, not magic, so this is a treat for him and he can barely contain his excitement.

“Oh well, I was thinking we could start off with a basic fire spell!”

“Oooh, fire!”

Annette really hopes that Felix doesn’t have a penchant for pyrotechnics.

As much of a bad idea as this is, Lysithea can’t exactly bring herself to leave them in case something goes terribly wrong. She is the strongest, most advanced Gremory the Resistance Army has; with her around, she’s confident that the worst that could happen would be some singed eyebrows and possibly an impromptu need for a haircut. But even that is an outcome that she is hoping to avoid.

Once the target is set up, Sylvain and Felix eagerly make their way over to the sidelines to watch Annette demonstrate a basic fire spell.

It’s nothing special really. Even the older Felix and Sylvain could probably cast it without much problem, but to their younger versions, the small ball of fire is so grand and spectacular that it warrants oo’s and ah’s and enthusiastic applause.

“Wow! That is so cool! Isn’t that so cool, Sylvain?”

Felix is pulling on Sylvain’s sleeve and the older boy nods emphatically with admiration shining in his eyes.

“Do you think you could do it too?”

Lysithea is startled to hear the question Felix asks Sylvain. Of course, Annette was already planning to ask the Gautier boy to attempt the spell, but that was out of curiosity.

From the shining look on Felix’s face, Lysithea knows that he is asking because in his mind, there is nothing that his smart, talented best friend in the whole wide world cannot do.

“Magic is difficult to learn and takes time. It can take years for some to learn just the basics.” She cuts in before Sylvain can answer.

She doesn’t want Felix to unwittingly trap him with an unrealistic expectation that he cannot meet and she figures it is better to disappoint him now rather than allow the red head to try and then feel guilty when he disappoints his friend.

“Sylvain is smart. I bet Sylvain could do it!”

Felix is pouting in that way that they are all quickly learning means ‘I’m right and you can’t convince me otherwise’.

“I’m sure Sylvain is very smart!” Mercedes agrees and gives the boys her best placating smile. “But I’m not so sure that a person could learn how to cast a Fire spell in one day! Why, it took Annie and I at least a week of practicing before we could do it!”

“Yep, I remember I almost burned my eyebrows off the first time I tried! But I can teach you the basics maybe and then we can bring you here again next time to practice?”

The urge to verbally reprimand the warlock for her relentless pursuit to satisfy her own curiosity rises and Lysithea has to physically clutch her biceps to stop herself from bursting.

Fine. If they were so eager to set themselves down this path, then so be it.

“Yeah!” Felix is literally vibrating with excitement and Sylvain looks nervous but determined to not let his admirer down.

Heaving a sigh, Lysithea moves to settle next to Mercedes who sends her an apologetic smile.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

----

Unsurprisingly, Felix does not do so well with learning the basics.

The diagrams and symbols are a little too much on the side of complex and it becomes apparent rather quickly that there is a reason the Fraldarius men carve through the battlefield with swords instead of magic.

“Aw, it’s okay Fe! You’re still the best with a sword anyways. You don’t need magic!” Sylvain ruffles his hair and smiles. “You’ll always beat me at swordplay.”

The small admission is enough to cheer Felix up and after a bit more nudging from the older boy, he runs off to play around with the wooden practice swords they have on the other side of the training room while Annette and Sylvain continue to work on creating basic magic circles.

It’s only after the third hour and Mercedes has long left to attend to various chores that Lysithea turns to watch Felix go through rather crude sword forms instead.

“You need to spread your feet farther apart.” Using her own foot, she nudges Felix’s left heel to the side to widen his stance. “Try striking again now.”

The wooden sword wobbles a bit in its trajectory, but the swing is undoubtedly much better than before. The sheer delight that lights up in Felix’s eyes almost makes Lysithea laugh out loud because she recognizes it as the same gleam she sees in the older Felix’s eyes when he executes a particularly hard maneuver.

“Why aren’t you watching Sylvain and Annie?”

For a five year old, Felix is incredibly perceptive.

Rather than lie to him, Lysithea opts for honesty because she is sure that’s what older Felix would have wanted.

“I don’t think he’ll succeed.”

Felix frowns. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know how hard it is to learn magic. I’m sure Sylvain is very intelligent, but it takes a lot of hard work to use Reason.”

“Sylvain can do it. I know he can.”

She sighs and turns a baleful eye down at Felix. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you.”

“Glenn said that to me too when he didn’t believe me that I could stay up all night waiting for Sylvain.”

“And did you prove him wrong?”

Felix turns to full face her, expression full of gravity.

“Yup.” The dead seriousness of his tone looses Lysithea’s first laugh of the day and she cannot help but be drawn towards this little boy, the same way she was drawn to his older self.

Deigning not to continue a lost conversation, the cake loving Gremory opts to turn back and watch the progress that the other two have made, leaving Felix muttering to himself about his steadfast belief in his best friend.

----

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

The sun is setting and it is nearly time for dinner by the time Sylvain and Annette break away from Magic and Sorcery: Vol 1. to actually put some practice to the theory they have spent all day studying.

“Now, don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get it.” Annette says while moving out of the way. “You did just learn the basics and it takes a lot of practice!”

Lysithea has not moved from her perch from a nearby bench. She’s still extremely skeptical that Sylvain will manage to do very much at all. Yes, it is true that he had a budding talent for Reason during their academy days, but Sylvain hardly ever applied himself to any of his studies. The professor had to literally force him to attend one on one magic lessons with her before his aptitude for spells finally emerged.

Although, she muses, this younger Sylvain seems to be more enthusiastic to participate in things he was interested in. Even now, the scrunched up look of concentration on his face is indication enough that the Sylvain Lysithea is used to is a much different creature than the one before her currently.

House Ordelia does not really have any established trade routes with the Gautier territory, but the Ordelia heir has heard enough to know that the current Margrave is an arrogant, crest-obsessed prick.

It doesn’t take a prodigy to connect the dots and surmise that Sylvain’s carefree attitude and refusal to apply himself to anything is a product of his father’s suffocating expectations.

Fuck Margrave Gautier.

Maybe Lysithea does want Sylvain to prove her wrong and succeed; then at least he can go back home and light his father’s breeches on fire.

She’s only slightly disappointed when her expectations prove correct and the best Sylvain can conjure is one tiny flicker from a lone flame in his hand. However, it is still much more than she thought Sylvain would be able to do and for that, she is genuinely impressed.

Annette is also very much awestruck with Sylvain’s quick learning and happily informs the boy of this all the way to the dining hall. Sylvain is uncharacteristically quiet as he listens to the older mage praise him, but he is not yet skilled enough in the art of hiding behind a mask and the slight downward tilt of his lips does not go unnoticed.

“You really did an amazing job learning so much in such a short time, Sylvain! Don’t be too disappointed that you couldn’t do it.”

Sylvain gives a weak smile in return, but it is Felix who ultimately responds; one hand clasped tightly in the Gautier’s and the other one balled into a fist.

“Sylvain can do it. Just watch.”

----

Dinner passes without much fanfare and the boys are eventually tucked in for the night. Claude and Byleth have long decided that a full-time night chaperone is no longer necessary; although occasionally, one of their friends will peek into the room in the dead of night before they retire, but very rarely do they find anything wrong that requires their attention. A week has already passed with no incident, so there should be no need to exhaust their soldiers by keeping them up at night.

Except this time, when Petra nudges the door to their room open – being extremely careful not to open it too fast lest the hinges squeak – she does not see any sign of Felix or Sylvain anywhere.

It is the dead of night, but Garreg Mach Monastery blazes alive with a flurry of panic at the toll of the emergency bell.

“You’re absolutely sure no one saw them leave their room?”

Seteth slams his palms on the table and interrogates the night shift guards; his brows furrowed and mind racing a mile a minute.

If the enemy has somehow managed to sneak into Garreg Mach and kidnap the children, then they are well and truly fucked. They may have to abandon their home base or at the very least do an extensive investigation of their current ranks and re-evaluate their current passive defense.

“There were no signs that a struggle was happening.” Petra voices from her place around the war table. “I am having confidence that they left with willingness.”

“Goddess, please keep them safe.” The situation leaves a bad taste in Flayn’s mouth; it is much too reminiscent of when she was kidnapped and although it has been years since the incident, the memories still plague her.

Byleth’s voice leaves no room for discussion, “everyone split up and search the grounds. Most of our facilities are locked up at night so that should help limit the number of places we need to search.”

Everyone dashes out of the room with their orders and branch off at the second floor corridor. Those once belonging to the Black Eagle house comb through the main hall while the former Blue Lion students check all surrounding independent buildings; the Golden Deer fanning out to cover the outdoor grounds of the monastery.

An hour passes. Then another. And another.

Soon it is 3 in the morning and the panic is truly beginning to set in, giving rise to an unsettling fear clawing its way up from the depths of the night.

“Dimitri, Dedue! Have you found anything?” Ingrid pants and skids to a halt just below the stairs to the Sauna; the rest of her Blue Lion classmates run up to join her and debrief their findings.

“Nothing,” Dedue’s tone is flat as usual but his strangled expression is enough to betray his underlying worry. “We have searched all the open buildings and the grounds. There is no sign of them at all.”

Annette is near tears now and Mercedes places a hand on her shoulder, offering her silent support even while she herself is fiddling with her shawl, an attempt to keep her mind occupied before it spirals.

“It’s not like them to run away,” Ashe frowns. “Did anything happen today? Were they acting weird at all?”

“Not really. All we did was practice magic at the training grounds.”

Mercedes frowns. “Perhaps they left something there and went back to retrieve it?”

“The training grounds should be locked at 11PM. No one should be able to get in or out until sunrise.” Dimitri shakes his head.

“Well then we’re clearly running out of ideas here!” Ingrid throws up her hands in frustration and rakes them through her hair which is on the verge of looking like a bird’s nest. “We’ve checked the dining hall and the greenhouse but –“

“Your Majesty.” Dedue’s raised voice cuts Ingrid short and they look over to see the doors to the training grounds swing open slowly with a slight push of the man’s hands. “The doors were not locked as we thought.”

It takes only a heartbeat for them to scramble through the large wooden doors and down the hallway, their rushed footsteps echoing like thunder in the stone corridor.

“Oh Goddess. I smell smoke. Does anyone else smell smoke?” If her heartbeat accelerates any more, Annette is pretty sure she will have a heart attack.

“It’s coming from over there!” Their King leads the charge towards the magical training arena where the smell of smoke is the thickest.

When they burst into the open area, they are prepared for the worst. Weapons are drawn and hands raised with spells on the tips of tongues, but the sight they are greeted with is enough to shock them into stasis.

There in the middle of the sandpit, hunched over and panting hard, albeit with a brilliant grin on his face, is Sylvain. The practice dummy a few feet in front of him is alit with flames, illuminating the room with an orange glow, casting shadows along the stone walls that flicker like a live audience.

And off to the side bundled up in a woolen teal blanket that they all recognize, is a tired, but extremely proud looking Felix Fraldarius staring directly at the newcomers.

“I told you he could do it!”

----

5. Sylvain has given Felix all the pieces of his fragile, fractured heart, even if he isn’t aware he possesses it.

Although once his greatest secret, Ignatz no longer hides his passion for art from his fellow Resistance Army members.

It’s not uncommon these days for people to find him at random places in the monastery with his art supplies sketching away at preserving a moment in time on blank paper forevermore.

Today, he is sitting on a bench next to a large oak tree, just a stone’s throw away from the main grounds. Beneath the shade and tucked between two large roots lie Sylvain and Felix, both completely tuckered out from their earlier attempts at climbing the towering tree. Sylvain is starfished on the ground with his arms stretched wide; to his left, Felix lays curled away from him with his head pillowed on the outstretched limb.

Sylvain and Felix have been the talk of the monastery for the past week and it is pretty obvious why. It’s not every day that you see two high ranking generals revert back to their child forms. Especially the most notorious bother-me-and-I’ll-bite-your-head-off and if-it-breathes-I’ll-flirt-with-it Generals to boot.

Of course, stories of their shenanigans and troublemaking usually fill the daily meal conversations, but there is one topic that floats above all else; the one that makes the maids in the kitchen giggle and even the burliest of knights crack a smile:

It is clear that even from a young age, Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius are absolutely smitten with each other.

The two are inseparable and Ignatz is pretty sure that even a blind man would be able to see the absolute trust and unspoken devotion they have towards each other.

Ignatz has spent the day watching Felix and Sylvain, not just because it’s his turn to babysit, but also because he is fascinated with their bond. He had once thought that the Goddess was the most beautiful thing in the world, but the rawness and purity of their relationship fills him with more piety and awe than any portrait or statue of Sothis ever did.

It is like they are two parts of a well-oiled machine. Where one gives way, the other will step in to fill the gap; whenever Sylvain’s insecurities flare up, Felix is always there to chase the demons away with clumsy words and a physical display of affection, using his own body to ground his best friend and keep him close. Likewise, whenever tears well up in the youngest Fraldarius’ eyes (which is unfortunately quite often), Sylvain is there to wipe away the salty tracks and light up Felix’s heart with a smile warmer and brighter than sunshine.

Ignatz’s original plans were to draw the oak tree and the beautiful meadow of primrose flowers, but it seems that there will be a last minute change in muse.

Taking up his piece of charcoal, he begins the outline of what he thinks will be his fondest work to date.

Ignatz doesn’t know how long he spends sitting on that bench hunched over his sketchbook in silence with only the occasional birdsong floating through the silence. It’s so calm and peaceful that he doesn’t even notice that Sylvain has begun to stir until he looks up to find one of his subjects in a different position.

Leonie had warned him that Sylvain has a tendency towards nightmares. She had discovered that unfortunate fact in the first three days when each time she tip-toed into their room to check up on them, she found Sylvain wide awake with wild terror in his eyes and a sleepy Felix clinging to him comfortingly.

Strangely enough, Sylvain also does not startle awake from his nightmares. Instead, he slowly rouses himself as if from a deep sleep and if it weren’t for the glaze of lingering fear in his eyes, none would be able to tell that he had just woken up from a night terror.

That same glazed look is now flickering rapidly around him as if searching for the shadow of a monster that exists only within his mind.

“Sylvain…?”

Wild brown eyes finally settle on steady molten amber ones.

“Fe.”

“It’s okay, Sylvain. I’m here...”

Felix yawns and shuffles around until he is half wrapped around Sylvain with his left hand settling over Sylvain’s pounding heart.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you…” Small hands curl around the material of Sylvain’s shirt in a death grip. Felix’s loyalty and protectiveness so painfully evident even when the boy himself is half asleep. He manages to cling to the realm of the conscious for a little while longer, until the rapid thump thump thump of Sylvain’s heart slows to a steady lulling rhythm, pulling Felix back down under the veil of sleep.

Ignatz has silently watched this entire exchange and to be honest, he’s not really sure that Sylvain or Felix even remember that he is here with them. He cannot bring himself to make his presence known, so he continues to watch and observe.

He watches as the fear that was once in Sylvain’s eyes slowly recede again, the monsters inside his head vanquished in the company of his best friend. It only takes one more glance at the boy cuddled up to him with a hand protectively hovered over his heart to melt away the chains that bind him to the expectations of the people around him.

Here under this oak tree in a field of blooming young love, there is no crest or Miklan or nobility. There is only Felix and Sylvain.

Sylvain holds onto that truth as he wraps his free arm around the younger boy, tucking him more securely under his chin, letting the cool summer breeze lull him back to a dreamless sleep.

Ignatz pulls out a new page and starts a fresh outline. It takes him a little longer than anticipated to finish his drawing, but he figures it’s not such a bad thing since he likes this new version much better.

Later, as he trails after the now energetic boys back towards the monastery, Ignatz tucks his newest masterpiece securely under his arm, being very careful not to smudge the drawing or crease the paper.

After all, Claude did mention something about a wedding and Ignatz thinks that his drawing will make a fine gift.

----

Bonus: They’re just two idiots in love.

“Go away. Can’t you see I’m trying to enjoy my meal?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Felix! You know, the younger you was much cuter. Definitely less prickly, too.” Dorothea pokes his cheek and snatches her hand away before Felix can stab it with his steak knife.

It’s been roughly a week since Felix and Sylvain have returned to their normal sizes, the dark magic having run its course and fizzling out without so much as a final spark. To the rest of the Army, this is a joyous occasion as it means that two of their best generals are now back to normal and can command them again. But to the last class of the academy… it is bittersweet.

Of course, they want their friends to return to normal. But that also means that Felix will go back to hissing and spitting with all the fury of a spooked cat and Sylvain will go back to seducing any individual that makes eye contact with him for longer than half a second.

“Better do as he says, Thea. Felix’s looking extra grumpy today and we wouldn’t want you to lose a pretty little finger.” Sylvain winks at her as he sets down his own meal and settles in the seat across from the swordsman.

The opera singer snorts, “right back to the flirting as usual. Save your hollow words for some other girl.”

“Ouch. Give a guy a break! I just recovered from a dark magic spell after all. Doesn’t that warrant some pity?”

“The only pity is that you immediately lost all your innocent and cute appeal when you reverted back to your regular body.”

Felix scowls at them, “if you insist on continuing your flirting, I’ll just eat my meal elsewhere.” He moves to stand but Sylvain is quicker and grabs his wrist, preventing him from moving.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just stay, okay? Please? For me, Fe?”

Sylvain is looking at Felix with that expression which he knows he cannot resist and Dorothea takes this opportunity to slip away while the two engage in a silent conversation with only their eyes.

“Fine.”

Their meal continues with little fanfare and easy conversation. Around them, their old classmates are scattered in their own little groups and if they notice, none of them mentions anything about how everyone seems to avoid sitting at Felix and Sylvain’s table.

Easy conversation flows into dessert, or more specifically: Felix wordlessly giving Sylvain his peach sorbet and Sylvain beaming a rare genuine smile and promising to join him at the training grounds first thing tomorrow morning.

The sun is slowly dipping below the horizon when Sylvain and Felix gather up their dishes. On their way out of the dining hall, Ignatz stops them with a heartfelt congratulations and a bundled up package that looks suspiciously like one of his works.

“Congratulations? For what?” Artfully tousled red hair shifts as Sylvain tilts his head in confusion and reluctantly accepts the gift.

“O-oh, well Claude just said…”

Dread rises up from the pit of Felix’s stomach. “What did that schemer say this time?”

“…He said that you two were getting married.”

“What?!”

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 4 years ago

Text

Loving Stupid - Chapter One: Sanctuary [Fallout 4 Fanfiction]

HELLOOO Tumblr! Now that I’ve got this blog up and running, I wanted to do what I could to expand the exposure of my fic and get it around to new readers. While it’s already up on Fanfiction.net , it seems to me that the majority of the community prefers Ao3 or reading directly here on Tumblr. So, I figure why not post it over here as well?

Though a heads up that this first chapter was first written entirely for personal enjoyment, and then a friend I showed it to encouraged me to expand upon the story cause they wanted to see more of the ship. XD It’s uh... lil spicy. Or lemony, depending on how old you are and how far back your fic vocab goes.

Story Title: Loving Stupid

Story Summary: Paige [Sole Survivor] and Hancock venture into the Glowing Sea in pursuit of a lead on the Institute, when a catastrophic equipment failure forces them to separate.

Rating: MATURE

Content Warnings for this Chapter: Sexual content, drugs, alcohol, cursing

Content Warnings for story overall: Sexual content, drugs, alcohol, cursing, violence, blood, injury, needles, limb mutilation

Genre: .... erotic romance-adventure? IDK shit goes down and there’s some spicy scenes, but also a lot of character building and relationship stuff. I’m bad at genre assessment. Open to suggestions XD

.:_Sanctuary_:.

“So these are your digs, huh? … can't say it's my speed.”

“Not historical enough?”

“Nah, it's...”

Paige watched Hancock's face twist as he struggled to pick out what word fit his distaste, ghoulish features creating sharp valleys along fault lines in leathery skin while the shiny dark of his eyes appraised the home she'd built atop one of the empty foundations of Sanctuary Hills.

It wasn't anything special, wooden planks coaxed together into floors, walls, and roofing with nails and elbow grease. This was the only settlement where Paige had a place that was specifically hers, where she kept the little knickknacks and oddities she collected; all dutifully looked after by Codsworth-- ever dedicated to his task two centuries after it had been assigned to him. She'd given some life to the wooden bones of the shack, however; recycled fabrics became rugs and curtains with only mildly clashing patterns, and she even managed to cobble a number of worn out flannel shirts into a workable set of sheets for a double-wide bed that was, in truth, just a pair of smaller mattresses pushed together to pretend they were a queen size.

What could she say? She liked to sprawl.

Generators lit up Sanctuary at night with bare bulbs, and her little shack was no different. It brought yellow light against the dark, and reflected off a multitude of glass bottles, lined up on the shelves of a bureau she'd rescued, mostly intact, from the home of a long-dead neighbor. Whiskey, vodka, wine-- she jokingly called it her liqueur cabinet, despite the thing not having doors to lock the alcohol behind.

She'd done her best to make this a where place she could sleep soundly, when she was in the area. It was little more than a bed, a roof, and a lot of junk on shelves; insulated from the outside world with some sewn-together fabric scraps... but stepping over the threshold always made her feel like she'd entered a sort of... bubble. Not safe-- nowhere was safe-- but... quiet.

She could pretend, here.

“Comfortable.” Hancock decided, grousing out the word. “Damn near cozy-- you put this together?”

“With my own two hands.” She informed him; trust Hancock to find an issue with comfort-- then again, she couldn't blame him. Comfortable people had a habit of being complacent people, and they both knew that was where a lot of ugliness could happen... but his opinion didn't stop her from stepping inside and divesting herself of the pieced together armor that she layered over a set of somewhat over-sized army fatigues, reclaimed after clearing an old base of ferals. There was a wooden bin by the door for that stuff; she'd have to strap it all back on in the morning... but for now she was grateful to take a load off, starting with an enameled metal helmet.

“I've watched those hands beat faces to a bloody pulp. I didn't figure they could sew.”

She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes as she heard him trudge inside anyhow, metal door closing behind him, and set herself to the straps that kept her secured within the bits of metal and leather that frequently kept her alive on the road. Left arm first, a metal shoulder piece coming loose, and the whole ritual making her feel as if she were shedding skin.

She didn't tell him that she might have been a housewife a few centuries ago-- that was a different life. The idea that someone could live so cushy as to devote themselves to home-making and nothing else was a fever dream in this age, and while Hancock probably had enough chems in his pockets to attempt imagining it, she didn't feel like trying to paint the picture for him.

She didn't want to know what he'd think of her, knowing just how... comfortable she'd been.

“I'm a woman of many talents.” She snarked instead as another heavy piece of metal thumped into the bin, freeing up the shoulder beneath to roll and stretch. “Don't worry about getting used to it-- this is a one night stop. First thing in the morning, I'm seeing to the upgrades on the armor, and then back on the-- ah--”

Hands-- surprisingly strong hands despite withered skin that clung to spindly bones. She didn't know how that worked-- Hancock wasn't a big man, and the ghoulishness made her think he'd be frail... instead he'd hefted a flamer onto his back when he set out with her, and carried it from one end of the Commonwealth to the other without complaint. Finding those hands suddenly assisting with undoing the straps at her sides so that her chest piece could come loose was a surprise; simple and sure movements causing the scavenged military combat armor to come loose and slide forward. Without an anchor, it slid forward until the hard edge of the back plate caught on her neck and stopped it from simply falling to the floor. Meanwhile, Hancock's hands had slid in along her ribs, pressing firmly into the rough fabric and reminding her that they were, for the first time in a while, blissfully alone.

“I'm aware of that.”

Her lips pressed together-- a low sigh was expressed with his rough whisper in her ear. She swore he knew how much that got to her, despite her very deliberately not telling him. It was a struggle not to react, not to lean back as he reeled her in, those spidery hands easily finding their way upwards beneath the hanging breastplate and his chin perching on her shoulder. He'd pulled them together, his body against hers, and punctuated the move with a mischievous chuckle.

“Sometimes a little too talented-- doin' everything yourself, despite having a public servant waiting in the wings.” He teased her. “Let a ghoul help, eh sister?”

It wasn't entirely unexpected, nor unwelcome, but his eagerness was something that caught her off guard. She usually had something to say, something sly to come back with, but for some reason all she could focus on was the ticklish clutch of her gut as his fingers gathered up the material of her shirt in their traveling to her bust, squeezing fitfully enough to expose an inch of skin at her belly.

“Hancock--” She muttered, squirming slightly, but not in earnest. “C'mon, we've got the whole night--”

“That's right.” He agreed, but it was with an entirely different tone. One hand remained up, keeping her tight to him, while the other traveled down. The thin ribbon of skin that had been exposed was soon graced with the specific texture of his skin; rough, but not terribly so. Like callous, only it was all over; somewhat leathery and unique. His entire palm invaded through that opening, hard against her belly as fingertips sought out a path further south. “We've got the whole night-- and I didn't plan on wastin' any of it...” His fingers were ruthless once they found purchase, shoving past the tight fit provided by a belt she was wearing. “Did you?”

Her breath shuddered. No part of her wanted to tell him no-- the rush was enough to make her ignore the metal edge digging into the back of her neck, and forget how doggedly exhausted she'd been after their long trek here... particularly lugging her own weight in lead along the way.

In her hesitation, he'd gotten far enough to make a more intimate contact-- damnably persistent, like ivy finding the cracks in brickwork to wheedle its way in.

He pressed in against her, too certain to be deterred by straps and clothes. Barriers had been passed without any show of manners, knowing her well enough that if he was unwanted she would have thrown him off by now... and getting a sweet gasp as his reward.

“There we go.” His smile was evident in his tone-- no, not a smile, a grin-- a smug, shit-eating grin. She could imagine how it looked on his face, and knew he'd be wearing it for hours just to make her glare at him.

It didn't matter. Everything he'd done so far was just testing the water in his puckish, incorrigible way. Now he had her, and his wrist twisted as he worked that hand just a little further into her pants before slipping a fingertip against soft flesh. The motion was a sort of rocking of his hand, sliding the single offending finger down between sensitive lips before drawing back upwards with the tip pressed in, working up a little warmth in general and offering up a little tantalizing pressure to wake up the sweet spot for later, stroking her like that as his hips pitched against hers to turn her away from the bin next to the door and instead face her against the closed portal they'd entered through, reinforcing that he had her.

Without thinking, her right hand came out to brace against the door. Cold metal barely registered, just that it gave her something to push back against as he leaned in harder against her back, idly kneading her breast as he stroked her beneath restrictive layers of cloth and leather.

“O-oh... damnit, Hancock--”

“I was thinking fuck it, actually.” He smirked, still right by her ear for that quip before finally leaning back the necessary inches and releasing her breast to help her get her armor the rest of the way off, falling to the floor with a hard thud instead of getting placed in the bin. Pitching his shoulders back, hips pressed forward, grinding against her to advertise himself against her rump. “... just like this...” He added, losing a little breath as he suggested it, that free hand of his coming right back as if magnetically drawn, this time landing at the top of her hip and sliding upwards to expose a few more inches of skin-- his palm on her back, pushing with his surprising strength to encourage her to bend forward.

Bend over, actually.

She got his meaning, groaning softly as his stroking remained steady. She didn't resist the push, her hand shifting against the wall as her body dipped lower and her own free hand fumbled with the latch for her belt. The strip of leather resisted her, frustrating her fingers for a few agonizing moments as the sensation of his hand brought on another faint sigh, slipping against her with more ease as her body reflected her own eagerness; building with the anticipation. Then, finally, she managed to yank it just the right way for the latch to loose, the pressure of having his hand shoved in where it was such a tight fit relived, and further tugging releasing the subsequent button and zipper before they became obstacles... and before her hands became utterly uncooperative.

The loosened hem could be yanked down on his side, exposing more precious skin to the evening chill that crept in through the walls. Gnarled knuckles hooked on the hem, and fingertips got her underwear in the same dragging motion that demanded quick access. The lower she bent, the more he leaned against her, miming what would come in due time. It wasn't until he had her ass bare, pants and underwear drug down below the swell of her hips, that he finally pulled his own body back the inches necessary to attend to a few layers of fabric himself... but he didn't let off touching her as quickly. The hand that exposed her lingered, fingertips ghosting the sensitive skin just below the curve of her rump and sending a tingle across her skin, before his weathered palm pressed up and squeezed hard, his thumb sliding up to the top of her hip while his fingers rotated down. Finally, he finished up the groping with a light swat, chuckling behind her.

“Fuck you look so good like this...” He marveled, and she could hear layers of fabric moving against each other. “I just wanna wreck you.”

“Shut up and-- nnnnnnnh--”

She couldn't see him, but she felt him; hard and hot against her skin, pressed first between her thighs before he adjusted himself upwards. His finger's rubbing of her had paused, that hand simply anchored there as, from the rear, he worked himself against her, dragging the tip of himself this way and that until he found just the right angle to slick himself up with her excitement... and making her crave him in the process as she flexed her hips back towards him, trying to make it easier for him.

Somehow, some fucking how, she'd gone from exhausted to needy in the span of only a few minutes. It was the kind of eagerness that usually belonged to the young and dumb-- insanity she thought she'd left behind in her teen years, but he always found a way to draw it out of her.

She had no idea how he did that, but she never wanted it to change.

“Yeah?” His voice had dropped, the word barely differentiated from the heavy sigh it was carried out on. “C'mon, you can moan for me... no one's gonna hear you this time...”

More of him, pressing between wet lips-- and then more; there was resistance, going for it quick like this always meant it was a little rough, but it was the kind of sensation that left her gasping aloud as she went from craving that feeling of him to having him sink into her and remind her just how good it felt. Imagination, memory-- it always fell short, not quite living up to what it was in the immediate reality of the moment. Friction and heat, bound up in an intimate need-- just as addicting as any of the chems he slipped into her pockets whenever he thought she looked strung out.

Out of reflex, her jaw clenched tight, denying the urge to moan aloud and her body clenching around him instead. Both hands had applied themselves to the wall, and her breath shook as teeth ground together, resisting.

“Oh shit-- fuck-- if you squeeze me like that, I'm gonna...”

His hips bucked forward after a short draw back, the hand he'd been using to guide himself against her now finding its way to anchor at the crease that formed between her hip and her body as she bent against the wall, yanking her tight against him with the same motion before coming to a sharp stop. She could feel him inside, throbbing and thick, and the jolt made her jaw drop open for a short exclamation to escape her.

Buried, he began to rub her from the front again, abandoning the long strokes he'd used to warm her up and instead zeroing in on where she was most sensitive. Where his opening moves had all been about pressure with maximum contact, he changed tactics to only flick across her with the tip of his finger, instigating another tightening of her body as her resistance to making noise produced a shudder instead.

“D-don't--” She finally managed to murmur. “Oh God-- Hancock, you don't have to--”

This was a quickie-- an opener. She didn't expect this kind of attention; he always made up for it later, after a little Jet got him going again. This was usually the part where he took her by the hips with both hands and went to town, but instead he held her to keep them both tightly together, all while--

“F-fuck--” A whispered curse, kept lower than a murmur, followed by a greedy breath. He wasn't letting up, despite her telling him he didn't need to bother. She tried to push herself back against him, to antagonize him, but his fingers only tightened their grasp on the side of her hip as he leaned forward over her, ensuring that he was the one in control.

A defined clutch passed through her, centered at her core.

“Oh fuck-- mmmm--!”

“There you go... c'mon, let it out...” He coaxed her, rocking himself back in another short motion before jolting back into her again, letting out a guttural sound of his own as he did so. “Lemme hear you...”

It was an old habit to hold back, to grit her teeth and hold her breath-- anything to keep quiet. Her own fingers, once splayed open against the metal door, curled inwards into fists as the sensation built up, deep and desperate gasps getting drawn in through her nose as her jaw remained tightly closed, lips pressing hard against each other as she hummed and swallowed. Her head dropped down, his touch taking more and more of her focus.

Old habits were hard to break, but he was a new habit. One that liked to push at her old habits and see how long they'd stick.

Toes curled inside her boots, eyes closed without thinking. There was no thinking-- no, just her perception of him; the weight of his body against hers, the grip of his hand, and sound of his breath, all as her body underwent jolts that made her hips continue to try and rock back against his, one of her hands eventually lifting and banging back onto the door as the sensation turned briefly sharp, jaw loosing for a raw gasp between her lips and a guttural groan. “F-Fuck Hancock, you're gonna--- oh-- oh-- shit--”

“Rub you raw?” He completed the thought she was trying to articulate, drawing in a heavy breath of his own. His own hips rocked now, a minimal motion of a man that could barely help himself. “Wouldn't... wouldn't dream of it... just love the way you squeeze...”

The rocking changed things, introduced that delightful sensation that scratched the ineffable itch he'd aroused in her. Pressure and friction as he kept up his assault on her sensitivity made her knees wobble with a threat to give out, breath viciously driven out of her lungs in a single erotic moan.

“Fuck...” He murmured emphatically. “Sing for me babe... it's so pretty...” He encouraged her, pressing his face against the back of her neck as he kept a steady tempo. He was fully against her, laid over her back and abandoning his grasp on her hip to reach forward, those thin fingers of his stealing beneath the buttoned blouse of her fatigues and taking a demanding grasp on her breast; stalled only momentarily by the worn elastic band of her bra. The heel of his hand ground upwards at first, pressing in against her ribs, before he was pulling on her again, ensuring she remained anchored against him as he kept up the rocking motion he'd adopted over more conventional thrusting.

“Ah... ah shit... shit- shit-- J-John, oooooh... oh fuu...”

She lost the thread of why she'd been protesting in the first place. Her jaw fell open, and another moan came out; louder as everything began to come together. The movement, his insistent grasp, that very specific sense of fullness within her body and the craving it both satisfied and aggravated at the same time--

“Yeah?” He breathed against her ear. “You gettin' there, sweet thing? … good... I wanna feel it... And once you're over the edge, I'm gonna rail you until I burst.”

A thrill ran through her, like electricity that danced along her spine. Now that he'd articulated his intention, she wanted it, too.

“C-close...” She whimpered, nodding her head faintly. “J-just like that... l-little higher... rub a little higher... little circles around my-- oh- oh god- there- fuck yes-- there--!!”

Feverishly murmured coaching that directed his stroking where the craving was strongest sent her further than she expected to go, her head and chest dipping lower as her elbows bent and her forearms joined her hands in being braced against the door, a defined shaking running through her person as she went up to her toes and the rubber soles of her boots dug into the floor, further flexing her hips back in the desperation to have that sense of fullness as her body seemed to anchor itself on where they were intertwined. More than just laying open, her jaw stretched for her cry out with the rush.

His grip on her changed. He wasn't leaned over her anymore, but pitched back as both of his hands found their way to her hips.

God, she could feel him; the meeting of their bodies dominated her brain as she felt him throb within her shortly before he changed to much more active motions. There, again, was that surprising strength as he drew back and adjusted himself just low enough to begin taking her roughly, groaning between sharp breaths as his hips shocked against her rump with every thrust.

Her body was still squeezing, still rippling from what he'd just put her through, aware of the force in his every motion as he drove into her tightly clenched core.

“A-aah... aaanngh--!!”

A hitch, and his voice gave out for a more primal noise, his motions growing more hurried as she felt his nails digging into her hips. There'd probably scratches to attend to later-- not the first time. His breath juddered, followed by a gasp before it was held a moment. All at once, everything came to a halt, a shuddering swell moving up through his flesh that came shortly before a certain warmth spread within her; passed from him to her.

He claimed a sharp breath after, followed by a relieved exhale as his hands loosened. He didn't release her just yet, but he wasn't clutching quite so hard anymore.

“...shit that felt too good...” He muttered faintly as she tried to regain her own breath. One hand and forearm remained braced on the door, but the other had released to reach backwards for him, flexing her fingers to show she desired another kind of contact, and getting one of his hands in return for the non-verbal gesture. Once intertwined, she squeezed him, and let out a faint and almost girlish giggle.

“Too good...?” She quested, surprised he'd ever entertain the concept.

“Damn right.” He lobbed back, squeezing in return. “It's the kind of good a guy gets addicted to... Gotta find us some privacy a little more often.”

Don't have to tell me twice.

This was about the point where bodies needed to come apart; signaled by their hands drifting away from one another after that comforting squeeze... but that process was interrupted.

There was a knock at the metal door Paige was braced up against.

“General? Do you have a moment?”

… Preston, your timing is a disaster.

She recognized the voice in a heartbeat, and it was exactly the sort of person who had previously voiced his disapproval of her and Hancock's partnership... and he didn't even know about the more intimate details of said partnership. There was a shock associated to hearing his voice at this particularly compromised moment, one that made her face flush as she was excessively thankful for the solid door between them.

More thankful that he hadn't shown up a few minutes ago, when he might have heard a thing or two through that door.

Behind her, she more felt than heard Hancock's muted chuckle.

“I'm a little occupied at the moment, Garvey.” Paige answered back through the door; not entirely a lie. “Is it urgent?”

“Just a couple questions I'd like to ask, that's all.” Preston's voice answered back. “Security concerns.”

That was code for yes, it's urgent to me. Preston had been very particular about security ever since she assigned him to it. Making him wait would prompt more questions later, and possible lost trust with him and his group.

Despite very much not wanting to, it sounded like she was going to need to put her clothes back on for a little while.

“Just a minute, I'll be right out.” She informed him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Awee...” Hancock quietly cooed, easing himself away from her. “No cuddle time?”

Finally able to straighten up, she shot a look back at him that encouraged him to shut his face before she broke some part of it in lieu of his mostly missing nose... before cracking a smirk. “There's a bathroom behind that partition--” She directed him quietly, muting her voice to lower the chance it would carry. “No hot water, but it's clean.”

“Heh, ritzy.” Hancock smirked back. Looking at him, she was able to see exactly how ruffled his coat and blouse had ended up, with trousers only shifted just enough out of the way to get away with what they'd just done. He hadn't made any motion to arrange himself back into those trousers, though, appearing all too comfortable to just let it all hang out. “Is that your way to telling me to put it on ice? Cause if anyone needs cleaning up right now, it's you.”

He was right; she was a sticky mess between the thighs, and standing upright allowed for dripping between her legs. Usually she would have insisted on some clean cloth and water to manage that with, but at the current moment? She reached down and simply pulled pants and underwear back up, zipping, buttoning, and straightening both bra and blouse until it was impossible for anyone to know what they'd been up to by simply looking at her... and with only him aware of the specific nature of what was probably going to end up staining her undergarments.

“I'll make you clean it up, later.” She informed him playfully. “It's your mess.”

“Oooh... dirty.” He chuckled. “Don't threaten me with a good time.”

Her look hardened, making a motion at him that encouraged him to shoo-- the last thing she needed was to open the door and have Garvey catch a glimpse of her companion with his dick out. Hancock pouted at her, but ultimately obeyed.

With a sigh, she turned herself back towards the door, hesitated a moment, and then finally grasped the handle to push it open and head out.

Doing so was not unlike a splash of cold water to the face. Twilight was a good hour past, and the night sky was filled with stars without a single cloud to obscure them. There was a stiff wind tonight; enough to snap Garvey's trench coat against his legs and make the man pull up the swell of his scarf a little more to protect his nose and cheeks.

Going from the relative comfort of her little home-made haven, as well as the heat of her recent encounter, into the abrupt chill of the night with a sharp wind in her face could have only been more of a shock to the system if it had been raining.

As she emerged, Garvey looked back to appear in profile to her. The man was always at the ready, laser rifle held upright over his chest and his eyes brightly aware despite the dark of the night. Paige's shack was at the far end of Sanctuary; away from where she'd built housing for the other residents, as well as where she'd set up crops, power generators, and water. Looking down the slight hill her shack sat upon at Preston meant also seeing the lights of the settlement beyond him; the faint yellow glow of something that could almost be called a town as the back-drop to his silhouette and shining gaze.

“Garvey.” She greeted him by his last name; it felt more professional, what with him always insisting on calling her General since she'd helped him revive the Minuet Men and retake their old headquarters. “What can I do for you?”

“Like I said, I just had a few questions...” He answered, peering further up and towards the shack. She couldn't see his face; her abode featured no outdoor lights, and with the glow of the settlement behind him his features were cast in shadow. “... where's the ghoul?”

The ghoul. She could practically taste the disapproval on that one.

“Hancock is taking this chance to wash some of the wasteland out of his clothes.” She responded. “Is your security concern about him?”

“No, no, of course not. If you trust him, that's enough for me.” Preston assured her. “But, uh...”

“Out with it, Garvey.” She ordered sternly.

“I was manning the watch when you came back to Sanctuary, General-- I saw you brought back your power armor, and it looked like you were carrying a heavy load of supplies. I know you'd tell me if anything were coming for us here, but... I didn't see any of it go out with the traders, and that made me worry. So, I've gotta ask; do you think something nasty is coming up this way?”

She blinked. Preston thought she was stockpiling for an incoming threat. She almost wanted to laugh aloud, but couldn't manage it. Instead, she stepped down from her place above him on the hill, coming to stand at his side while still looking out at the settlement.

“No,” She answered him. “Nothing's coming here. I'm preparing for a journey into dangerous territory... I need to upgrade my armor before we head out, and we needed a safe place to rest our heads before we committed. I want every advantage we can get under us before we go.”

A pause. Whatever he expected to hear, that wasn't on the list.

“... General, you know all you'd have to do is say the world, and I'd--”

“I'm going somewhere you can't follow, Garvey.” She responded flatly. Of course he wanted to go with her, probably wanting to convince her to take him instead of Hancock. He considered himself more capable, more trustworthy; the better choice on all fronts.

She'd disagree with him outright, but Hancock also had a very specific advantage over Garvey that would leave him no grounds to argue on.

“I'm going into the Glowing Sea.”

Silence. The pause stretched out for several beats, no doubt as Preston processed what exactly it was she was saying.

“... I see. The armor will protect you from most of the radiation, and your companion is immune.” He observed. “... smart choice.” He added, begrudgingly, before asking, “But why are you going in there? Even with the armor, you're going to need to be carrying your weight in medicine to even have a hope of making it back alive...”

“It's important. That's all I can say right now.”

A month or two ago, she might have told him. Before getting involved with the Underground Railroad, before encountering a synth and the person they were trying to replace at the same time and very nearly killing the wrong one during the confrontation, before learning exactly how the institute dealt with people they didn't want to have around anymore... But now? There was doubt in her mind, about almost everyone. Was Preston really Preston? Or was he just another set of eyes and ears for them? If she mentioned a defector, hiding out in the Glowing Sea, would they somehow beat her to that defector and kill them?

She couldn't risk it. This was her line on Shaun, on her son. Right now, the only person she trusted was the one who was going with her; Hancock... and even he didn't know exactly why they were going.

Granted, he hadn't asked.

“... You're sure about this?” Preston quested quietly.

She scoffed. “... barely.” She answered back. “But it's the only way forward I have right now.”

She'd already decided on a direction. Her doubts didn't matter anymore.

“Then I suppose the only thing to do is wish you luck.” He sighed, turning to face her and taking a hand off the stock of his laser rifle to offer it to her. She, in kind, turned to him and took it, sharing a firm shake. “Whatever you're facing, if there's anyone who can survive it, it's you. You already provisioned?”

“Been buying out all the Rad Away and Rad-X I can find.” She confirmed. “Cleaned out every trader between here and Diamond City. Tomorrow morning I take all the lead I've collected and upgrade the power armor to withstand the radiation... and then we'll be suiting up and heading out.” She paused, withdrawing her hand from his. There was something else that had to be said; something she'd been hoping to save until they were on their way out, so there'd be no space to argue about it... but now was probably the kinder time to say it. “Garvey, if I don't come back--”

“You're coming back.” He interrupted.

“If I don't,” She pressed. “You'll be back in charge of the Minute Men. You can't hesitate from that. We've got enough supplies to last a day out there-- maybe two or three if we find a place to shelter that's not soaked in rads, like a cave or a pre-war bomb shelter that's somehow intact. If I don't come back to Sanctuary within that time? You need to take over properly and keep up the fight.”

He was quiet. He didn't like it.

“... I don't know if I can live up to what you've done for us, Paige.” He admitted, softly. “But... if it comes to that, I'll do my best by you.”

“... that's all we can do out here, Preston.” She affirmed in kind. “I know you're the man for the job.”

“Let's try not to find out.” He rebutted.

That time, she let out a faint laugh. “Don't worry.” She told him. “I'll be doing my best, too.”

__________

Chapter One: You are here Chapter Two: [hasn’t been posted to Tumblr yet, will add link when I’ve got it up... oor you could just go read the story so far on Fanfiction XD]

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#Fallout 4 #f!sole survivor #sole survivor #hancock x sole survivor #John Hancock #Hancock #Loving Stupid #fanfiction #fallout 4 fanfiction #female sole survivor #Paige #Paige Argot

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